#This didn't come out way I wanted it to... her hair colour... Her face
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
oooooh for your 1K celebration could i request scenario 133 with jack hughes pretty pls and thank you :)
Thank you for requesting <3
SCENARIO #133 Bffs 'practising'
📞 dialling…
“Are you kidding?” Jack asked in surprise, eyes almost burst straight out of his head, pushing off his headboard to lean closer to y/n opposite him on his bed.
“Jack, stop, it's so embarrassing.” She hushed urgently, hoping Luke couldn’t hear anything from the room next door. Heat flushed to her neck, and she buried her face in her hands. “People didn't like me like that, okay?”
He leant back again, jaw agape and mind trying to process the information. Out of all the years they’d known each other, he couldn’t comprehend how he didn't know she’d never been kissed before or how he never knew about it. What rattled him the most was that he knew guys who would have gone through the trenches for y/n back in high school, yet nothing ever came of it. His ride or die, y/n? Never been kissed?
He pushed his hair off his forehead, the locks getting longer just the way he knew she liked it, “But college? You're saying you did three years of college and nothing? I'm finding it hard to believe that someone as pretty and cool as you had nobody who wanted to kiss you, sweets.”
Her hands fell to her lap, fiddling with the ends of her pyjama bottoms, stomach flipping anxiously at all the two memories of when she almost had a kiss, but could never bring herself to go through with it. It just didn’t feel…right.
“Ah, well, my friends were more approachable, I guess. I don't even know what the fuck to do anyway, like how do you even make-out?” She chuckled, peering up to give him a quizzed look.
Jack didn’t need to think, didn’t need to hesitate, the first thought that came to mind hit him like a brick and was a risk he was willing to take, the tightness and excitement in his chest needed relief or he would end up facing the anguish of not taking the risk.
“I can teach you.” He said, quickly with his unwavering confidence across his lips, eyes flickering to her lips. “For real, I'll teach you how to kiss. Come on, it'll be fun and it's just me. You know I won't tease you.”
“You don’t have to, J. Honestly, you don’t have to pity me.”
“It’s all good, sweets. I’ve got you, c’mere.” He patted his thigh twice, inviting her in with a confident grin on his face. She wasn’t sure if he was confident or finding amusement in the whole thing.
She exhaled, crawling towards him and straddling his lap, the new position sparking a funny excitement in her stomach, heat surging over her body. His hands held her hips, firm but not bruising, enough to reassure her that, he was sure. Y/n’s breath fell shaky, she’d been face to face with him before but not in that position, where his thumbs rubbed her hipbones gently and her hands wound around his shoulders.
“Don’t be nervous, princess,” he murmured, “tilt your head to the left and follow my lead.”
She did, closing the space between them. He pressed his lips to hers tenderly, slotting perfectly. In those brief, six seconds it felt as if the world burst into colours around her, butterflies swarming around her stomach and finally understanding how addicting it was to taste another. Without much thought, she slid her hand to his nape, pulling a groan from Jack’s throat.
Y/n pulled away, lips still parted but eyes searching his for any speck of mutual desire that washed through her, hands still holding each other but she felt his fingers sneak under her t-shirt with feathery touches.
“Do…do you normally make noises like that when you kiss girls?” she asked quietly, a wild glint in her eyes, one that Jack struggled to contain himself over. He shook his head honestly, hands slithering further under her shirt but doing nothing but running his hands over her waist. “J, I think I wanna make-out with you.”
His lips quirked up in the corners and he licked his lips, “Me too. It’s gonna feel weird, but move your tongue against mine, just follow my lead, ‘kay?”
She nodded, eyes fluttering closed and leaning into him. He pressed his mouth to hers again, swiping his tongue over her bottom lip, feeling her open cautiously before sliding his tongue further. Jack was right, not that she didn’t believe him but his tongue finding hers and lapping against it was alien, yet she followed him. His hand moved up her back, the other arm still wrapped around her waist and keeping her secure to his body, lips moving in a slow rhythm, his chest fizzling at the little moans emitting from her shamelessly as they licked into each other. For someone who’d never made out with anyone before, she learned fast, ignoring the saliva drooling from the corners of mouths.
Jack hummed when she looped her other arm around his shoulder’s tighter, unknowingly rolling her hips into his crotch, their rhythm becoming hungrier, hotter and heavier until they had to pull back, gasping for air.
Jack rested his forehead against hers, the pair falling into giggles. Twirling a strand of his hair around her finger, she smiled. “How was I?”
“Good, but I think we’re gonna have to go again just so I can be sure.”
He rolled them onto their sides, Jack propped up by his elbow with y/n tucked underneath him, kissing her hard with his hand soothing over her waist and hiking her t-shirt to her ribs. She moaned into him with a slight smile to her lips, one hand tucking his hair away from his face meanwhile her arm held onto his shoulders. Love, lust, hunger and comfort during three separate kisses, yet three attempts at showing how deep down they knew they were meant for each other.
127 notes
·
View notes
Note
Price had a young girlfriend and did not tell anybody until he decided to get married...
He probably didn't tell them until the night before the wedding…He asked them to come over for a little celebration and everyone expected a middle-aged woman. But when they saw a girl in her mid-20s opening the door with Price they were shocked
Soap probably even asked if she's his stepdaughter LOL
Hey, love!! 💗💗
I wrote you a little something...
I hope you like it 💗
❤️Mr. & Mrs. Price❤️
Fluff | Sugestive | 1547 words | Back to Masterlist
They were having a pint at a pub close to base when he told them.
“I'm getting married next Saturday, you have the weekend free, so drop by so I can introduce you to the missus.”
Now, Ghost wasn't surprised he didn't know about his captain having a girlfriend, let alone a relationship serious enough to talk about marriage. What surprised Ghost was that neither Soap nor Gaz knew about it.
“Married?!” Gaz asked, loud enough to make some people turn their heads.
Price furrows his eyebrow, surprised by the reaction as if he had just told them about what he's having from breakfast.
“I didnae ken ye had a pretty bird waiting for ye at home, Captain!” Soap says, just as loud.
“Yeah, I have for a couple of years now.” Price simply answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a sip.
“A couple of years?!” The three men ask in unison like a bad comedic joke.
A chain of questions starts to unravel, curiosity for the mysterious woman pouring out; but Price waves his hand shutting them up. “No point in that, you are meeting her this weekend, easier that way”
They begrudgingly agree, keeping to themselves the mental image of the possible woman. She must be around Price's age, so between 40 and 50 years old; knowing how little the man likes to go out they probably met at work so she must be military too. Stern woman.
Price tells them that is something minor, the close family and a bunch of friends; that they can join at the reception at his house and to dress nicely.
“No ghost mask.” He chastises the man pointing at him. “I don't want work involved, alright?”
During the week until the wedding, they keep thinking about her, about how she must look like, her personality, her age, her eye colour.
“What do you think she'll look like?”
“In my mind, she's like Laswell… but being into men.”
And out of every possibility and different mental image, the last thing they expected was the pretty thing that opened the door for them on Saturday.
Pretty little thing, around 25 years old, with the kindest smile on her face even when looking at the three giants on her doorframe, flowy white dress, little hair strands framing her cute face with the rest of it gathered up in an intricate updo in the back hold together with shiny pins and a silky bow.
“Oh, you must be John's friends.” You say, voice sweet as an angel. “Please, come in, don't just stand there. I'm gonna go get him, be back in a second”
You step back, holding the door open for them, inviting them in and once inside you close the door, walking past them to reach their captain who is looking in the opposite direction, talking to somebody else.
“That must be the stepdaughter… right?” Soap asks what all of them are thinking.
They stare as you walk up to Price, placing your hand on his lower back making him turn to look at you; a wide smile appearing immediately. He leans forward, his arm moving behind your shoulder and his hand keeping your jaw in place as he kisses you.
Lips crashing against yours, closing his eyes and letting his tongue into your mouth tasting the champagne you were drinking just a moment ago. A passionate, sloppy kiss that would make a maiden blush at the impropriety of it even for the newlyweds.
“Mate, I sure fucking hope she's not.” Gaz answers after a moment.
The two of you finally pull back, telling Price about his friends arriving and he looks behind you to see them. He smiles, not as wide as when he looked at you, and gives you a quick peck before walking to the door.
“Welcome, lads. Thank you for coming.” He says simply, crossing his arms and looking proud. You appear from behind him, hand resting on his arm slightly leaning to his side.
“Do you want anything to drink? To eat?” You ask softly, love pouring out of Price's eyes as he looks down on you.
“I'll help you.” Ghost says, a curl of his lips you could identify as a smile if you wanted to. And once the captain is left with the sergeants, the attack starts.
“How does an old churl like you manages to get a pretty thing like her?”
“Where do you even meet a doll like her?”
“How many years have you exactly been dating for?”
Ghost clears his throat when he turns around the corner on his way back, with you chirping on his side about how happy you are to finally meet them. He has a more natural smile on his face now, clearly infected with your enthusiasm.
Price finally introduces you to them, exchanging everyone's name. You hug both the sergeants and shake Ghost's hand, the man glad that you made the observation of his lack of appreciation towards body contact.
After a little chat, you excuse yourself; promising to get back in a while wanting to talk to your own friends still waiting around the room. It leaves Price on his own and that's when he tells the nosy men how he met you.
You were his neighbour, sharing half the walls of the old flat he house to live in before moving in together. How he introduced himself to you one day when he saw you leaving your house, how he told you he was military so you wouldn't freak out if you saw him in the middle of the night or suddenly disappeared for months, how after a specially long deployment he got back and you dropped by hours later with a bunch of tupperwares with homemade food “I assumed you would be tired, it's nothing special but I'll save you the hustle of cooking”, about how he had wanted to marry you ever since, how he gave you the tupperwares back one by one so he had more reasons to talk to you, how he finally asked you out with the last one and how after that it all was easy between you two.
The four of them swiftly move to sit down on the kitchen table, Price still telling them everything about you and the relationship. Ghost is just as invested as the other two, trying to play it off as polite interest. Slowly and smoothly people leave the house as the day goes by, the sun having set a couple of hours ago; and you walk into the kitchen, sitting on Price's lap with a sigh.
“I know it isn't proper of a good host, but these shoes are killing me.” You announce looking at the three men as you bend down and take them off, a sigh of comfort leaving your mouth as you lean back on Price. “I'm also sure you have endurance worse than some stinky feet.” You joke with a tiny chuckle making them smile.
“Everyone gone, darling?” Price asks, his hands resting on your lap as you nod smiling. He looks up to the boys as he says. “Better to tidy up then”
“Jonathan Price, don't be rude!” You exclaim looking at him. “They are your friends and there are more than enough rooms for them if they want to spend the night. They have been drinking too!”
“Mrs. Price.” John says with a teasing tone, standing up and helping you stand. “Talk to me for a second, love.”
Price bends down to pick your shoes up, holding your hand to walk you to the living room. They hear the two of you whispering back and forth, then silence and lastly the unmistakable sound of kisses. They peak behind the door, managing to see you sitting in the backrest of the sofa with Price standing between your legs, grinding his hips against yours. You moan softly against his lips, before pulling back and whispering something they can't make out; Price pulls back as well and they sit back on their chairs.
Price walks in just a second later. “Lads… thank you for coming, I'll see you when I'm back from the honeymoon, now… OUT!” He barks the last word making Soap chuckle as they all finish their drink in a gulp and start to walk out of the house, congratulating Price on the marriage and walking out one by one; meanwhile, you remain completely out of sight for them.
“They gone?” You ask for the top of the stairs, looking at Price with a smile.
“Yep.” Price says locking the door.
“You didn't have to kick them out like that, though.” You say cocking your head with a smile.
“Oh, yes, I did.” He says, turning around to start to walk up the stairs.
“Why? Afraid they might join?” You say winking at him, making him laugh before he throws you over his shoulder making you shriek.
“Wouldn't you like that, you little minx!” He jokes, landing a smack on your asscheek.
You gasp dramatically holding onto his clothes. “It's Mrs. Price to you, young man.”
He chuckles, making your body shake, before he throws you down on the bed; him instantly crawling on top of you.
“Who's your husband, darling?”
“You, Mr. Price.”
A bit more of this
#Lovi writes 🩷#young price my beloved#call of duty#cod#captain john price x reader#captain price smut#captain price x reader#captain john price#captain price#john price#price x reader#cod x reader#price#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#call of duty x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
for lovers who hesitate - choi seungcheol
warnings: cheating ex, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), shotgun marriage (not reader), some curse words, mentions of blood (seungcheol in a fight), some angst (mostly on seungcheol's part, some of reader's towards the end) + this is a long fic so I'm sure I missed out stuff, my apologies. please let me know what I missed out so I can add them in!
pairings: choi seungcheol x reader
genre: fake dating, resurface of old feelings (reader) & a down bad choi seungcheol
wc: 13k (not sure what happened i was aiming 3500-5000 but oh well.)
a/n: 13k words...my longest fic on here yet..... this took quite awhile, even proofreading was a challenge, so I hope you guys enjoyed this one! but fr, I early respect and admire authors who always belt out 30k word fics, it's really not easy i don't even wanna think about it. it's one thing to get a long fic done and another to proofreading it all oof. ... and no writer really only proofreads it once
check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list
“you've got mail~” seokmin sings down the hallway of your shared apartment, “it looks like a wedding invite…” his voice trails off, “are any of our friends getting married? why didn't I receive one?”
seokmin's question was reasonable, you did both have the same friend group, you grew up together, having tons and tons of mutual friends, you went almost everywhere together. he's like the brother you never had. but now he's got your interest piqued as well. who could it be?
on your hand sits a wedding invitation, beautifully adorned with gold accents, pink flowers litter the edges of the invite, a bright pop of colour in contrast to the plain white.
seokmin snatches the invite out of your hand, opening the invite as he reads, “you are cordially invited to celebrate the joy of han- what the fuck? is this a joke?” seokmin shuts the invite close and crumples it, “what the hell does that guy want?”
“han minjun?” you asked as curiosity plagues your mind. seokmin’s reaction only amplifies your own confusion, and you reach out to grab the crumpled invitation from his hands, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. his name stares back at you, a name you had once thought you’d never have to see or hear again. but here it is, boldly printed, like a ghost from the past come to haunt you.
“han minjun…” you murmur, your voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of disbelief and absurdity. the memories come rushing back like a tidal wave, each one hitting you harder than the last. you remember the good days first, the laughter, the late-night talks, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. but those sweet memories are soon overshadowed by the darker ones, the ones you had worked so hard to forget.
you remember the way he’d become distant, how the warmth in his eyes had faded, and the excuses he’d given whenever you asked what was wrong. you remember the pit in your stomach when he’d cancel plans at the last minute, claiming he was swamped with work, even though you could hear the laughter of friends in the background whenever he called.
then there was that one night, the night everything shattered. you had gone to his apartment, unannounced, carrying takeout and hoping to surprise him. the sight that greeted you instead was something you’d never forget. minjun had been in his living room, his hand tugging on another girl’s hair, the other on her waist as they makeout heavily. their light giggles echoing through the walls you thought you knew so well. you’d dropped the food in shock, the containers spilling onto the floor, and the way minjun’s face had paled when he saw you… it was a moment forever etched into your heart.
“its not what it looks like,” he’d said, scrambling for an explanation, but all you felt was betrayal, the heartache, the realization that the person you’d trusted had broken you in a way you never thought possible.
you come back to the present as seokmin's voice pulls you back, “oh i dropped a post it, ‘hope to see you there - kim hanna’ who the hell is kim hanna?” seokmin reaches for the invite again, his eyes scanning the words imprinted on the paper, “kim hanna…isnt she the girl he cheated on you with? that little bi- how dare she send this invi- SHE'S MARRYING HIM?” seokmin's mouth ran faster than body allowed, never finishing his sentence, but you heard and understood every word.
you snatch the invite back. the wedding is in 2 weeks.
are you hurt? no. heartbroken? no. sad? no. upset? just a little bit. angry? oh yes, yes you were. all the anger still simmering beneath the surface as you grip the wedding invite tightly. seokmin watches you with concern, his earlier frustration shifting into worry as he notices the way anger starts to consume you.
“you okay?” he asks gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.
you softened, “yeah i just… i can’t believe he’s getting married after everything he did.”
seokmin’s grip tightens, his protective brother instincts kicking in. “you don’t have to go,” he says firmly. “and if you decide to, you won’t go alone. i’ll be right there with you, you know the boys will be too. whatever you need.”
his words bring a small sense of comfort, but the invitation still feels like a dagger, reopening wounds you thought had finally healed. “oh I'm definitely going,”
“why?”
“just because. & I need a date-”
“I can be your date.”
“no you can't.”
“why not?”
“because i need my date to be my fake boyfriend. i cant show up all single to an ex's wedding & everyone knows we grow up together. we're practically siblings we would never ever date each other! that's disgusting."
seokmin's fake dramatic gasp only leaves your laughing, the anger that once resided is now long forgotten. “how can you say that?” he continues, “don't you watch movies? don't you read books? or even better, fanfiction? that's like a really popular trope and it's popular for a reason! why? because it's real, it happens. what if I'm in love with you and you just don't know it? then what? you could have seriously hurt my feelings!”
“yeah could have, that means I didn't. and don't think I forgot about the time we all played truth or dare and chan dared you to kiss me and you literally threw up from how repulsed you were by me. how could you possibly be in love with me? unless...you puked because you were nervous.." you said as you wiggled your eyebrows disturbingly. “also what hell fanfiction do you read? why didnt i know about that?”
“EW!!!" he screams as he steps away from you, "AS IF YOU COULD EVER MAKE ME NERVOUS!"
“& the fanfiction? what do you read? come on, spill!”
“that's none of your business.”
“seok-”
“beyonce x reader.” it was almost as if he was dying to tell you.
the laugh you burst out only brings relief to seokmin, now he knows you're really okay. you've moved on, just angry at the audacity of them. “please beyonce would never pick you.” you joked as you got up from the sofa. “come on, be serious, this is serious stuff. I need a fake boyfriend.”
“ask seungcheol.” seokmin answers easily without missing a beat, as if the answer was obvious.
“why seungcheol?” you heart raced at the mere idea of seungcheol being your date for the night, let alone boyfriend.
“because…he never says no to you. like ever,” he gives a brief, small smile before he turns to walk away. “oh and also, don't you think he'd fit the role perfectly?”
[—]
but that's what happens when seokmin plants the idea in your head, because you now find yourself in seungcheol's apartment.
you sit in seungcheol’s living room, heart pounding as you try to muster the courage to speak. he’s standing in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest, looking at you with his usual gentle, patient expression. but somehow, today, that patience makes your nerves worse. you’re not sure why you’re suddenly so embarrassed; maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to search your face for any hint of what’s coming.
“so… what did you want to ask me?” he prompts, his voice warm and inviting, though there’s a hint of curiosity lurking beneath it.
you swallow, your palms damp. “you can totally say no if you want to, there’s no pressure at all but um-”
seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow at your hesitation, “you’re making me nervous,” he jokes, though there’s a genuine note of concern in his eyes. “what’s going on?”
you inhale deeply, avoiding his gaze as you force the words out. “so, i got this wedding invite. from…my ex.” you don’t have to elaborate for seungcheol to know which ex you mean. his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, a flash of something dark passing over his expression before he smooths it out.
“han minjun,” he says, and the way he says the name makes it sound like a curse. his hands uncross, one clenching the back of a chair as he leans into it. “are you… are you okay?”
“yeah,” you say quickly, “i’m okay, really. just…it's in two weeks, and he’s marrying the girl he—” you stop yourself before the floodgate of bad memories start flowing. you look up at seungcheol, feeling your face grow warm. “anyway, that’s not the point. the point is…i need a date.”
seungcheol’s eyes soften, his tension melting away just a bit. “oh,” he says, and a smile tugs at his lips in realization, “you want me to be your date?”
“yes. i mean-” you fidget with the hem of your shirt. “only if you’re okay with it. you don’t have to-”
“of course,” he interrupts, his answer immediate, his voice firm. “if it’s for that, there’s no way i’d say no.” his protective instincts flare up at the mere thought of you facing your ex alone, and he wants to be there for you, to shield you from any pain that might resurface.
you feel relief wash over you, but then the real request lodges itself in your throat. you take a deep breath. “but… not just as a date,” you say quietly. “i need… i need a fake boyfriend. i can’t just show up to his wedding…single.”
seungcheol blinks, and for a moment, he thinks you’re joking. you watch as his expression shifts, surprise giving way to something more complicated. his smile falters, and his eyes search yours for any hint of hesitation, or a joke even. any indication that you might realize what this could mean for him.
a fake boyfriend. the words echo in his mind, and his heart aches, even as he tries to keep his face neutral. he’s spent the past 3 years hiding his feelings, protecting your friendship, waiting for a moment that never seemed to come. and now, here you are, asking him to pretend.
“a fake boyfriend,” he repeats, and his voice is steady, but there’s a hint of something broken underneath. he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to hold your hand, to smile at you, to pretend to be the one who gets to loves you openly…only to have it all stripped away when the charade is over. he knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but how can he say no to you? how could he ever refuse you when you look at him like that?
“cheol?” you ask hesitantly, noticing his pause. “is that… is that too much to ask? i’m sorry, it’s just-”
he shakes his head quickly, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “no, it’s not too much,” he says softly. “if that’s what you need, then… i’ll do it.”
“really?” your eyes light up with hope, and he wishes he could bottle up the way you look at him, keep it forever.
“really,” he confirms, even though his heart is already starting to fracture. he pushes down the longing, the desperate yearning to be more than just a fake. because he knows this is all he’ll get—a bittersweet taste of something he can’t truly have. but for now, he’ll take what he can get. even if it means breaking his own heart for the chance to be close to you.
[—]
“rules. we need rules. oh and boundaries. just to be safe, you know? not make it weird.” you informed as you pick up a piece of blank paper & pen from your desk before jumping onto bed.
seungcheol lies on his stomach on your bed as he waits for you, “what kind of rules and boundaries do you have in mind?” he asks.
“well for one, no falling in love. like, we both have to promise that this stays strictly pretend. we can’t let it mess with our friendship.”
for a moment, silence fills the room. when you glance at seungcheol, his expression is unreadable. “no falling in love,” he repeats quietly, his voice almost too steady. you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens, the way he clenches his fist against the sheets.
you give him a nervous smile. “exactly. we both need to agree to that.”
“right,” he says, his voice softer now. “no falling in love.” he repeats louder this time, his heart aches at the irony, because if only you knew how deeply he’s already fallen. but he forces himself to nod, to play along, to act like he isn’t breaking the very first rule you laid out just by being here. “any other rules?”
“um, yeah,” you continue, scribbling your next point onto the paper. “okay,” you say, oblivious to the turmoil in his chest. “it has to be believable. like, no half-assing it. if we’re going to do this, we have to commit. but, uh, within reason, of course.”
seungcheol chuckles at that, the sound breaking through the tension. “within reason?” he echoes, his smile genuine this time.
“yeah, nothing too….much,”
“& what exactly is too much?”
“kisses,” you answer without missing a beat.
seungcheol smiles, "so, i can’t kiss you, even if it’s just for an act?"
you pause, thinking over his question. the way he says it, so casual yet so heavy, sends a shiver down your spine. “i mean… kisses are too intimate. that crosses the line.” you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how nervous the thought of kissing him makes you.
seungcheol watches you closely, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “too intimate?” he repeats, almost teasingly, but there’s something more in his eyes, something you can’t quite place. “but aren’t we supposed to look like we’re really together? won’t people think it’s suspicious if we… don’t at least pretend that we’re comfortable with that?”
“no one’s expecting a porno of us making out,” you argue, your cheeks warming at the implication. what a poor choice of words. “hand-holding, hugs, maybe a forehead or a cheek kiss if we’re feeling bold. but anything beyond that…” you trail off, your mind spinning and butterflies threatening to invade your tummy at the thought of seungcheol’s lips anywhere near yours.
he hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. “so, kisses are off the table. got it,” he says, though there’s a hint of disappointment in his voice that you dont pick up. “any other rules?”
“that's all i can think of for now, what about you? anything you dont want me to do? anything to add?” you ask.
“no, I'll do whatever you want me to.” he says, a mixture of fondness and longing swirling in his chest.
“okay, i guess we're really doing this huh?” you ask as you feel some tension leave your body.
“yeah,” he murmurs, even as his heart screams at the unfairness of it all. if only you knew just how real it already was for him.
[—]
“did you actually really ask seungcheol to be your fake boyfriend?” seungkwan questions, taking another sip from his iced americano, his eyes narrowing at you suspiciously.
you sigh, pressing your palms to your face. “how did you even find out about that?”
“seokmin told me. now answer me! did you actually?” seungkwan presses, his tone both exasperated and concerned. he’s your best friend. he knows every secret, every late-night confession, and every tear you’ve ever shed over seungcheol.
you glance away, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “yeah... i did,” you admit softly.
seungkwan lets out a small groan, leaning back in his seat. he’s silent for a moment, and you can feel the weight of his judgment hanging between you. but there’s something else there, too. something heavier, deeper. regret, maybe.
four years ago, you were a helpless mess, pinning after seungcheol like a lovesick fool. seungkwan remembered the way you’d light up whenever seungcheol was around, the way your laughter sounded a little brighter, your smile a little wider. and he remembered the way seungcheol seemed oblivious, never showing a sign of returning your feelings.
seungkwan had wanted to help you. he’d been desperate to see you happy, to save you from the heartache that came from unrequited love. so he’d done the only thing he could think of at the time: he’d set you up with someone else.
“do you remember when i introduced you to minjun?” seungkwan asks, his voice suddenly quieter, more somber.
you blink, caught off guard by the question. “of course i do,” you reply. how could you forget? you’d been resistant at first, clinging to the faint hope that seungcheol would notice you one day. but seungkwan had been insistent. he’d told you that minjun was a good guy, someone who could make you happy, someone who could help you move on.
“you were so against it,” seungkwan recalls, his lips curving into a wistful smile. “but you finally agreed, and... well, you actually hit it off.”
a small laugh escapes your lips, though it lacks any real humor. “yeah. we did.”
for a while, dating han minjun had felt like a breath of fresh air. he was charming, thoughtful, and everything you thought you needed. for a moment, you’d even believed you’d moved on from seungcheol. but now, years later, here you were again, tangled up in your feelings for him, pretending to date him, no less.
seungkwan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “you know, i really did think minjun was a good guy back then. i just... i didn’t want to see you hurt anymore.” his voice wavers, and you can tell he feels guilty, even if it wasn’t his fault that things turned out this way.
“i know,” you murmur. “you were just trying to help.”
seungkwan sighs, setting his juice box down. “but now you’re back to seungcheol, except this time it’s... fake. and that worries me.”
your throat tightens, and you don’t know how to explain that being with seungcheol, even if it’s just for show, feels better than being with anyone else. even if it hurts a little. or maybe a lot.
“it’s complicated,” you whisper, but seungkwan isn’t satisfied. his eyes bore into yours, filled with worry and protectiveness, like he’s already bracing for the heartbreak he’s sure is coming.
[—]
“do you think we should pick something that matches or just, you know, kind of goes together?” you ask, sifting through rows of dresses, your fingers brushing over various shades of fabric.
seungcheol tries to focus on the suits in front of him, but he’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your voice lilts at the end of your question. “hm?” he clears his throat, hoping you don’t notice how he’s completely lost his train of thought. “yeah, matching is… good.”
you raise an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “that didn’t answer my question, cheol.”
he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “sorry. what was it again?”
“do you want our outfits to match?” you repeat, holding up a dress. it’s a deep, elegant navy blue, and seungcheol’s heart does a weird little flip. “like this one? it’s the same color as that suit you’re holding.”
seungcheol swallows hard, imagining the two of you side by side, perfectly coordinated, like a couple in a fairytale. he tries to shake the thought away. “yeah, that’s… perfect,” he says, his voice coming out softer than he intended.
you seem satisfied with his answer, disappearing into the dressing room to try it on. seungcheol stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, heart pounding for no reason he can justify. he’s known you for years, been by your side for countless moments, but something about this—the idea of the two of you dressed up together, the way you trusted his opinion—feels different, it makes his heart race.
“cheol?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, his breath catching in his throat as you step out of the dressing room.
he’s not prepared for the sight. you look… breathtaking, the dress fitting you in a way that leaves him momentarily stunned. his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. it’s like he’s forgotten how to speak.
you tilt your head, concern flickering in your eyes. “is it bad?”
“no!” he blurts out, voice cracking embarrassingly. he clears his throat again; surprised at his own voice, his cheeks burning. “no, you look—” he stammers, searching for the right words, his mind a complete mess. but then, he smiles his boyish smile, his dimples dipping more than they usually do & says “god, you look… beautiful. really beautiful.”
you blink, taken aback, and seungcheol swears he sees your cheeks flush a little. he’s painfully aware of how warm his own face feels, how his hands are suddenly clammy.
“thank you,” you say, your voice softer now. you look at him, eyes wide and earnest, and seungcheol can’t handle it. he has to look away, but not before he sees the small smile spreading across your face.
he fiddles with the cuff of his suit jacket, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “you… you really think this is the one?” he asks, his voice cracking again. he winces.
you nod, your smile growing. “i think it’s perfect. but… what about your suit?”
he’s still trying to recover from seeing you in that dress, but he manages to nod. “right, my suit,” he says, forcing himself to focus. “i’ll go try it on.”
you sit down on a bench, and seungcheol practically sprints to the fitting room, his heart pounding. he stares at his reflection as he pulls on the navy suit jacket, trying to breathe. he looks like a mess, his hair sticking up from how many times he’s run his hands through it, his face still red.
“come on, cheol,” he mutters to himself. “get it together.”
when he finally steps out, he catches the way your eyes light up, the way you look him over and nod approvingly. “that’s perfect,” you say, and his heart does that stupid flip again. “we’ll look great together.”
he laughs, but it’s a weak attempt to hide how fast his heart is racing. “yeah. we will.” the words come out before he can stop them; even he knows he sounds completely & irrevocably smitten but he can’t help it, not when you’re looking at him like that.
[—]
“so, did you say yes to being her date?” seokmin asked casually, thumbs tapping furiously at the controller in his hands as he and seungcheol tried to hold their ground in the game. “you know, her fake boyfriend and all that?”
seungcheol’s fingers faltered on the buttons for a split second, and he shot seokmin a glare. “yah, focus on the game, we can't lose,” he grumbled, feeling his face heat up. but, of course, seokmin had to bring it up now.
“wait, what?” wonwoo’s attention snapped away from the screen, his character on the verge of getting attacked. he gawked at seungcheol. “when did this happen? and why didn’t you tell us?”
soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his character in the game momentarily stood still. “hold on, hold on,” he said, nearly dropping his controller in shock. “hyung, you’re telling us you agreed to be her date and fake boyfriend, and we’re only hearing about this now?”
“can we not talk about this?” seungcheol muttered, trying to refocus on the game, but his heart was racing. the way his stomach twisted at the mention of you and the fake dating arrangement wasn’t something he wanted to discuss—especially not with his friends teasing him about it.
“absolutely not,” soonyoung protested, his competitive spirit momentarily forgotten. “this is big news, hyung! you have to spill.”
“yeah, seungcheol,” wonwoo added, a sly grin spreading across his face. “why didn’t you tell us? don’t act like it’s not a huge deal.”
seungcheol sighed, his shoulders tensing as he kept his eyes on the screen. “because it’s not a big deal, its only for a day anyway,” he insisted, but even he could hear the strain in his voice.
“you’re so full of it,” wonwoo said, barely holding back a laugh. “you've been in love with her for god knows how long, now you agreed to be her date and pretend to be her boyfriend. how is that not a big deal?”
unfortunately, soonyoung & wonwoo, have possession over seungcheol's not so secret, secret. but really, everyone knows, it's only a secret to you, seungkwan & seokmin although seokmin has been starting to catch on for the past few months. everyone else has miraculously managed to somehow keep their mouth shut around seokmin and seungkwan for 3 years; knowing how close you are with the two of them. I guess in a way you could say the boys are loyal to him? anyways.
seungcheol’s grip on his controller tightened. “can we just focus on winning?” he pleaded, desperate to change the subject, but his friends’ curiosity was palpable.
“fine,” soonyoung said with an exaggerated sigh. “but we’re coming back to this later.”
just as seungcheol was about to let out a breath of relief, the sound of the front door opening made his heart stutter, and he turned his head, unable to help himself. you stepped into the apartment, bags in hand, looking slightly windswept but effortlessly beautiful.
“hey, i’m home!” you greeted, smiling at everyone.
seungcheol’s mind blanked, his focus slipping away entirely as he took you in. he barely registered seokmin’s frantic warning—“hyung, watch out!”—before his character was obliterated in the game.
“yes!” soonyoung cheered, throwing his hands in the air. “we won, wonwoo!”
wonwoo leaned back with a smug smile, “thank you,” he said, looking over at you.
you blinked, confused. “me? what did i do?”
wonwoo’s eyes glinted with mischief. “it’s nothing you need to know… yet,” he replied, his voice teasing, and he shot you a knowing smile. “but thank you anyway.”
you tilted your head, clearly still confused, but you shrugged it off. “okay, if you say so,” you said, heading down the hall. “i’m gonna go take a quick shower.”
seungcheol watched you disappear, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how badly he’d let himself get distracted. he could feel the heat rising to his face, embarrassment and longing twisting in his chest.
seungcheol couldn't let it show. or at least, he thought he didn’t. he tried to play it cool, act normal around you, and pretend that his heart didn’t stutter every time you called his name. but apparently, seokmin noticed.
“you’ve got that look again,” seokmin pointed out, a teasing lilt in his voice.
seungcheol turned to find seokmin leaning against the backrest of the sofa, a grin spreading across his face. he blinked, feigning ignorance. “what look?”
“you know,” seokmin drawled, pushing himself off the backrest to lean closer to seungcheol “that look you get when she’s around.”
seungcheol felt his pulse skip, an uncomfortable warmth creeping up his neck. he avoided seokmin’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, hoping his voice sounded steady.
“sure you don’t.” seokmin plopped down beside him, elbow nudging his ribs. “c’mon, hyung. you’re not exactly subtle.”
seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to shake. “it’s not like that,” he insisted, though even he knew how unconvincing he sounded.
seokmin raised an eyebrow. “really?” he asked, voice softening. “because the way you look at her…you look at her like you'd burn down the whole world for her.”
seungcheol’s throat tightened, and he pressed his lips together, finally meeting seokmin’s gaze. there was no judgment there, only curiosity and a quiet sort of understanding.
“i didn’t mean to,” seungcheol admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “it just… happened.”
seokmin’s smile was gentle now, the teasing gone. “and what are you gonna do about it?”
seungcheol’s hands fisted the fabric of his shirt, a sense of helplessness washing over him. “nothing,” he said, bitterness seeping into the word. “she’s too important. if i mess this up… i can’t lose her.”
seokmin studied him for a moment, the silence stretching between them. “but what if you don’t lose her?” he said quietly. “what if she feels the same way?”
seungcheol’s heart twisted painfully. the thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count, but he always pushed it away, too afraid to hope. “and what if she doesn’t?” he countered, his voice breaking. “i’d rather be close to her like this than lose everything.”
seokmin sighed, leaning back on his hands. “i get it,” he murmured. “but you can’t live your whole life being afraid. sometimes, you’ve got to take the risk.”
seungcheol let out a humorless laugh. “easy for you to say,” he mumbled, but his chest felt a little lighter, the weight of his secret shared, even if just for a moment.
seokmin’s smile returned, playful once more. “hey, i’m rooting for you,” he said, clapping a hand on seungcheol’s shoulder. “but seriously, the way you look at her… it’s gonna give you away one day.”
seungcheol swallowed, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “maybe,” he whispered. “but not today.”
seokmin grinned, standing up and offering a hand to pull seungcheol to his feet. “well, just know i’ll be there to say ‘i told you so’ when it happens.”
seungcheol took his hand, rising to his feet. “yeah, yeah,” he said, but his heart felt a little less heavy & a lot more hopeful.
[—]
seungcheol stood outside your bedroom door with seokmin, heart pounding as he took a steadying breath. it wasn’t the first time he was picking you up, but today felt different. maybe it was the gravity of the wedding you were attending, or maybe it was the fact that this arrangement had slowly become more real for him than he ever dared admit.
“hyung, you okay?” seokmin asked, glancing at him curiously.
seungcheol blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “yeah,” he lied, his voice sounding far more confident than he felt. “let’s just…get this over with.” he lied, it hasn't even started yet but he doesnt want it to end.
seokmin gave him a sorry look but said nothing, and before seungcheol could dwell on it, you opened the door to your room. his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he forgot how to speak. you stood there, radiant in a simple yet elegant dress, hair styled perfectly, eyes sparkling with nervous anticipation.
he was so down bad for you, it was almost pathetic.
he couldn't help the boyish smile that adorned his face, “you look… beautiful.” he didn’t trust himself to say more, afraid that if he did, the truth would come spilling out.
a faint blush dusted your cheeks, and you smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart feel like it was doing somersaults. “thanks, cheol,” you said shyly, adjusting your dress. “you clean up pretty well yourself.
he let out a laugh, hoping it masked the way his pulse was racing. “you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to you. “our grand entrance awaits.”
you hesitated for the briefest moment, but then you slipped your hand into his, and he had to fight the urge to hold on tighter, to pull you closer and never let go. he couldn’t, of course. this was all an act. just a performance to keep up appearances, to help you save face in front of your ex and everyone else.
but god, how he wished it were real.
[—]
the car ride was quiet at first, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. seungcheol couldn’t help but glance at you every few seconds, noting the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your dress. he knew you well enough to recognize the signs of your anxiety, and his chest tightened.
“hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand in his. your eyes widened in surprise, but you dont pull away. instead, you stared at your intertwined fingers, and he wondered if you could feel his heart pounding.
“are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more careful. “if you’re not, we can turn around. we don’t have to go.”
you shook your head, a small, determined smile forming on your lips. “i’m fine,” you whispered. “it’s just… weird, you know? seeing him get married.”
seungcheol swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. he hated that minjun hurt you and how he couldn’t do anything but hold your hand and hope it was enough.
“if you want to leave at any point,” he said, squeezing your hand gently, “just say the word. i’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”
you looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt like he was being laid bare under your gaze, your eyes boring into his. “thank you, cheol,” you murmured, and your voice cracked just a little. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
his chest ached, a mix of longing and fear swirling inside him. he wanted to tell you that he’d always be there, that he’d never leave, but he didn’t. instead, he settled for rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, hoping you couldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.
the silence in the car was comfortable, but electric, charged with something unspoken. the way your shoulders relaxed under his touch, the way your breathing evened out as he held your hand—it was almost enough to make him believe that you felt the same way.
but that was dangerous territory, and seungcheol knew better than to get his hopes up.
“you know,” he said lightly, trying to steer his thoughts away from the ache in his chest, “you’re kind of incredible. not everyone could handle a situation like this with so much grace.”
you laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “i don’t know about that or this grace you speak of,” you said. “i’m still trying to convince myself not to run away.”
“if you run,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll run with you. we can both escape and go somewhere far away. just the two of us.”
the joke made you laugh, but there was a wistful note to it, and seungcheol had to look away to keep himself from saying something stupid. his heart was a mess, pounding wildly with every word, every touch, every second he spent in your presence.
“thanks, cheol,” you said again, your voice quieter now. “really. i’m so lucky to have you.”
seungcheol drove on, your hand still in his, hoping that this moment would last a little longer.
[—]
the wedding had gone off without a hitch, at least on the surface. the vows had been exchanged, laughter and applause filling the air, and now the reception was in full swing. seungcheol had been trying his best to stay close to you, to keep you from feeling the weight of the memories this day might bring. but as he returned with your drinks, he froze.
there you were, standing stiffly, looking more tense than he’d seen you all night. and, of course, minjun was in front of you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned in, saying something seungcheol couldn’t quite hear. your polite smile was brittle, your shoulders tense, and anger flared in his chest.
he forced himself to take a calming breath before approaching, setting your drinks down on a nearby table and stepping in between you & minjun, “hey,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm. “everything okay here?”
your eyes darted to him, a flicker of relief crossing your face. you tried to smile, but it wavered. “yeah,” you said, your voice a little too tight. “we were just… talking.”
minjun glanced at seungcheol, an eyebrow arching. “seungcheol?” he asked, a smug smile playing on his lips. “fancy seeing you here, i dont remember including you in the invite?” he quirked an eyebrow.
you opened your mouth, your voice coming out steadier this time. “actually, he's my plus one, since we're dating.”
“dating? as in, he's your boyfriend?” minjun asked as he sneaked a glance at seungcheol.
“yes, actually.” your words sent your stomach doing flips.
the disbelief on minjun’s face was palpable. he snorted, his gaze flicking between the two of you as if you’d just told a joke. “boyfriend? really?” he smirked, clearly unconvinced. “come on. that’s a little desperate, don’t you think?” minjun tries to reach for your hand.
before you could react, seungcheol stepped forward, his hand moving to reach for yours protectively; staking his claim. “i don’t think your wife,” he said, emphasizing the word with a hint of sarcasm, “would appreciate you making my girlfriend uncomfortable.”
minjun’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back down. “prove it,” he challenged, crossing his arms. “you really expect me to believe this… whatever this is?”
seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “we don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “& you certainly don't have the right to ask for anything, much less a proof, not after all the shit you’ve done.”
minjun’s expression soured, but before he could respond, seungcheol turned to you, his eyes softening. “come on, pretty,” he murmured, his voice gentle and eyes earnest,. “dance with me?”
you stomach did somersaults, seungcheol watches you intently, he watches the way your expression melts into a grateful smile. you leaned in close and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” you whispered, so quietly he barely heard it.
his heart stuttered in his chest, warmth flooding through him. but he forced himself to push the feeling away, to remind himself that this was all for show. you were only doing this because minjun was watching, because you needed to keep up the pretense. there was no way you actually meant that kiss, no way you felt the same fluttering in your chest that he did.
but he couldn’t help the way his heart betrayed him, the way his entire body seemed to light up at the simple touch of your lips on his skin. he swallowed, hoping you didn’t notice the way his cheeks flushed, and offered you his hand.
“let’s go,” you said, taking his hand, your smile genuine and warm.
the music had shifted to a slow song, and seungcheol led you onto the dance floor, his fingers still intertwined with yours. his heart was pounding, his mind racing, but he tried to focus on you, on the way you were looking at him now, your eyes so full of trust and something he couldn’t quite place.
“thank you,” you said again, your voice a little steadier this time.
he gave you a small smile, trying to keep his emotions in check. “i’ll always be here for you,” he said, his voice soft. “you know that, right?”
you nodded, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your waist. “i do,” you whispered, and for a moment, he thought he saw something more in your eyes. something he desperately wanted to believe in.
seungcheol tried to ignore the way your body fit so perfectly against his, the way your smile sent his heart racing. he couldn’t let himself read too much into the way you were looking at him.
but it was so, so hard.
“cheol,” you said suddenly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “can i ask you something?”
he swallowed, his throat dry. “of course.”
“why did you say yes?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “to being my date and… pretending to be my boyfriend?”
his breath caught in his throat. he hadn’t expected that question, and he wasn’t sure how to answer without giving himself away. “because you needed me to,” he said finally, and it was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “and i’d do anything for you.”
your eyes softened, and he wondered if you could see right through him, if you knew just how badly he was hurting, just how desperately he wanted this to be real.
“you’re too good to me,” you whispered.
he shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “no,” he said. “i’m just… selfish.”
you tilted your head, confused. “selfish?”
he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying on his tongue. he couldn’t tell you. he couldn’t ruin this. “never mind,” he said, forcing a laugh. “just… ignore me.”
but you didn’t. your gaze lingered on him, searching, and he had to look away before he did something stupid, like confess right then and there.
“cheol,” you said, your voice so soft it made his heart ache. “what are you hiding?”
“nothing,” he lied, pulling you a little closer, trying to focus on the music instead of the way your eyes were looking right into his soul. “i’m not hiding anything.”
but he was. he was hiding everything. the way he loved you, the way he wanted you, the way he’d give anything to be more than…this.
“okay,” you said finally, but he could hear the doubt in your voice. “if you say so.”
“you know,” he said as he let out a small sigh, his voice barely above a whisper, “you didn’t have to kiss my cheek just now. not for minjun’s sake, anyway.”
you tilted your head, looking up at him with wide eyes. “i didn’t do it for him,” you said quietly as seungcheol watches your eyes sparkle and dilate, for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.
“then… why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
your gaze searching his face. “just because.. i wanted to.”
seungcheol’s mind went blank, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the sudden, overwhelming rush of hope that filled his chest.
“should we call it a night?” you asked, your voice gentle as you turned to seungcheol, who still seemed lost in thought. you weren’t sure if it was because of the way you had kissed his cheek earlier or if he was still worried about you, but his expression had been hard to read.
seungcheol blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he had been in. “yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “let’s head home. but, uh, let me hit the bathroom real quick first?”
you nodded, offering him a small smile. “i’ll wait by the entrance.”
he nodded back, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he turned and made his way to the restroom. as he walked, he felt his heart racing, the memory of your soft kiss on his cheek replaying in his mind. you’d said it was just because you wanted to, but that couldn’t mean anything... right?
seungcheol washed his hands, letting the cool water calm him down. he took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. he doesn't really want this night to end, he's not ready for that yet.
but that’s when he heard it: voices coming from one of the stalls, low but loud enough to catch his attention.
“man, i still can’t believe you're actually married,” one voice said, a hint of mockery in his tone. “and only because you got her pregnant. how the hell did you screw up that bad?”
what the hell? seungcheol’s jaw clenched, but he forced himself to stay quiet, listening.
“don’t remind me,” minjun’s familiar voice replied. “i know, okay? it’s not like i love her or anything. but i couldn’t just bail, you know? had to do the right thing, i guess.”
the right thing? seungcheol thinks to himself, yet cheating on you is okay?
the friend laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “still, hanna’s nothing compared to your ex. that girl is so much hotter than your wife. you should’ve stayed with her.”
seungcheol’s grip on the sink tightened, his knuckles going white.
“hey, i made a mistake,” minjun grumbled, clearly defensive. “she really is hot. i was just thinking with my other head back then, okay?”
“yeah, well,” his friend drawled, “i would’ve made a move on her tonight if she hadn’t walked in with that new boyfriend of hers. what’s his name again? seungcheol or something?”
“yeah, well, i tried to,” minjun admitted, and seungcheol could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “but he showed up before i could.”
“did you see the dress she was wearing?” minjun laughed as he added, “she's got such a killer body…bet I could make her cheat on that boyfriend of hers, what do you say? 50 bucks? bet on it?”
that was it. the final straw. anger flared hot and fierce in seungcheol’s chest, and before he knew it, he was storming over to the stall. he yanked the door open, and the look of shock on both men’s faces did nothing to quell his rage.
“what the fuck did you say? you think you can talk about her like that?” seungcheol growled, his voice low and dangerous. “after everything you’ve done?”
minjun barely had time to react before seungcheol’s fist connected with his jaw. the fight was quick, brutal, and messy, with fists flying and the sound of grunts echoing off the bathroom walls. seungcheol didn’t care about the pain in his knuckles or the way his cheek throbbed from a poorly blocked punch. all he cared about was defending your honor, protecting you from these men who had no right to even think about you, let alone look in your direction.
when seungcheol finally left the bathroom, his heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins. his cheeks were slightly bloodied and his knuckles were bruised.
but before he could reach the entrance to get to you, someone grabbed his arm. he turned, only to see hanna, minjun’s wife, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. “oh my god,” she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “what happened to you?”
at first, she seemed genuinely worried, but then her eyes raked over him, and her concern twisted into something more flirtatious. she reached out, her hands brushing against his arms. “you look so hot like this with all the bruises,” she whispered, her fingers trailing down his biceps.
seungcheol stiffened, every nerve in his body screaming for him to pull away. “don't,” he held a hand up, “i have a girlfriend,” he said firmly, stepping back. he glanced around, hoping you hadn’t seen any of this.
but you had. your eyes had caught sight of the scene, the way hanna's hands lingered on seungcheol’s arms, and your stomach twisted painfully. you didn’t understand why it hurt so much to see it, why your heart felt heavy and your chest ached. this was seungcheol, your good friend. you’d moved on from this heartbreak years ago... right?
you tore your gaze away, your mind spinning. you couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy, the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him with someone else, but it made no sense. seungcheol was just your friend. nothing more.
when seungcheol finally made his way over to you, unaware that you saw him & hanna, was careful not to mention it or the fight that happened. instead, he focused on the gossip he’d overheard in the bathroom. “hey,” he said, his voice gentle, “did you know?”
you barely registered his words, your mind still replaying the image of hanna's hands on his arms. your chest felt tight, and you couldn’t explain why.
“apparently,” seungcheol continued, “this whole wedding is a shotgun marriage. she’s pregnant, and that’s why they’re doing all this.” he paused, searching your face for any reaction, but you weren’t really hearing him.
“huh?” you finally said, blinking as you came back to the present. your eyes widened when you took in his bruised knuckles and the cut on his cheek. “oh my god, seungcheol. what happened to you?”
“did you hear anything of what i just said?” he asked, a mixture of frustration and worry in his voice.
you glared at him, your concern overshadowing everything else. “no, but i’m sure it’s nowhere near as important as this,” you snapped, gesturing to his bruised face and bloodied hands.
seungcheol sighed, his shoulders slumping. “it’s nothing,” he insisted, but he knew you wouldn’t let it go. not when you looked at him with so much worry, so much care, and it made his heart ache.
“nothing?” the depth of your furrowed brows going deeper, “you're bleeding, cheol.” your tone angry. “come on,” you said, your voice softening. “i’m taking you back to my place. i need to take care of those wounds.”
he tried to protest, but you wouldn’t hear it. “please, cheol,” you whispered, and the way you said his name made his heart stutter. he wanted so badly to believe that you cared, that this wasn’t just about him being your friend.
“fine,” he relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “but only because you’re so stubborn.”
you gave him a small, relieved smile, and he felt his resolve weaken even more.
back at your apartment, you lead seungcheol to the bathroom, rummaging through the first aid kit with a determined focus. he sits on the edge of the bathtub, watching you with a mixture of awe and longing. it’s overwhelming how gentle you are with him, the way your fingers tremble slightly as you gather supplies to tend to his wounds. he wants to believe this moment means something more than simple concern for a friend, that the tenderness in your gaze holds feelings he’s been longing to hear you speak out loud.
“does it hurt?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as you dab a damp cloth against the cut on his cheek, your touch feather-light.
“no,” he says, his gaze never wavering from your face. the sting is nothing compared to the ache of wanting you. his heart pounds relentlessly, each beat echoing the longing he’s kept hidden for so long.
you move to bandage his knuckles, your fingers lingering on his for just a moment longer than necessary. “you’re so reckless,” you murmur, but your tone is soft, carrying nothing but worry.
he swallows, throat tight. “i couldn’t stand hearing them talk about you like that,” he admits, the words escaping before he can second-guess them.
your hands freeze. you look up at him, brows furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean?”
he hesitates, regret mingling with vulnerability, wanting to tell you everything but afraid of what might come next. “just... they were saying things they shouldn’t,” he settles on, the explanation falling flat compared to the storm raging inside him. “i couldn’t let it go.”
the bathroom feels smaller, the air thicker. you lean in closer, a wrinkle of worry creasing your forehead. “seungcheol…”
his hand lifts before he can stop it, and his fingers brush your cheek, gentle and unsure. “i just want to keep you safe,” he whispers, voice cracking, heart lodged in his throat. “even if it means getting a little bruised up.”
you’re so close now that your breath mingles with his, warm and intoxicating. your chest tightens, and something inside you shifts. you can’t tell if it’s the tenderness in his voice or the way his eyes seem to hold a secret you’ve always yearned to know. you feel your pulse spike, your mind racing. all the feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury come rushing back with an intensity that scares you.
you kneel in front of him, biting back the realization that you never really moved on, that you never truly stopped loving him. your feelings have been buried, but they resurface now, raw and undeniable, and you can’t pretend anymore.
“tonight was...a lot,” seungcheol says quietly, breaking the heavy silence. his eyes search yours, trying to make sense of the tension thick in the room.
you nod, hands trembling slightly as you pull back, though not far enough to break the spell. “yeah,” you manage, voice unsteady. “it was.”
seungcheol watches you with a gaze so full of longing that it makes your heart ache. he’s proud of you, he’s always been proud of you, but the way he’s looking at you now is different. “you were amazing,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making your breath catch. “the way you handled everything… i’m so proud of you.”
his words break something inside of you, and before you know it, you’re leaning in, closing the distance. it’s an impulse, a mistake, but you just couldn't help yourself. your lips brush against his, and for a heartbeat, time stands still.
seungcheol freezes in shock, but then he responds. his hands fly to your waist, pulling you closer, and he kisses you back with a fervor that leaves you breathless. the tension snaps like a taut wire, replaced by a burst of passion, and everything you’ve both kept buried pours out.
his fingers tighten around your waist, your hands finding their way into his hair, and you lose yourself in him. the way he tastes, the way he holds you, feels like a dream you don’t want to wake from. your heart races as the kiss deepens, desperate and all-consuming.
but then reality crashes over you like a tidal wave. you pull back abruptly, breaking away, your eyes wide with shock and horror. seungcheol looks dazed, lips parted, hair slightly mussed from your hands, and the sight of him so undone because of you only makes the guilt worse.
“i-” you stammer, voice cracking as you scramble to your feet. “oh my god. i’m so sorry.”
“wait-” he begins, but you’re already moving, stumbling backward, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “i shouldn’t have… we promised we wouldn’t-”
“it’s okay,” he tries to reassure you, his voice gentle yet laced with desperation. he stands, reaching for you, but you take another step back, your emotions spiraling.
“no,” you whisper, shaking your head, overwhelmed and terrified by the feelings that won’t stop crashing over you. “i ruined everything.”
you feel tears prick your eyes, your chest aching with regret and confusion. the kiss shattered the fragile balance between you, and you don’t know how to piece it back together. “you should go,” you manage, voice cracking. “its getting late,” your head starts feeling dizzy, “I'll call you tomorrow.”
before seungcheol can argue, before he can make sense of the whirlwind between you, you’re gone. you rush out of the bathroom, heart hammering, not sure where to go but needing to escape. the apartment feels suffocating, your feelings too much to handle, and you slam your bedroom door behind you.
you lean against it, sliding down until you’re curled up on the floor, tears spilling down your cheeks. what have you done? you kissed seungcheol, and now everything is a mess. the love you never let yourself acknowledge burns bright, and it terrifies you.
in the bathroom, seungcheol stands frozen, the ghost of your kiss still lingering on his lips. he’s never felt more hopeless, more in love, and more afraid that he’s lost you forever. the echo of your apology rings in his ears, and he clenches his fists, wishing he could take away the hurt and confusion you’re feeling.
he tells himself he’ll wait for you to call, but he’s terrified that this time, waiting might not be enough.
but still, seungcheol waits.
the days stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. it had been a week since the wedding, a week since that kiss had turned his world upside down, and still, there was no call from you. you had promised, but the days passed in silence. he wanted so bad to be the one reaching out, but he knows you well enough to know that it wouldnt end well, and that you needed your own time to process things. but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between you. each morning he woke up with a sliver of hope, a quiet, desperate wish that today would be the day you would reach out. but by every nightfall, the silence was all he had. the silence, and the ache that gnawed at him constantly.
he kept replaying that moment over and over in his mind, the feel of your lips on his, the way your eyes had searched his face afterward. the hope, the confusion, the raw vulnerability—it haunted him, leaving him restless and on edge. there was something about the way you pulled away from him, your apology spilling out in a rush, that made his heart ache. his own feelings were a mess, tangled up in things he hadn’t fully understood until that kiss, much less you, right?
he tried to keep busy, to drown the thoughts that plagued him. the gym became his sanctuary, his second home, a place to work out the frustration, the ache in his chest. he lifted weights until his body screamed for rest, hoping that physical exhaustion would bring some peace. but no matter how much he tried to tire himself out, the ache remained, lurking at the edges of his mind, waiting for the quiet moments when it all came rushing back.
work was just a blur, the hours blending together as he went through the motions. he found himself distracted, staring at his phone more often than usual, his thumb hovering over your contact, only to put it down before he could hit send. what would he even say? what if you weren't ready yet & him reaching out only made things worse? what if you didn’t even want to hear from him? what if his feelings were just a one-sided mess that he’d have to live with forever?
the days bled into one another, each one more unbearable than the last. he couldn’t tell anyone how much he missed you—how much he longed to hear your voice, to see you again, to figure out what all of this meant. so he kept it all inside, bottled up, carrying the weight of his emotions on his own. there were moments when he could feel it, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe. he had tried to be patient, to give you space, but with each passing day, that patience was wearing thin.
he wondered if he’d done something wrong. had he misread the situation? had he pushed too far when he kissed you back? maybe you only kissed him because of the atmosphere or adrenaline or whatever? every time he thought about it, he felt sick. maybe you didn’t feel the same way. maybe he had crossed a line, and now he was paying the price for it. the thought of you slipping further away from him was unbearable.
his phone sat on the coffee table, screen blank, mocking him with its silence. he had told himself he’d wait, that you’d reach out when you were ready, but the longer the silence stretched on, the harder it became to believe that. he wanted to hear your voice, to know that you weren’t angry with him, to know that the kiss hadn’t ruined everything between you. but instead, he sat in his apartment, surrounded by the deafening quiet.
& seungkwan? seungkwan had been on you about it for days.
"seriously, you’re just going to leave things like this?" seungkwan had said one morning, his eyes narrowing at you over his cup of coffee. "you kissed him. you kissed seungcheol hyung. and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen. you think he’s not waiting for you to come around?"
you hadn’t responded at first, unsure of how to even begin to process it. all you could think about was the kiss, and how everything felt so wrong and so right in that moment, and how now, in the aftermath, everything was a mess.
"you’ve been so quiet about this. and it’s obvious to everyone. you’re both miserable. don’t you get it?" seungkwan continued, his voice growing more insistent. "you can’t just let it go, not after that. you owe it to yourself & especially to him to figure out what this is. what he is to you."
you had shaken your head, turning away, not wanting to face the truth. "i don’t even know what it is. i don’t know if i—"
"you’re making it worse by not doing anything," he cut you off, his eyes narrowing. "stop running from it. just talk to him, okay? if you don’t, you’re going to regret it."
you sighed heavily, sinking back into the couch. you had never been good at this kind of thing, especially when it came to feelings. but something in seungkwan’s words made you pause. the last thing you wanted was to regret anything.
"i don’t know if i can," you murmured. "i don’t know if he’ll even want to talk to me after everything."
seungkwan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "stop thinking like that. he doesn’t know what to do either, so you’re both stuck, waiting for the other to make a move. just go to him. get your act together."
before you could respond, the door to your apartment unlocks, interrupting your conversation, and there stood seokmin, looking far too cheerful for the somber mood that had settled over you.
"hey, what’s going on in here?" he asked, stepping inside with his usual bright smile.
you shrugged, feeling the weight of seungkwan’s words pressing on your chest. "nothing much. just… thinking."
seungkwan immediately jumped in, as if he couldn’t help himself. "you need to go talk to seungcheol. i’m so done waiting for this mess to sort itself out."
seokmin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. "ah," he crossed his arms, settling into the couch. "you’re still haven't called huh?"
"no," you admitted, your voice small. "i don’t know what to say to him."
"yeah, well, you’re not the only one," seokmin said with a sigh, his tone softening. "but running away from it won’t solve anything. look, and you know what cheol's like. if you tell him you need space & time & that you'll call him, he's gonna listen & wait for you. he’s not going to make the first move until you do so go talk to him, okay? figure it out. or at least to put that guy out of his misery."
you nodded slowly, trying to take in his words. it wasn’t that simple. it never was. but seokmin had a way of speaking to you that made you feel like maybe, you could take that first step.
seungkwan was still persistent, though. "seriously, i’m not letting you off the hook. you still love him after all these years, don’t you?"
"i don’t know," you said, your voice cracking. "i think i do, but i don’t even know how to deal with even coming to terms that i like him. everything’s so messed up. i kissed him, and now i… i don’t know what to do with all of it."
seokmin looked at you with an almost knowing smile. "sometimes, things don’t have to be figured out all at once. it’s okay to just… see what happens. go to him and talk. take it one step at a time."
seungkwan nodded eagerly, as if the suggestion had finally gotten through to you. "exactly. just go. trust me, you’re both miserable. just fix it."
the decision was made. somehow, someway, you had to go to him. you didn’t know what you were going to say, or how you were going to fix everything that had gone wrong, but you knew you had to try. the thought of never knowing how he felt, or whether you had a chance, was unbearable.
it had been days since you last saw him. days since everything had spiraled. and now here you were, on the verge of either fixing things or making them worse. you stood frozen, unsure of what to do. your hands trembled slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely out of control.
you knocked softly, but the sound felt too loud in the quiet hallway. a few moments later, you heard the shuffle of footsteps from the other side, and your heart skipped a beat.
the door swung open, and seungcheol stood there, looking absolutely stunned to see you standing there. his eyes widened in confusion, and for a brief second, you both just stared at each other in silence.
he seemed to take a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "you… you’re here," he said quietly, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. "are you… okay?"
you didn’t know how to respond. you wanted to say so many things, but words felt like too much. you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to form a coherent sentence. the silence stretched, and then he spoke again, his voice breaking the tension.
"come in," he said softly, stepping aside to let you in, but you didn’t move. "did i… did i do something wrong? if i upset you, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to. i really didn’t." his voice was strained, as if he was holding back something. "i know we agreed on the whole fake dating thing for just 1 night, and maybe i crossed a line. but i didn’t mean to. i didn’t mean to make things complicated. I.. I didnt mean to make you uncomfortable.”
he sounded so genuinely sorry, and that was the moment it hit you—seungcheol was just as lost as you were.
you swallowed, forcing yourself to step over the threshold. you walked inside, every part of you feeling as though you were making a decision you couldn’t take back. the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do or say next.
he gestured toward the couch, but neither of you sat. there was a tension hanging between you two, something unsaid but felt in the air. you stayed there, frozen, trying to process your thoughts while he watched you, waiting for something.
he cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. "come sit, please," he said. "talk to me, please. is it something i did? i… i can't fix it if i dont know what i did wrong."
you shook your head slowly, still unable to find your words. you felt like a mess, and you could tell by his expression that he felt the same. the weight of everything that had happened—the kiss, the awkward distance between you two after—was hanging over you both.
finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "it’s not your fault."
"what do you mean?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, a mix of hope and worry in his gaze. "what’s not my fault?"
"i kissed you," you muttered, the words coming out rushed, almost in a panic. "it was me. i shouldn’t have done it. and i’m sorry."
he seemed taken aback, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "but… why? why did you kiss me?”
you bit your lip, looking down at the floor, avoiding his eyes for a moment. "i don’t know why," you admitted, the confession escaping before you could stop it. "i wasn't thinking…i just… i was jealous. i saw hanna with you, and i couldn’t stand it. i… i kissed you because of that, but now, i’m not sure if it was jealousy or because i like you."
seungcheol’s face softened, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sense of it. "you were jealous?" his voice was barely audible, as if the question itself was too much to bear. his eyes were glossy, and his hands trembled slightly at his sides. he took a step closer, his voice breaking as he spoke. "you… you like me?"
you took in a deep breath, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "i think so, i don’t know..I'm not sure but i don’t want to lose you over a stupid kiss."
seungcheol exhaled shakily as his heart falters to the pit of his stomach. he felt a mixture of anger, bitterness and heartbreak flare in his chest, his fingers threading through his hair as he took a moment to gather himself. "a stupid kiss," he repeated, “you dont know if you like me?” and there was a bitterness to his voice that made your chest tighten. he looked at you, his eyes shining with something raw, something that made your heart splinter.
"it's not just a stupid kiss to me," he whispered, and your breath caught. "do you know how long i’ve been in love with you? do you have any idea how many times i’ve tried to hold back these feelings because i was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same?"
your eyes widened, your knees nearly giving out at his words. "you… you're in love with me?" you whispered, barely able to believe it.
he let out a bitter laugh, the sound cracking in the air between you. "yeah," he said, his voice breaking on the word. "i’m in love with you. it’s been hell, watching you, waiting for the right moment, praying that maybe, one day, you'd feel the same. and then you kissed me, and god, for a second, i thought it was real. i thought maybe you felt it too."
your hands shook as you tried to process his confession, the weight of his words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless. "cheol…" you started, but he held up a hand, his gaze turning away from you.
"don't," he whispered, pain etched in every line of his face. "if you're not sure, if you don't know what you want, please… don't say anything. because this? this hurts too much."
your chest ached, your heart breaking at the sight of him, of the way he was barely holding himself together. "i’m sorry," you choked out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. "i didn’t know. i never realized—"
"that’s the thing," he interrupted, his voice strained. "i've always been here, and you never realized." he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to hold back his own tears. "i can’t… i can’t keep doing this if you don't feel the same,”
seungcheol softens as he took in a deep breath, “I can accept, no–I can understand if you don’t love me back,” he says, his voice breaking, “but i need you to at least be sure you like me. if you can’t even be sure you like me, then i don’t think i can do this.” his hands curl into fists on his knees, the weight of his words pressing into the air between you.
the tears come without warning, spilling down your cheeks as everything you’ve been holding back crashes over you. “cheol,” you begin to confess, voice trembling, “i was in love with you four years ago. back then, before everything. before my ex.” your confession hangs heavy, and you can see the shock and pain in his eyes.
“four years ago?” he chokes out. he’s crying too, his tears slipping silently down his face. “why didn’t you tell me?”
you wipe at your face, trying to catch your breath. “because i thought it was over. i thought my feelings had become platonic, that they’d evolved into this safe, distant affection. but seeing you... seeing hanna flirt with you... it hurt. it hurt because i realized i never really let you go. i still love you, cheol. and it’s not just this soft, easy love. it’s the kind that makes me want you even when it hurts.”
his sob catches in his throat, and he reaches for you, his hands trembling. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confesses, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “i tried to hide it. i tried to hold it back, but i couldn’t. you’ve always been the one, even when i knew i shouldn’t feel that way.”
the two of you sit there, crying together, the years of longing, misunderstandings, and suppressed emotions finally crashing down. he cups your face, thumb brushing away your tears. “so now what?” you ask, voice small and broken.
seungcheol pulls back slightly, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes, but there's something vulnerable there too. he smiles as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "now... now i ask you out on a date," he says, his voice softer, but his tone filled with so much emotion. “but—” he pauses, his smile fading slowly as his gaze turns serious now, “i’ll give you…five dates.”
“what? what do you mean?” your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
seungcheol's smile returns as he takes in your pouty face before clearing his throat, “i'll let you decide if you still want me after that. no pressure. in case you change your mind.” his hand goes to reach for a stray hair near your cheek and tucks it behind your ear as he gives you a soft smile, still holding a certain sadness and uncertainty to it.
you smile softly, shaking your head. “i don’t need five dates to know my answer, cheol. i'm not changing my mind.” bold adrenaline suddenly pumps through your blood, and you hastily pull seungcheol closer to you in a quick motion, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and then you place a quick kiss on his lips. it's nothing romantic by any means, neither was it movie-scene-worthy. it's nothing like that, but it is more than enough to soothe your soaring heart, and it's definitely more than enough to send your message across to seungcheol.
seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise as you pull away. "you’re…sure.” this time, it wasn't a question.
"i'm sure," you repeat anyway for him, stepping into his arms as your heart flutters at the feeling of him finally pulling you in, his embrace as warm as you'd imagined.
his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and desperation that sends a shiver down your spine. It feels like everything you've both been holding back for so long is coming unraveled, like this embrace is the start of something fragile but real. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and you feel his breath, heavy and uneven, as he holds on like he's afraid to let go.
"i've waited so long to hear you say that," he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. His words are shaky, the tremble betraying the vulnerability he’s still trying to hide. "i’ve wanted this for so long, but i never imagined it would feel this terrifying."
your hand finds his back, holding him just as tightly. "it’s terrifying for me too," you admit softly, your voice trembling. "but... i’m tired of being afraid.”
he pulls back slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his eyes search your face. “let’s give this a real chance, even if it scares us. even if it’s hard." he whispers, a hint of a smile breaking through the sorrow that had clouded his expression.
you nod, your eyes locked with his. "i want to," you say, feeling a fragile hope bloom in your chest. "i want us."
a soft, relieved laugh escapes his lips, and he pulls you into a real kiss this time—gentle, slow, and full of everything unspoken. It’s not perfect, but it feels like a promise, like a beginning you both desperately needed. you lose yourself in the moment, your heart pounding as the weight of everything finally starts to lift.
when you both pull away, breathless but smiling, seungcheol rests his forehead against yours. "so, about those five dates, even though you say you dont need them," he teases, his voice a little lighter now, a spark of his usual playful demeanor coming back. "should we count this one, or start fresh?"
you laugh, the sound bringing color back into the space between you. "maybe we should count this one," you say, your heart feeling impossibly full. "but only if it means you have to try extra hard to make the next four unforgettable."
his smile widens, the warmth in his eyes chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt. "deal," he says, his hands still resting on your waist. "i’ll make every single one worth remembering, just you wait."
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#svt angst#fanfic#seventeen x reader#scoups fanfic#seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol#seventeen angst#seungcheol seventeen#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#scoups seventeen#seventeen scoups#seungcheol angst#seungcheol fluff#scoups angst#scoups fluff#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#scoups x you#seungcheol x you
869 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK
SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.
WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE ; buckle up pookies, as this is merely part one of a multi-part fic that spans as far as the end of season three ( on the fence about season four but we will see ). as noted above, this fic will be canon adjacent, mainly focusing on the storyline as portrayed in the outer banks chapters of the 'netflix stories' mobile app. without any more of my yapping, i hope you all enjoy!
you can't help but squint once you step off the bus, your dollar store sunglasses doing very little to shield your eyes from the burning, outer banks sun. you bring your hand up in an attempt to further protect your eyes, needing to make your way to the seahorse hotel and fast.
a flash of long, blonde hair invades your vision, something you don't think twice about until the body attached to said hair knocks right into you, saturating your white tank top with her oversized cherry-coloured drink.
there's a beat of silence between both of you, behind darkened lenses your eyes bore into the girl before you. if looks could kill.
"shit! i am so sorry!" the blonde apologises, face turning as red as the newfound stain on your shirt. her hand darts out in an attempt to miraculously wipe the stain away "oh god, this is so embarrassing."
a part of you feels empathetic, it was an easy mistake to make in hindsight. another part of you wanted to push past the girl and continue getting on with your day.
"my name is sarah," she continues rambling, her hand still frequently scrubbing at the stain, making it worse "i didn't get your name, well no shit" the last part is barely a mumble, but you still catch it.
an unintentional laugh escapes you, finding amusement in her panicked awkwardness "if i tell you will you stop feeling me up?"
it was a joke, at least mostly, yet sarah froze in horror as the realisation set in. she was feeling up a stranger at the bus stop.
before she can begin rambling again, you speak up "my name is y/n." purposefully, you drop the surname. sure, sarah seemed sweet, but that didn't warrant spilling your life story at her feet.
sarah nodded in acknowledgement, taking a step out of your personal space and taking a proper look at you "touron?"
your face screws up, it feels like she just called you a name you couldn't repeat "excuse me?"
"you're a tourist, right?" sarah clarified, gesturing towards the scruffy backpack hanging from your shoulder.
"not quite," you trail off, unsure of how to broach your new arrival without dropping yourself in hot water "just, in town for a while."
"unlucky you.."
"unlucky how?"
sarah links her arm through yours, all but dragging you down the street alongside her "i'll fill you in on the way."
your protests and kidnapping allegations fell on deaf ears, only being told to stop being dramatic as she dragged you along. eventually, the dragging falls back into you willingly walking with her through pristine neighbourhoods that housed buildings like nothing you had ever seen.
you listened as sarah explained the outlandish rules that accompanied living on the island. the outer banks were essentially split in half, the kooks and the pouges, the haves and the have-nots, the sarahs and the y/ns.
when her pace eventually stalls, you have to tense your jaw to stop your mouth from falling open. you had seen some serious houses on the way here, but compared to sarahs they looked like dives.
"welcome to tanneyhill" sarah beams, but you can feel the uncertainty bubbling inside her as if she was embarrassed "come on, i'll show you my room."
you follow her through the glass doors and into the manor, eyes intently scanning the walls as you climb the staircase "you make a habit of bringing random strangers into your house?"
"do you make a habit of going home with random strangers?"
"depends if they're my type."
your quick rebuttal elicits a laugh from sarah as she pushes the door open, waving you into her room and heading straight for the closet "and what is your type?"
"you sweet on me, stranger?" you tease, your playful tone making it clear you were simply messing with her.
"with my whole heart, newbie" she laughs, the contents of her closet being dropped to the floor as she rifled through it "but our secret love affair must remain hidden as i am a taken lady"
with a dramatic gasp, you slap your hand to your chest and fall back on the bed "you wound me."
"sarah 'the heartbreaker' cameron is what they call me." as you're processing her surname, a white cropped tank is flung at you from the opposite side of the room "now, come on, boy talk"
"what if i wanna girl talk?" you question, holding the piece of fabric up to examine it "sarah 'the homophobe' cameron more like"
as she crosses the room to sit alongside you, sarah rolls her eyes "my sincerest apologies, sex talk then"
"cameron now i really think you want me." you wiggle your eyebrows at her, huffing when she hits you with a pink pillow with a sparkly 's' "hey! watch the rhinestones"
"you know, i was gonna try play matchmaker at the boneyard tonight but if you wanna be like that.."
"you just said a lot of words with very little meaning" you tut, not fully clued in on the outer banks slang.
by now you have risen to your feet, standing between the bed and the window as you changed into the clean shirt, balling up the stained one and stuffing it in your backpack.
"its a pre-storm rager on the beach, the one place kooks and pouges get along. we party as long as we can and when the storm hits, run for cover"
you're only half listening to sarah, instead your attention hones in on the head of curly brown hair down on the dock as it moves along a boat named 'my druthers'.
you barely register the figure by your side, watching just as closely as you were as the brunette is joined by three others, laughing and joking.
"that would be john b," without looking you can hear sarahs grin, mistaking your fascination for attraction.
"routledge?" your mouth opens before your brain can stop it, you knew who it was, but you needed to hear it.
"you know him?"
finally, your brain catches up and you somehow manage to pull a lie out of your ass "not personally, saw him on tv. some appeal for his dad."
sarah bellows out a soft, sad sigh, letting her thoughts be known without saying a word. there's an unspoken air of silence between you, until sarah, literally, shakes it off and stands upright again.
"wanna meet him?" the blonde offers, despite the fact its more of a demand as you're being dragged along once again.
only this time your refusal is much clearer, practically begging the girl to let you go before she managed to get you out into the yard. again sarah is misreading the situation, interpreting your panic as awkward butterflies.
your demands persist, though much quieter as you're dragged further down the dock, closer to john b and his friends.
"hello, ladies" john b's blonde friend greets with a low whistle and a cheeky grin, shamelessly checking both you and sarah out.
for a moment your anxiety vanishes, your entire nervous system sparking still but for different reasons. this might be the most beautiful boy you've ever set eyes on.
this. this was your type.
"you're new" he speaks, gesturing towards you "that's for sure, yet to be a time i've forgotten a face like that." with a wink, he takes your hand to place a kiss on the back of it.
you curse god. why couldn't you have met this guy somewhere else? why wasn't he the blonde stranger that took you home?
"you done macking on the kook?" a girls voice echos from behind him, her words and her expression dripping with disgust as she eyed you.
"i'm not a kook." you bite back, sightly too aggressive for a first impression but you couldn't help it with the look of clear disdain embedded on her face.
sarahs arm links through yours, a mumbled "easy, newbie" falling only on your ears "y/n is new in town, i brought her down here while i found out what you guys are doing on my dads boat." despite her civility there's a challenging edge in her voice.
"lest ye forget, i work here."
john b, suddenly emerging from the ships hull and hurling a snide smile in sarahs direction. you had only ever seen him on fuzzy news broadcasts, he was taller than you had anticipated, confrontational too.
though, genetics could explain that one.
"can we help you?" the girl speaks again, sending your eyes rolling as you face john b.
"can you tell your guard dog to stand down? last i checked one of us was invited here and funnily enough it wasn't her"
you hear another boy mumble an excited "cat fight!" to your new, blonde, hyperfixation as they exchange money on bets.
"seriously? i expect this shit from jj but pope? disappointing" john b tutted, sounding like a disappointed father as he got off the boat "not looking for trouble, just bringing back the diving shit, full."
menial conversation is exchanged between sarah and john b, though your attention mainly resides with the newly named jj. he was leaning back against the boat, rolling a joint without a care in the world.
you try to keep the glances to a minimum, after all you had much bigger problems to wade through right now, but you simply couldn't look away. he was the definition of magnetic.
even when he catches you looking, there isn't a morsel of awkwardness, just a knowing look of curiosity that lingered far longer than it should have.
then, he winks. he fucking winks before returning to rolling with that stupid, insanely hot grin on his face. you were far from shy, and only for the audience around you, you would've jumped on him long ago.
any reckless ideas potentially coming to fruition is spoiled when sarah, still linked with you, retreats back toward tanneyhill. with a final glance back at jj, you hold your thumb and pinky to your ear and mouth 'call me', earning yourself a wink and a crossed heart in return.
maybe this wouldn't pan out to be a total shit show after all.
#maybanksmusings#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank#outer banks#obx#obx 4#obx season 4#kiara carrera
556 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 11 - The Empress
summary : Eris comes over to spend the holidays with you, and drags jayce and viktor in tarot readings. Some bad news linger in the air, but nez beginnings are blooming.
content warnings : lots of dialogue. like a lot. and an enourmous amount of tarot yapping, some angst, and some fluff to close it all
word count : 12,4k
author's note : i hate having like zero perception of my own writing ARGH i hope this is good. gosh this is so long. but hey first writing post of 2025 yey!!!
NOT proofread for now
masterlist : here
Piltover under the snow had a profoundly different atmosphere to its usual gilt. The domes and roofs covered in thick snow gave the impression that all the clouds in the sky had fallen on the town, covering it in a smooth white mantle. It seemed silent, as if frozen in time.
As you emerged from the dormitory building, wrapped in your scarf up to your nose, you were greeted by the incessant waltz of snowflakes falling from the sky, tumbling like white feathers like all the angels in the skies had removed their leaves like the trees, simply guided by the wind towards an unknown destination. But it didn't matter, they were flying, simply free.
Your boots crunched in the snow as you set off towards the bridge to find Eris. The day had come for you to pick her up, and as agreed you were going to meet her at the usual bridge linking the two cities.
The town was all decked out with garlands and lights criss-crossing from buildings to buildings, apparently firmly preventing any colour other than gold from running through its streets. The carcasses of trees stripped of their foliage were lit up again, the majority of passers-by had their gloved hands around a cup of hot chocolate, and children were running after each other with snowballs in their hands ready to fire at their friends.
Still, there were fewer people than usual, the majority staying at home in the comfort and warmth of a well-insulated fireplace. You didn't need to wonder what it was like in Zaun, you had spent enough winters there that you didn't miss it.
The lack of heat in the promenade level wasn't too bad, although it would have been useful to have good chimneys or radiators that didn't break every other day. Some of the holes in the roofs led to leaks, but despite a few power cuts, it was possible to live normally.
Surprisingly, the sump level was the least worst. The constant heat from the machines brought a little warmth back to the bowels of the city, and this time the most hard-pressed workers found themselves in a new level of comfort.
As for the entresol level, it was a terrible in-between. Too far away from the big energy machines, and receiving the freezing snows in certain crevices falling from the top, the entresol level was poorly housed, at least in your memories. Who knows, perhaps public heaters filled with flammable resources had been introduced to prevent anyone from being absent from the streets.
When you reached the bridge, it was almost deserted, apart from the unfortunate enforcers chosen on this day to ensure customs and passage between each town. With your hands shoved into your pockets, you waited for your friend to appear in the distance.
It was always preferable for you to be present and to set up a meeting point like this, just in case the enforcers wanted to cause problems for nothing when looking for papers and for you to confirm that she was with you.
Sky would no doubt have liked to come and meet your friend. You had already spoken to her about your soul sister, and she would have greatly appreciated seeing her. But Sky was already on the other side, spending her holidays with her family on the Promenade level. You hoped she wouldn't have any problems, no leaks, no power cuts.
At last you saw your friend's face, wearing a cap almost as black as her hair, as she made her way painfully towards the enforcers. Mechanically, she took out her papers, her fingertips peeking out of her mittens as she passed them to the officer before quickly stuffing them back into her pocket to keep out the cold. She exchanged an annoyed glance with you as the man made sure everything was in order, earning you a chuckle as she puffed out her cheeks before sighing heavily. He finally handed her her papers, and she gave him a polite but cold smile before moving towards you.
"It's like they take their time on purpose," she breathed, before taking you in her arms.
You hugged her back, despite the thickness of the coats that separated you with difficulty. "You're too pretty for the Piltover standards, they have to double-check if you're real."
With a tired laugh, she backed away from you, squeezing your shoulders and examining you for a moment. "Have you been doing something to your skin or is it just the perfect air of the city that does that?"
You brought your gloved hands to your cheeks, not really having changed your routine. "I'll have to look at what was in that champagne they served at the masquerade."
She raised her eyebrows, then frowned. "Masquerade?"
"Let's walk home," you said as you started to move forward, "I'll tell you one the way."
"You seem to be having a whole lot of fun without me around, young lady. I envy you," sighed Eris. "I don't get many highlights in my days."
"Am I not the highlight of your day?’"
"As long as we aren't in a warm place, you're not."
"Ouch!" you say falsely offended, bringing your hand to your chest. "This vexes me."
"I'm sure you'll overcome this affront." She pressed her shoulder against yours. "Tell me about what I missed. Since when do you go to masquerades?"
You sighed, a wisp of steam rising into the sky as you finally reached the end of the bridge. "After the exams, our dear Jayce Talis asked us to come with him to a masquerade because he was terrified of it."
"Us? Did Sky come with you?" Eris repeated, arching an eyebrow.
You shook your head, as if it was really ridiculous. "If only it had been Sky," you turned to her. "The Emperor himself has honoured us with his presence."
"Are things always this thorny with him?" She questioned.
You shrugged. "I don't know."
"You? Not knowing? That's a first," Eris chuckled.
"It's just... I don't know." You sighed, taking a turn with Eris. "There's change everywhere and I still have to get used to it, change in my relationships, in my mind." You let your shoulders drop. "Maybe I also need a change of scenery."
"Buy a plant." sighed Eris at the sight of the stairs you were about to climb.
"Won't be needed," you sneered. "Turns out we're going to Demacia once the holidays are over, apparently."
"Demacia?" Eris exclaimed, "I'll need to make you a list of things to bring me back."
"Do I need to take a second suitcase if I'm going to bring everything back?" You asked.
"You'll need to pack a second suitcase so I can sneak in and come with you."
"How should I explain this to security?"
She shrugged, pressing her lips forward in a pout. "They'll just pass me off as a national treasure."
You chuckled, Eris smiling back before resuming.
"But weren't your exams supposed to be after the holidays?"
"That's the thing, I've already taken them."
She looked at you deeply confused.
"I know," you confirmed by the look on her face, "had a near death experience. Overworked myself."
"Nobody's surprised so far," Eris confirmed.
"Underslept," you went on.
"As always."
"Under ate."
Eris turned to you. "This is actually starting to border on dangerous."
"So I ended up very ill, passed out and spent a feverish night during which..."
You thought back to that morning, remembering the sunlight streaming through Viktor's hair, his fingers resting on your forehead before returning to his temple, his insistence that you get some rest.
"Which?" asked Eris awaiting the end of your sentence.
You swallowed, sniffling as your nose began to get damp from the cold. "During which Viktor stayed by my side to make sure I was okay."
She arched an eyebrow, a naughty little smile playing on her lips.
"And..." she said, her tone a little playful as you sensed what she was about to say, "are you sure the dislike is mutual?"
You sighed almost brutally. "Not you too."
"Who else theorises my way?"
"Who else but Selene?"
"Ah, the wisest woman alive," she exhaled. "Is he here during the holidays, Vik-tor?"
She deliberately lengthened the pronunciation of his name, making you roll your eyes. "Apparently, yes. Jayce and him are staying over in their apartment."
"Great, sounds like plan for us to meet them."
"You want to meet the number one cause that got me to almost shake hands with death?"
"He is also the number one cause that pulled you out of this situation which I suppose you got yourself into all on your own." She had a point, and you half-closed your mouth, but she just took the wind out of your sails. "Your clit has millions of nerve endings but it's still less sensitive than your ego."
Shocked by the stupidity of her sentence, you laughed nervously, her joining you in a fit of laughter.
"I'll know what to write in my presentation on Zaun's slang."
"I hope you'll give me proper credit."
"Of course I do. I just hope the teacher marking us doesn't put ‘verbal drip’ in the margin. I'd risk 15 years of psychotherapy just to be able to cherish the hope of recovering from that."
"The famous paper you're sharing with the charming Viktor."
"You call him charming when you haven't even seen him."
"What, isn't he charming?"
You thought back to the masquerade, his dark hair with strands falling lightly over his mask, his amber eyes highlighted with kohl piercing you as he sketched a smile that raised the mole on his cheek.
"I suppose by most standards he's not bad."
"Not bad. I suppose I'll see for myself."
"I will use your vocal cords as floss," you breathed once more as you continued on your way.
"Use one of Talis' hair instead, I'm sure it'll be cleaner than anything from Zaun."
"Leave Jayce out of this, poor guy has had enough of our constant bickering with Viktor for his entire life."
"You're already acting like an old couple," quipped Eris.
"I wish you the mumps," you grumbled, "but speaking of couples, Jayce is apparently dating none other than Mel Medarda."
She turned to you. "The counsellor?" She asked in confirmation.
"Yup, met her at the masquerade."
"How is she? Apart from breathtakingly gorgeous and perfect?" Questioned Eris.
"I don't like saying bad things about people, but she's actually nice," you replied.
"Hmm," she hummed. "Did you know that If given access to it, butterflies will happily drink blood?"
You turned to her, the change in conversation seeming strange. "Really."
"Yes," she continued, "they won't bite or harm other creatures to get it though. They are solely taking advantage of whatever foods are available in their environment. So most of those up above aren't too far off. Their beauty and supposed simplicity isn't everything, especially in a world as gilded and polished as Piltover's." Her eyes went to the golden tower of the council. "Do you think she's a butterfly?"
You now understood her reasoning. Sometimes you didn't always understand what she was trying to get across, unpredictable as she was. "I don't think she's much of a butterfly, I see her more like a dove in a golden cage."
"I don't have the material to be one of these birds, but if I was a bird..." began Eris, and you felt a déjà vu of conversation emerge following the end of your masquerade evening.
"What, you wish you could fly?"
"I know who I'd shit on."
You huffed. "Got a target in mind?"
"Not for now, but I guess you got yours?" She kept teasing you, and you knew you'd never get to the bottom of it.
"Apparently not any more, we're currently on a truce."
"A truce," she nodded once, dramatically.
"What does it consist of?"
"Fewer problems, more help, more opportunities, and..." you thought for a moment about Viktor's coat still lying in your dressing room, "less cold."
"Less cold?" She repeated.
"Mhm," you hummed as you finally reached the dormitory area.
"I think I'm going to like this Viktor," she confirmed.
"What, are you going to fall for his charms?"
"I'll leave this task to you, dearest trouble."
Eris had put her things in the bedroom, occupying Sky's bed, which would be free until the last weekend of the holidays. She knew the flat. During the times you'd had it to yourself when you weren't sharing it with anyone, she'd come and sleep there whenever she had the chance.
You couldn't count the number of times you'd both laughed there, the stupid things you'd done, or the number of heart-to-heart chats you'd had at three in the morning.
Despite Eris's many complaints, you took her to see Emmeline, who took her in her arms and, like a distant relative who talks about having changed our nappies when we were babies, kept telling her that she had changed.
With a few sweets offered, you returned to the dormitories, enjoying them while chatting about everything and anything. Her eyes inevitably fell on your tarot cards.
"Did you draw one every day?" She asked, stuffing another marzipan sweet into her mouth.
You swallowed your own mouthful, sucking the excess sugar off your fingers. "Apart from the few days I was too busy to study to do so, yeah."
She grabbed another sweet. "Did you do your reading this morning?"
"I thought that with you here we could get a better and proper reading, to see what I learned?"
"Oh you're a master of the art now?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
She wiped her fingers in a final gesture. "Let's go into the hall by the fireplace. Not that I don't like the flat, but being by a nice fire in a big armchair is much nicer."
And so, taking with you your own card deck, you headed down the hall.
Most of the students had left to return to their families, leaving the building virtually deserted for your own delight. All the armchairs and sofas were free, and it was only natural that you should sit down on the two sofas facing each other by the fire.
Eris placed the box and the small booklet of your deck on the varnished wooden coffee table separating the both of you, keeping the cards in her bare fingers covered with a few tattoos along their length. They weren't her only tattoos, of course. She had a few on her arms, ink under the skin being almost unavoidable in Zaun. They were covered, though, by the long sleeves of the jumper you'd lent her when she arrived.
It felt good to abandon the academy uniform for a moment and dress without restraint. Oversized shirts, oversized hoodies and oversized pants were the watchwords for your holiday clothes, in contrast to the Academy vest that clung to your body all the time.
"A general reading?" She questioned, kocking on the back and front of the deck.
"I guess," you breathed as you leaned over, elbow on your knees, "I just hope I don't end up with another tower again."
"Wasn't it for the best though?"
You thought back over the last few months, the constant torment hadn't been pleasant at all, but the achievements you'd made were undoubtedly a real step forward.
"Yeah," you half admitted.
Eris huffed, knowing full well that you wouldn't fully concede this fact even if it were scientifically proven. In a perfect, expert gesture, she spread out the line of cards.
"Just three cards right?"
"Just three cards, for now at least."
Just like two months ago, you repeated your gestures, letting your hand float over the cards like a storm cloud looking for the highest point to strike with its thunderbolt. Once the three cards had been drawn, Eris folded the clean cards back into a perfectly straight deck.
"Let's see what we're working with."
She turned over the first card. Four of Swords. The card was covered in grey, a surprise considering the rest of her deck's twins always sported a variety of colours.
"Good start." commented Eris before moving on to the second card.
Two of Wands, a man in a carmine cloak, was looking into the distance.
"Adds up," she confirmed before finally reaching the last card.
The Lovers.
Your eyes met Eris's, pressing her lips and eyes hard as she tried to stop herself from laughing.
"Whatever you're about to say, don't," you decided.
She had to take a deep breath to refocus and stop herself from giggling.
"I'm not the one who pulled the cards," she almost coughed as she grabbed the deck and looked at the shadow card. "Interesting."
"How interesting?"
She turned the deck towards you. "Interesting."
The Empress reigned under it.
You swallowed, thinking back to the Emperor card drawn for Viktor, your eyes drifting inevitably to the lovers card.
"Much more positive than our last draw, if I may say so."
You say nothing, simply sighing as you place one of your hands in the palm of the other. "Just start it."
She cleared her throat, putting the deck down again and letting the Empress reign over the top of the deck. She picked up the Four of Swords card.
"That's pretty much in line with what's been going on lately, and by that I mean relaxing."
"So I'm just... resting?"
"Not just resting, you're resting like a hero. Not everyone has their recumbent in a church. I take it the exams went well all things considered?"
"First place," you replied.
She pressed her lips into an inverted smile and shook her head. "So mediocre, I expected better than you."
You smiled at her sarcasm, you missed her teasing.
"In any case, you left a part of yourself there that was no longer useful, because to have a recumbent on your grave you have to be dead."
You thought back to the death card you'd drawn and Sky had read to you. The reaper had done his work so that with his sickle the weeds were cut down and new healthy plants grew there.
"In the stained glass window," she continued, "you can see two figures, one kneeling before the other. It's easy to see from this card that, through stability, it's peace that we're looking for - especially after experiencing pain - as opposed to the anguish of not being sure, of not even knowing if tomorrow there won't have been something that will have made us see everything differently."
The champagne hadn't betrayed you by making you agree to things you would otherwise have thought you'd never have said yes to.
"It was a situation of stagnation that you cut out," Eris pointed out, "values inculcated by parents or other authority figures that you had no use in following any longer, that you took on yourself without questioning them."
"So basically I was stupid?"
"Why are you saying this in the past tense?"
You giggled, "Shut up."
She smiled, continuing her explanation. "It was mostly a refusal to reconsider things; resentment or refusal to give a second chance. You stayed in that place that didn't suit you because you were already there, it was something you knew and there's nothing more reassuring than things you know - even if they hurt you." She reassured following your question. "It's a card that represents retirement, isolation, sleep and illness. An excellent moment of respite during which you can contemplate the past, learn from it and make peace with what you've been through."
‘’Right, enough about my past.‘’ You sighed, realising that the cards were obviously well aware of what had happened. "What about my future?"
"You're skipping a step here," she said as she put the card back down, taking the Two of Wands, "because before your future, there's your present."
"It's just a transition between past and future, present doesn't exist, there are only 2 times."
"There are four times," Eris pointed out. "Past," her fingers pointed at the Four of Swords as if she had a pistol, "present," she pressed them against the Two of Wands, "future," her fingers reached for the title of the Lovers, and just as you thought she'd be pointing at the Empress, she pointed one hand at the it while the other aimed her fingers at you, "and forever. It's a time too often forgotten since it's the only time we live entirely, but it truly exists."
You sighed, nodding at her lesson as she picked up the Two of Wands card.
"After the four, whose monotonous stability has taken us out of repetitive circles, the two is an encounter, but not just any encounter."
"Am I going to meet someone again?" You huffed, the prospect not thrilling you any more than that.
"Not necessarily. As you probably know from the tarot's classification of colours, the wands represent desire, the swords rule the realm of the mind, the cups are the emotions, and since there's nothing left in us after those three, what's left is the material, which is governed by the pentacles. What can desire encounter? Nothing but the world, against which it will have to measure itself if it wants to achieve."
"So I'm going to conquer Demacia, am I?" You leaned back, looking at the card. "That's still in the future, not the present."
"That's because Meeting plus Desire equals evaluation. You're evaluating in the present what's going to happen."
You understood the intriguing twists and turns of the multi-card tarot reading more and more. It was completely different from the simple one-card readings you used to do for yourself.
"The first thing desire does as it develops is confront reality." She brought both hands towards her, all her fingers together as she pointed at her shoulders. "I have my desire, I realise there's the world, so I wonder how I'm going to combine the two. It's evaluation time."
It was when Eris was working on the cards that you realised just how professional and educational she was. She was patient in spite of your useless remarks and knotted the lines of the cards together to make a clear and precise explanation.
"Behind the battlements," she continued, pointing to the symbols, "the man dominates the landscape: planning requires height and perspective. The globe in his hand," she pointed to the drawings one by one, "reminds us that the world belongs to him if he manages to combine his desire with reality. The village facing the ocean gives the idea of openness; the strategy in place allows us to open up our horizons. The blooming blasin that appears in the niche recalls the roses and lilies of the fool. Where the latter is in the thick of the action, the man on the Two of Wands is still observing. But in both cases, it's the same thing - which is it?"
You looked at the card, going over what Eris had explained to you. "Apply your will to the world."
She snapped her finger, pointing it at you. "Exactly. The whole point of these cards is that," she took the two cards in each of her hands to show them to you so that they faced each other, "where we've abandoned patterns that no longer interest us and that we followed blindly with the Four of Swords, the Two of Wands reminds us that now that a new world is open to us, it would be a good idea to evaluate it before you can forge your true will and apply it to the world around you."
She put the cards back down straight as she crossed her legs. "It's the evaluation of a project, a partner, an opportunity - gathering information, studying feasibility, a skills assessment or whatever to observe and ask ourselves if it's really what we want, and if it really corresponds to the expression of the need."
"Do the cards tell you all that?"
"I'm the card whisperer, haven't you confirmed that?" She designated her body, sweeping the air from her shoulders to her thigh.
"You do your readings to all your customers like this?"
"You're a very special client, I have to adapt to my audience," she said as she straightened, her eyes returning to the card. "It's also all about planning and preparing for a big trip, I hope Demacia will have a stoic enough stomach to digest you. In any case, you're asking yourself a lot of questions. Is it really what I want? Is it really possible to get what I want, given the circumstances and the means at my disposal?"
Were you ready to accept Viktor as a friend in your life? The last few months had worn you down so much that you were sincerely wondering how things were going to go. Would it be the same bickering every day? Would it be different? You still didn't know where you stood on the question, the map was right.
"Now," she rubbed her hands excitedly, "the future." She took the card in her hand, raising it to your eyes. "What do you see?"
You bent down, looking at the illustration. An angel filling the sky, a crown of leaves encircling its head, its carmine wings reaching down to a woman on the left and a man on the right, both naked. Your eyes returned to Eris', a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"Please don't tell me it's about me and Viktor getting naked." You asked, your tone almost plaintive and asking for pity. Why did it always have to be about him?
She stretched her lips. "I'm not saying you and Viktor are going to get naked, but I definitely wanted to hear you say it."
You rolled your eyes, resting your chin on your palm.
"The lovers' card isn't necessarily to be taken literally, I thought with your immense sense of deduction you'd have come to that conclusion." She turned the card towards her. "The Lovers card is a card of choice. In the Original Tarot, it represents a, arrowed angel over a man hesitating between two women, one young and seductive and the other older and rather severe. It sometimes shows the crossroads between vice and virtue, with the idea that one should obviously choose virtue." She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Only, if you had to have virtue, it would be by discipline, so the Cupid on the old card would have no place there. The Tarot should help to better understand who we are; therefore, the card of choice should teach me how to make the right choice for myself, not for moral teachers."
She turned the card back to you. "The central character in the old cards hesitates because he has as many reasons to go one way as the other. It's easy to imagine that the older woman is wiser than the younger one, but the younger one is kinder than the older one..." she swung the card between her fingers like a pendulum. "But the older one is more experienced... and so on. So the message is clear: when it comes to making the right choice for me, reason isn't going to help me. Choosing your career on purely objective criteria is the best way to make yourself unhappy, because it's choosing what anyone should do, when you're not just anyone."
She held the card out to you like a mirror, the varnish on the thick glazed paper gleaming in the firelight.
"How do I make the right choice for me?" You asked, your eyes moving from the card to find hers.
“By turning to the only thing at your disposal that isn't commonplace, your sensibility.” She smiled. "When it comes to the choices that matter, reason can only lose us. So you have an essential tool for the journey ahead of you," she says, her free fingers resting on the Two of Wands. "To make the right choice, your reason knows it's useless on its own, so it turns to your sensibility, because it's connected to something higher, something that's never wrong."
Your eyes drifted over the silhouette of the man and woman.
"This is the path to harmony. We mustn't forget that it's just as valuable as the path to glory, although we're only bombarded with examples of the latter, because to be known, you have to surpass the others."
Your first place seemed more bitter than the sweetness it had brought you when you learned of your victory. Your cheeks warmed as you thought of all the comments your little family Eris and Selene made had suggested.
"And the lovers' card has no sentimental connection?"
She offered you a benevolent smile. "It's the card of love as the most obvious cry of affection. The card of mutual attraction, of the sentimental relationship, of the soul mate - becoming one. A balanced love relationship where one matchs the other, where the partners are complementary and in tune with each other as opposed to love at first sight which can leave us in shock like a certain arcane number sixteen you know all too well, burning sexuality like that of the wands and their insatiable desire, or illusory relationships."
The man and woman on the lovers' card weren't necessarily just opposites, they were mirrors of each other.
"It's a bit scary," you admitted.
"The veracity of the cards?"
"That, and..." you pointed quickly at the card, "them."
"Love is either sought after as the solution to all problems, or shunned like the plague. It's neither. There's nothing to be afraid of."
"Yeah well," you sighed, "can't help but be scared of something I never experienced."
You hadn't really had time to dwell on love affairs, so much so that until today you didn't have a single ex to your name. You had been so determined to achieve academic perfection that you had pushed any potential distraction out of your way. And now, with the possibility of a breakthrough on the horizon, you were terrified.
If love struck, would you be able to fight back?
"Let's not close any doors to the future," pointed Eris, laying down the lovers' card, “especially with a card like the one we have for the globality of this reading.”
She picked up the Empress card, presenting it to you again as if you were the artist's inspiration for this illustration.
"The Empress is the card of creation and fertility."
You recoiled slightly in surprise. "Please don't tell me that by some misfortune I'm going to get pregnant."
"It's not necessarily fertility in the literal sense, although that's part of it in certain specific cases," she cackled as her attention returned to the card. "It's the card of generation from within yourself. You have to have depth if you want to create, because to create is to bring something out of yourself. If the creative process is so mysterious, it's because it takes place in our deepest recesses. She is depicted in a sensual pose, creation being a matter of love and pleasure, as much in the flesh as in the intellect, because ideas germinate in the mind that conceives them."
You looked at the cards again, frowning.
"I see you're beginning to understand."
"So," you tried to summarise, "taking a step back from the situation and creating my own convictions is going to lead me to... fuck my way up to the top?"
Eris bobbed her head like one of those spring-loaded dolls, rolling her eyes at the sky. "Among other things." She put the card down, pointing as she had before at each symbol. "Three is a creation number, given that if you put 1+1 and turn off the light, it's through their power of generation, sexual, that they will become 3 by creating a child." She moved her finger. "The ball-shaped sceptre represents the total domination of the Empress of the Earth. Her crown extends her reign over the entire cycle of the year. The stars are six-pointed, the triangle forwards and backwards: her power is both material, nature, and spiritual, intelligence," she explained, her hands weighing the words our like a balance.
Your eyes drifted back to the Two of Wands, resting on the globe that man held.
"The eagle on the shield of the Original Tarot represents intelligence; this bird flies high and has a piercing gaze. However, its wing is still in its infancy. Its creativity has no other purpose than itself, so it can fly off in all directions without producing anything usable. The Emperor's eagle, on the other hand, will be complete because it will have added what the Empress lacks in order to master the whole process of the material world."
She exchanged a look with you. "She represents the creation of harmony from disordered elements so that the matter develops freely, like building a system or a plan. It's also femininity in full bloom, sensual, self-confident, seductive," she winked at you in an exaggerated way that made you smile. "It's about building a relationship with for mutual development, but not only that." She moistened her lips. "It's what you create out of yourself, the protector, the one who cares, who develops, who accompanies. The one who helps a company, a group or a project to grow."
She straightened up after this listing. "Something is born, brought into being, cultivated or made to believe: a vocation, possibilities. It's Abundance, and being ready to share its wealth with others, out of pleasure and love." She turned her eyes for a moment to the fire in the fireplace. "A simple ‘want’ is not enough to move the fixtures that business creation requires, nor is a desire rooted in selfishness or hatred, like doing something only to break someone else."
She described a loose, descriptive movement over the cards with her arm. "So the Empress represents the power of generation, naked creativity, cool. But there's something missing," she smiled, "someone who's very creative can give birth to a whole bunch of great ideas... without ever achieving anything, because they go off in all directions." She turned to the deck and the card the Empress was covering. "You need structure and discipline for that."
She grabbed the card, bringing it close to the Empress's, and your lips parted in shock.
“The Emperor will bring them both to us.”
The Emperor's card was there, its presence unchanged, its meaning weighing on your warming heart. She placed the last two cards on the table with an air of satisfaction. You looked at the deck for a moment, the cards interlocking. You took the Empress's card in your hand, hovering over every detail of ink and colour on it.
Was it really you? This charismatic, strong-willed being? Could you really become this, this abundant being?
"Wow," you breathed, setting the card down on the table as Eris picked up her sisters to put them away again and you slumped back on the sofa. "That's something."
"Yup," Eris confirmed.
You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment as your eyes drifted towards the fire, thinking about the huge bag of information and truths that Eris had just dumped on your thoughts and that you were probably going to be thinking about for a very long time. And yet one name kept lingering in your mind.
"Say," you asked, your eyes returning to her, "why do you all think that Viktor and I could be... something?"
She giggled, leaving the deck on the table before resting her elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting her cheek on her fist. "You're asking me that as my first question after this reading?"
You sighed, your knee jerking repeatedly as you lowered your eyes to the floor. "Just... answer the question."
She knew there were certain limits to bickering. "Well," she began, "from what I've been hearing from you, you truly respect him, as in the name at the top of your 'list of respect'. He practically saved your life when you were fighting against your own stubbornness, and..." she seemed to search for words for a moment. "I get the impression that he's the person you make the most effort to be accepted by in your entourage."
"And... on a deeper level?"
"On a deeper level, in my humble opinion as the heart sister and friend you've known the longest in your life, I get the impression that, subconsciously, you're seeking his approval. Because now that he's given you a taste of what it was like to lose on your own ground and made you realise how much it was destroying you, you're grateful to him even if you refuse to admit it, to others and to yourself." She watched you for a moment, circling you under her skilful, sharp gaze. "I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others. And that scares you," she shook her head, "but I honestly think the fact that he's come into your life is the best thing that's happened to you in a long time."
That's what you liked about Eris, her honesty. She didn't care about hurting people's feelings or exposing them raw to the eyes of all, time was too short for pointless little lies, and she realised the truth of that very early on.
And you weren't offended, but you felt stripped bare by her words. That was probably what frightened you, finding yourself and the truth shining through for everyone to see. That was probably why the lovers were undressed. They saw each other stripped of all lies, hearts open as they created harmony.
Only two people knew you completely, the two members of your family. But that you could find someone who wasn't part of this circle and who saw all these things in you and accepted them no matter what, to lead you towards the best? It was new, and there's nothing more terrifying than the new. But surely, that was the lesson of the cards.
Yet your train of thought was interrupted when two figures you recognised all too well entered the hall.
"I think " you croaked, Eris following your gaze and turning towards them.
Jayce and Viktor, in casual clothes, were approaching you.
Eris turned back to you, shocked and shaking her head. "Is that what you call not bad?!" she almost shouted in her whisper.
You shrugged your shoulders and shook your hands. "I said by most standards!"
"I'm going to end up having heart attacks if your judgement's this poor."
"Hey there!" called Jayce as he approached. "Didn't think I'd find you here."
He wore a charming smile, dressed in a chunky cream hoodie and brown jogging bottoms. You'd already described to Eris what Jayce looked like, bringing back one of the class photos from your year so she could really see him.
Viktor, on the other hand, was wearing a brown turtleneck covered by a black cardigan, as were his wide pleated plaid trousers. He was frowning, his eyes shifting from you to Eris in confusion.
Eris turned to you, waiting for you to make the introductions.
"Jayce, Viktor," you pointed at Eris, "this is Eris. My sister."
"Pleased to meet you, Jayce," the latter smiled, extending his hand to shake hers as Eris stood up.
"Eris," she replied as Jayce gave way to his sidekick.
"Viktor," he said, squeezing her hand.
"I know," Eris smiled proudly as she turned her gaze back to you, "I've heard a lot about you."
You pressed your tongue lightly against the inside of your mouth as you laughed tiredly. Of course, now that he was here, she was going to be as playful as could be.
"Really?" Said Viktor, surprised as he turned to you.
"Absolutely," Eris replied.
"You never mentioned Eris was your sister," Jayce remarked.
"Best friend, sister, it's the same thing to me," you ranswered simply.
"Is that a Tarot deck I see here?" remarked Viktor.
Jayce riveted his eyes on the object. "You guys were playing?" he asked curiously.
"Eris was giving me a reading for the times ahead and other advice," you corrected.
"I'm a professional reader," she confirmed, "that's my job."
"How does that work?" asked Jayce, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of discovering something new.
"I can do a reading for you if it's okay with your schedule?" she suggested.
"Oh, we're just here to read and chat by the fire, nothing will be disturbed." Viktor assured her, resting his eyes on yours.
"All right then, let's go," she said, grabbing the deck.
Without missing a beat, Jayce took his place on the sofa where Eris was sitting. Viktor exchanged a glance with you, and you shrugged your shoulders and pointed to the seat next to you. Eris's words echoed as the leather slumped not far from you and Viktor placed his cane against the table.
"Alright, let me explain," began Eris as she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her tattoos.
Jayce seemed blown away by them, and you could feel his lips burning with the famous ‘did these hurt?’ which he never dared to say.
"I'm going to shuffle the cards so they're well mixed, then I'm going to...’’
But the conversation slowly faded into the background when Viktor spoke to you.
"I didn't think you'd dress like this on the daily," his voice was low, obviously not wishing to disturb the explanation to Jayce who seemed far too excited for this activity.
"What, you thought I slept in my uniform or something?" you questioned back.
He shrugged. "A bit."
You couldn't help but crack a smile before redirecting your gaze to Eris, looking at you both with a knowing glance.
Your smile faded as you straightened up, curious to see what Jayce would come up with.
"So all I have to do is take three cards?" He asked again.
"Yes," confirmed Eris.
"And can I show them or not?"
"Jayce, it's not a magic trick," informed Viktor.
Jayce turned to you, apparently waiting for your opinion too.
"Just pick three cards Jayce, the ones that call to you the most," you replied, resting your cheek on your fist.
"How do I know if they're calling me?" He questioned.
Viktor was already bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as Eris explained again. "Just take the cards you wish to take."
He straightened. "There are no traps are there?"
You and Viktor sighed in unison as you just urged him to take his damned cards.
"Alright alright fine," sighed the latter, raising his hands in the air, "left hand, right?" He asked to Eris.
"Yes," confirmed the witch.
"Right, off I go."
You exchanged glances with Viktor, both of you rolling your eyes as Jayce finally picked up his first card.
"Where do you want me to put it?"
"Anywhere," laughed Eris. "Jayce, you can't make any mistakes with tarot, you know that, right?"
‘’Right,‘’ he nodded, placing the first card in front of him above the card line.
The ace of Pentacle arrived on the table.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Jayce asked immediately.
"That depends on what you draw next," laughed Eris, ‘just keep pulling.’’
Jayce then drew the eight of pentacles, immediately turning to Eris to gauge her reaction as she looked at him with eyes that said ‘you know what I'm going to say’.
He then drew his last card, the nine of cups.
"Okay," smiled Eris as she picked up the rest of the cards and gathered them into a compact pile, turning it over and smiling at Jayce.
"Is it good?" He asked, turning to you and Viktor.
"It's horrible," you breathed.
His face decomposed. "Is it?"
"No, I just said that to tease you, you've got a good game," you turned to Eris, ‘’right?"
She giggled, uncovering the sun like shadow card.
"It's splendid, my dears."
Joy returned to Jayce's face like a dog presented with a bone. Viktor propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers as he watched the set.
"Well," began Eris, clearing her throat, "I'm going to proceed as I usually do with my dear inexterminable microbe here and make a simple reading. One card for the past," she rested her fingers on the Ace of Pentacles, “one for the present,” on the Eight of Pentacles, “one for the future,” on the Nine of Cups, “and one card that will give the overall colour to the spread and potentially give us some advice.”
"Okay," Jayce replied, eager to hear what she had to say.
"First of all, we have the Ace of Pentacles. The Ace is used to place us in the field we're going to work in; for this one it's the material field, and this one is fraught with possibilities."
She took the card in her hand and turned to an angle where you could all see the card.
"The divine hand emerging from the clouds reminds us that the material realm, like the others, is a given; it's up to us to do something with it. A garden of lilies is traversed by an alley that passes under an arch, flowered with roses and leading to the mountains. Thought is born of matter and, in any case, you can't rise without the necessary material foundations. As for the pentacle, it's a sign of protection - upright, it's a representation of man with his head, or spirituality and consciousness, at the top and his two feet at the bottom, anchored in the earth. That's the attitude you need if you want to prosper in and with the world."
"Am I in the right inclination?" Asked Jayce.
"Absolutely," reassured Eris. "Now that we know all these elements, how can this help us? Well, the Ace of Pentacles represents a material opportunity, something to be developed in the concrete domain. It's the birth of a new interest or a new energy in the material and financial spheres. Didn't you have a career change last summer or something like that?"
‘’Yes,‘’ Jayce exclaimed, ‘’how do you know?" He turned to you. "Did you talk to her about it?"
"Talked about what?" You said with a shrug. "I'd only told her about the explosion in your flat and my concerns about your trial, that's all."
He seemed to soften at the word "concern".
"In any case," continued Eris, "the Ace of Pentacles often represents a job offer and the possibility of professional advancement. It's synonymous with a new project, and sometimes an influx of money from an unforeseen or unexpected source.���
You thought back to the few bills he had given you without any difficulty so that you could purchase a dress.
"That's incredible," he mumbled, all surprised, "don't you think Vik?"
"Yes," he admitted, "but I'm waiting to see the whole result.’
"Let's move on to the present, the Eight of Pentacles." She put down the Ace to take the next card. "We remain in the realm of the material and following the financial influx that the Ace of Pentacles was able to bring, there is the expression of the free with the eight and the lemniscate for its infinity. We have the talent, the materials, the knowledge and the ability to concentrate, so we can produce without hindrance."
Jayce seemed to be hanging on her every word, while Viktor seemed increasingly interested and methodically observant.
Eris's slender finger traced along the card. ‘The Pentacles are neatly lined up on the fully-covered beam and spill out onto the floor, and the craftsman has so many of them that he doesn't know where to put them. The bench can be seen as a representation of the skills he can rely on. The small village behind could mean that the craftsman can devote himself freely to his work because he knows that the other members of society will provide for his other needs." So she turned to Jayce. "I suppose living here in such a small flat can't be very practical for carrying out your projects, is your apartment still being refurbished?"
Jayce looked at her with wide eyes, turning to Viktor who maintained an inflexible phlegm, but you knew him well enough by now to recognise that he was intrigued by this discussion.
"How do you know that-"
"I don't know anything," smiled Eris, "I just read the cards and follow my intuition which, luckily, is rarely wrong."
"Well, that's just it," Jayce breathed, turning to you, "I got the go-ahead yesterday to move back into the flat."
You straightened. "You're moving out?"
"We're moving out," Viktor corrected.
The news, strangely enough, fell on you like a weight. Your eyes darted back and forth between Viktor and Jayce.
"When are you leaving?" you asked.
"Tomorrow morning," Jayce replied. "We finished packing up a few things today. We were going to come and see you later to tell you the news but," he smiled, "you were already here."
You turned to Viktor, who lowered his eyes. 'Just here to read and chat by the fire,' as he'd said. Why hadn't he just said they wanted to talk to you? Why did he change the subject?
You should have been relieved, to finally be rid of him on a daily basis, but you couldn't.
"What about the future?" asked Jayce as he turned back to the deck. "What's announced?"
You tried to digest the information as quickly as he had, but it was simply impossible. You forced yourself to, letting Eris resume her explanation as your heart seemed to weigh its weight down your throat.
"The Nine of Cups is pure and simple satisfaction. The Nine is the very last single-digit number, so it's an achievement. But the Nine is still an accomplishment in the weakest sense of the word, because it shows us what it's like when you see something through to the end - you don't go beyond anything, you just achieve it and that's all there is to it. For cups, it's 'filling the feeling of lack to the end, to the point of satisfaction’." She pinched the card between her two fingers, twisting it back and forth. "It's wish fulfillment, getting what you want. It's not having to ask anymore, it's one partner always there for the other no matter what, and the other counting on it."
Eris's eyes moved from Viktor to Jayce with a gentle glance.
"And the sun assures us of this with its warm presence. It brings self-confidence, the ability to assert oneself with kindness and to share happiness and the joy of life." She put the card down again, bringing the reading to a close. ‘I don't know what you're working on, but I hope it's something good for the world.’
Jayce exchanged a knowing smile with Viktor, who always returned it with mischief in his eyes.
"Well, that's really surprising!" Jayce exclaimed. "It's so right... I didn't know you could deduce all those things from cards."
"There's nothing random about arcane blades," asserted Eris. She turned to Viktor. "Would you like one too?"
He seemed taken by surprise, parting his lips and lifting his chin with his hands as his eyes moved from Jayce, to Eris, to you.
"I," he cleared his throat, "I don't know if this thing is really for me."
Viktor? Hesitating? that was definitely new.
"What," you chuckled as you turned to him, "scared the cards are going to be bad?"
"I'm not particularly fond of the idea that they could be right and doom me to think that i am doomed." Viktor explained. "What if they are bad?"
"What if they're not?" You suggested with a shrugged smile.
He considered you for a moment. "Haven't you ever regretted one of the readings Miss Eris here made for you?"
You sighed heavily. "It's sometimes painful," you returned Eris's gaze for a moment, she wore an infectious smirk that wasted no time in stretching your own lips to the side, "I have a very distinct one in mind that I deeply disliked. But..." you looked back at Viktor, "the cards were right, and for the better. Believe me."
He remained motionless for a moment, finally nodding.
"Alright," he nodded, turning to Eris who was already shuffling the cards.
She made a perfect line of cards, and Viktor moved his left hand forward to take his first card.
The Ace of Swords.
Viktor drew a second, and you frowned.
The Knight of Pentacles. Your tarot was a real player when it came to pulling out cards apparently.
"Him again," you breathed.
"What do you mean again?" questioned Eris.
"I'll explain some other time."
"And the last one?" Asked Eris as Viktor picked up another card.
Page of Cups.
Having two aces as first cards for both acolytes was interesting.
"Intriguing," admitted Eris as she collected the cards into a single deck to observe the shadow card.
Her eyes landed on you, stunned. You could feel what was about to happen.
"No," you breathed, "not him."
"Yes," confirmed Eris, "him."
Eris then held up the Emperor's card, and you brought your fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose.
"That bad?" Inquired Viktor, surprised.
"No, it's not bad." You laughed to yourself for a moment, turning your gaze to his. "The cards are just very playful, that's all."
Eris set the deck down on the table, the Emperor facing Viktor.
"I suppose you met this Emperor in another reading?" he suggested.
You moistened your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Not just that."
Eris laughed with her nose, catching herself as she straightened up.
"One day," you said to Viktor, "I'll explain the whys and wherefores, don't worry."
He nodded weakly, turning to Eris. He seemed a little nervous, and you were discovering this phenomenon in him. He could be tense, but nervous?
"To begin with, then, the Ace of Swords, like the Ace of Pentacles, is a possibility, a spark that hasn't yet produced anything, but which puts us in the right field. The crown indicates that intelligence is the queen faculty. The palm on the right and the laurel branch on the left are symbols of victory."
Viktor like victory, of course.
"Intelligence is the highest of our faculties, enabling us to rise to the highest heights; it is what makes us a thinking creature. As for the mountains, they represent elevation, the sometimes arid and cold summits of thought. It's a card that represents intelligence and the fact that you can count on it in any situation."
Viktor turned to you, smiling. "You'd rather have that card for yourself than for me, wouldn't you?"
You chuckled. "Maybe once, but now I'm leaving it to you."
He seemed surprised by your answer for a moment, pressing his lips together for a second as he turned back to Eris who was changing cards.
"Now it's the Knight of Pentacles' turn. He represents reliability. He's down to earth, he does what needs to be done without question. This is the card of routine. In terms of symbols, on his helmet and in the horse's ears, there are oak leaves to remind us of what is rooted, powerful and takes time. The soil has furrows in it, so it's about being rooted to the earth, about regular, long, cyclical work like farming, where you have to show stamina and well-applied physical strength.’
"My perfect picture, I am the very definition of athleticism while my colleague Jayce Talis the skinny watches me do my thing in my corner," Viktor joked as he retrieved his cane in hand.
"Don't put the blame on me," interjected Jayce, "I offered to train at least your upper body when you sometimes come with me to the forge."
Viktor rolled his eyes, waiting for the rest of what Eris had to say.
"In any case, the Knight of Pentacles is the definition of moving slowly but surely, with methods that may not be original, but are tried and tested. It's a knight slow to anger who won't take the first step without being reassured of the other's intentions. If there is to be a meeting, it must take time to develop into a solid friendship before it is possible to move on to something more."
Viktor seemed to be playing with his cane, but was listening carefully to what Eris had to say. You remembered the day you read the information on the Knight of Pentacles' card. Physical and sensual. You began to blame the fire in the fireplace for the heat that was rising in your cheeks.
"Now let's move on to our last blade, the Page of Cups." She picked up the card in question. "The Page of Cups discovers, so in the emotional frame of the Cups, he discovers an idea. We welcome new information; we examine a way of thinking or a way of relating facts, of news that affects us."
Again she began to point to the various symbols one by one as you bent to see them better.
"The little fish swimming in the cup, to which the Page gives a sympathetic ear, represents the little voice of intuition, that elusive mystery that lives in our depths and sometimes comes to speak to us. The water lily flowers on his shirt can refer to sleep and the messages of dreams, as well as to the sacred nature of sensitivity that takes root in the depths. On all the cut figures, the water represents the changing and fluid nature of emotions, as well as their depth."
She placed the card on the table. "This is the card of announcement, of wonder, of joy, of something that touches. I should point out that it's still a card that's recognised as being very romantic, but not only that. It's the card of love, but it's also the card of a new friendship, the one that makes you discover that you really care about someone."
You bit the inside of your lips, the heat spreading from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, which you covered with your hand, a ghostly memory of Viktor's breath washing over you.
"At last," Eris grasped the Emperor's card, "the card of stability and anchoring that is the Emperor represents you here."
"Me? The Emperor?" Repeated Viktor, pointing his finger at himself.
"Yes," you said under your breath.
He turned to you for a moment, and you knew full well that when he found the time to discuss it with you, he wouldn't miss the opportunity.
"The Emperor completes the Empress's teaching by introducing the idea of rule, law and structure. Discipline doesn't mean giving in to the first distraction. He is a man who teaches us to take responsibility without deviating, to defend our principles without failing, to be obedient without letting ourselves be influenced. That's where his authority comes from - this lucid examination, it's the foundation that makes us sure, and allows us to act without wavering." She then placed the card back on the deck, closing the reading.
You had a feeling that Viktor wouldn't be the only one thinking about this reading. The cards reflected each other so perfectly it was impressive.
"Any questions?" Eris asked simply as she gathered up the cards and put them back in the box.
"How long have you been practising," Jayce asked, turning to her.
"I'd say... seven years?" She said, turning to you to make sure she was right.
"And a half," you added as she handed you the box of your tarot.
"Is this yours?" Asked Viktor.
"Yes, I draw one every morning to see what the day has in store or for advice," you explained.
Viktor turned to Eris and said, "Where do you practise?"
"In one of the streets on the entresol level."
"Could I have the address?"
She seemed as surprised as you, glancing at you then back to Viktor. "An interest in spirituality?"
He exchanged a look with you. "Now yes."
After giving her shop address to Viktor, he and Jayce excused themselves and left to make sure all the boxes and other luggage were ready for the next day's departure.
You and Eris were back upstairs, you preparing the evening meal while she rushed to the shower to warm up from the absence of the fire she already missed so much.
You couldn't stop thinking about Viktor, about the changes, the ideas swarming around in your mind without ever finding respite or giving you any. You felt that the fact that he would no longer be in the building tomorrow gave you the impression that his absence would force you to think only of him.
But another subject was about to hit you, bitter, fearsome.
Eris stepped out of the shower, droplets of water beading from her hair and running down her tattooed arms. She crossed her arms seriously, pressing her shoulder against the doorframe as she crossed her leg.
"Do you remember my letter, when I mentioned there was something I needed to talk to you about?"
You stirred the forest pan over the stove, not looking away from the task as you expected mere gossip in the rising streets of Zaun. "Mhm?"
She sighed, watching you sternly.
"The child disappearances have started up again."
You froze in your tracks, the sound of the hood and the oil cooking the vegetables fading into a distant blur of sound.
You turned to Eris, almost trying to get her to repeat what she'd just said, as if she'd just resurrected an entire graveyard. "What?"
"Not just in Zaun," she continued, just as austerely, "I've had customers from Piltover. It's starting here too. It's very small and tiny as a disappearance compared to Zaun, but it's still there."
"Are you absolutely sure?" you asked, registering this information almost robotically.
She nodded. "When Renata Glasc came into my shop and I made her reader, she said his name."
You huffed, as if someone had just punched you in the stomach and expelled all the air your lungs held.
"Is the situation under hand?"
"Glasc is on it from what I know."
You huffed with difficulty. "Could you um..." you felt your throat tighten, "could you continue cooking? I'm think I need a shower.
She smiled at you, a thin, empathetic one. "Take all the time you need."
"Thank you," you barely managed to say before moving towards the bathroom and carefully closing the door behind you.
Silently, with hasty movements as if all your clothes were ten times too hot on your skin, you got rid of each layer at record speed and turned on the water.
Your whole body was shaking like a leaf, your breath coming fast as you passed under the hot spray. Your eyes clouded over in a blur of tears, your whole face tensing, your brow furrowing as your nose scrunched up and your lips curled. You drew a huge, rapid, jerky breath, anger and despair contorting every feature of your face until your forehead ached as your hands ran over them as if trying to erase it, to dilute it under the shower water until everything was smooth and clean and you were pure again.
Your back jolted despite the warmth of the water running down your spine, the sobs attacking you as you placed one hand on the wall to keep yourself upright while the second pressed against your mouth to prevent any sound escaping from the prison bars of your fingers.
You only gave yourself a few moments to cry before letting the salt on your cheeks be washed away by the clear water of Piltover and turning off the shower. You didn't want to abuse it, even if all the drops it could have spilled down your body would never have been enough to bring the rain that would wash away the past!
Today had been too full changes, of emotions, of movements and unpredictable things that weighed on your mind like an elephant.
When you got out of the shower, Eris had already prepared the table and served your two plates.
"You know," she said with her mouth full, raising her fork in the air, "it's a bit hard to tell how you and Viktor stand."
You were still relieved at Eris's understanding. She had seen you cry very little over the years, the habit of choosing the excuse of the shower to have a moment when your sensitivity could take over and go beyond the limit of your eyes having come early in your friendship. And when you came back, she always had a different subject to discuss to take your mind off things.
With a tired smile, you took the chair opposite her and sat down.
"What do you mean?"
She took care to chew her mouthful to the end, winding her index finger in the air to ask you to wait. "Well," she finally swallowed, "I saw you staring at each other. I just can't be certain if it was sexual tension or murderous rage."
You let out a small laugh, your eyes still stinging from your tears and wrinkling with admiration for her.
The evening continued on a variety of topics, with countless teases about Viktor, who seemed to be burning a hole in her lip.
And when you both went to bed to find respite, the walk in the cold having knocked Eris out with sleep, yours didn't come. The cards all came back into your head like emblematic figures from a distant story, a fairy tale with final lessons for little children.
You thought of the Empress and the Emperor. You thought of yourself, of Viktor.
The same warm palpitations in your heart and stomach returned as you thought of him. You brought one to the one, the second to the other, like a stethoscope trying to discern any worries or disturbances.
It was warm, sweet, it was a hope that sprang up in your soul and filled you completely.
Did the Empress have a metaphorical womb pregnant with a budding love, ready to grow?
You thought back to Eris's words.
I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others.
Was it the warmth that sprang up deep inside you, like a candle in the darkness of a cavern containing thousands of crystals ready to sparkle, that he brought out?
When morning came, you had given up on the idea of sleeping and sat on your windowsill to watch the sun emerge in the distance.
You had thought for so long in the silence of this room that the inside of your body was a constant echo of thoughts reverberating against the walls of your skin and every corner of your mind. The sun was the first to say hello, and you smiled at it as it caressed your cheek with its warmth.
You'd fought with it so much that it had made your cheeks red. And you wanted to catch him, to hold him close to your chest so that he could feel the warmth of your heart, so much so that the night fell away. And now that you'd got to know the moon thanks to him, you told yourself that you'd just put everything out like a poor cigarette. But we're talking about the moon, and the sun, that's not nothing.
His reality had made the wheat grow, and the truth had made men eat, but reality was coming towards you little by little with a flag, staggering.
Down below, approaching the building in the soft silence of the morning and the waking city, a van pulled up.
The day was here, and you wanted to bury it in a suitcase to let the night stay a little longer, to keep the moonlight on your skin and in the glow of your eyes.
Your gaze turned away from the truck for a moment, back to the dressing room. The coat.
In the greatest of hasty silences, you pulled on a heavy jumper, trotting on tiptoe to the dressing room to pick up the coat that still had his smell on it. You gently turned the key to the apartment, moving from the silence of the bedroom to that of the corridor bathed in half-light.
You hurried down the stairs, praying that the van hadn't left, that they hadn't left, and that you'd be able to say ‘see you soon’.
When you got downstairs, Viktor was standing in front of the entrance, just beyond the door, outside, with his back to you.
You inhaled, trying to hide your miserable gasping breath deep in your chest.
You were moving forward, feeling cold. The coat could have given you that warmth, but you didn't put it on. Your hand came to rest on the handle of the golden door, and you pushed it open despite the trembling you presumed to be due to the fatigue of a sleepless night.
Viktor turned and his eyes fell on you. His expression wasn't wide with surprise, and his eyebrows weren't furrowed, but you could feel a flicker of regret on his face that was swept away as soon as he realised it was you.
The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the stillness of the morning making you both feel as if the whole town would wake up at once if you spoke.
"Hey," you managed to say softly.
He gave a surprised little smile. "Hey."
You breathed in, swallowing as you tried to work out if all the ideas you'd been fed about him wanted to come back through your throat.
"So uh," you jerked your chin towards the van, "you're all set to go ?
Miserable small talk.
Viktor looked at you calmly. ‘The removal man is still inside picking up the rest of the boxes."
"Oh," you nodded, "Jayce isn't with you?"
"He's gone to the flat to settle the last few things that needed his attention."
His eyes never left you, his face a peaceful, unchanged emotion. It feels like a dream, you thought, but it's not, and that's probably the most reassuring thing about it.
You tightened your grip on the coat slightly, and finally let the breath you'd been holding expel itself from your lungs.
"You're fierce as my rival," you admitted, "but I think I prefer you better when you're not."
Viktor remained motionless for a moment, the light breeze in the air combing a few strands of his hair. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, barely rising.
"What good is a truce if we're not rivals anymore, then?" he asked.
"The truce can just turn into a deal," you suggested almost hastily, "a friends' deal."
He smiled at last, and your stomach warmed in the dead of winter.
"Friends," he repeated as if testing the taste the word had in his mouth, "I like the sound of that."
You smiled back, and relief washed over you.
He changed the grip on his cane, straightening up. "Any clauses you want to add to the truce, Miss?"
You couldn't help asking. "Why do you call me Miss all the time?"
His eyes remained serenely in yours, silently letting a moment pass.
"I can't say yet. Someday, maybe," he replied as if he'd just come back from somewhere else.
You nodded. "Alright." You straightened your back and cleared your throat before raising your eyebrows. "I just have one clause then."
"Go on," he nodded, curious.
A satisfied smirk spread across your face. "All your coffees are free if you come by the Brown Bitt, so you better come often with such an offer."
He laughed softly, his eyes dropping to his shoes for a moment before returning to yours.
"I'd be a fool to refuse such a discount."
"Well," you shrugged, "there is some kind of dignity being the first fool of the academy."
"Last time I checked," he said, raising an eyebrow, "you're the first of the Academy."
"Last time I checked with Eris, one and two together make the three of creativity." You smiled. "What did Heimerdinger say again? About us joining our forces for the presentation."
Viktor sighed, starting to recite. "There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class - you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly. None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you."
"Teamwork," you both pronounced, nodding and smiling.
"You remember it so vividly," you grinned, impressed.
He nodded. "Eh, better have a sharp memory and wit to follow with Heimerdinger, if you can't race."
Your lips parted, remembering a little too well the first day we worked together. "Please tell me Jayce never heard of this."
"I recite your words to him every night before sleeping like a prayer," he sneered.
Another moment of silence passed, both your breaths billowing in the air.
"When we'll all be settled," he finally said, "come to the flat."
You clasped your hands together. "Is that a challenge?"
"No," he chuckled, "just an invitation."
‘"As long as you don't organise masquerades in Jayce's apartment every other night, I will."
"Nah," he admitted as the wrinkles in his nose crinkled for a moment, "we keep that outside our explosive apartment."
It was refreshing to be able to listen to Viktor's comments and not find annoyance in them, just laughter.
"Speaking of masquerades," you realised as you handed him his perfectly smooth coat, "I took care of it."
His leather-gloved fingers closed over the dark fabric.
"I'm sure you did," he said, his eyes moving from the fabric to yours.
Behind you, you heard the distinct sound of castors on the floor of the hall, and turned towards the man dragging a trolley with a few boxes piled on it.
"All clean," he warned as he passed you both and began to stack the boxes in the back of the vehicle.
He quickly closed the boot and climbed into the front seat next to the steering wheel.
"See you to the demacia boarding airship?" asked Viktor.
You smiled. "Don't be late."
He gave you one last smile.
"No chance."
✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter
taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt @enoojnij @stilinskisensation @emlovesya @soupsaurus @luvreadingfics @the-valars-sapphire @solbringer @adorabluesposts @pxszels @nerolovesseongjiyuk @cyberwears @cryptidcut @seohaepeachyun @danielsbackupglasses @2hiigh2cry @16novvs @cicadastoner @patchs-cuiosity-corner @w41k3r-94290 @minniiv @roku907 @lumilarity @peachy-writings @disturbyn
#a crown of ink#acoi#viktor x reader#arcane#arcane viktor#viktor arcane#viktor#arcane x reader#viktor arcane x reader#arcane viktor x reader#viktor fanfic#viktor fic#arcane fanfic#viktor x you#arcane viktor x you#viktor arcane x you
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me gusta soñar, me gustas tu
Summary: Timebomb x reader matching things (accessories, clothes, tattoos or etc) because they would like to get married but uh you know (request)
Warnings: no plot, fluff, gn!reader, not proof read
Pairings: Alternate!Powder x reader x Ekko
A/n: since I didn't know if the request was meant for alternate powder or Jinx, I did both. Enjoy!
Alternate! Powder and ekko
I think if they want to get married, but they can't, they'd be the type to have promise rings.
Probably one with either three small gemstones of the colour of each (blue for powder, white or orange for ekko and whatever colour you like) or one with each of your initials engraved (as in EP and your initial)
Powder would probably have it on a chain around her neck, and Ekko either on his finger or in a chain too. Under his shirt probably, to not damage it or lose it.
You're just sipping on your drink, waiting for your two partners in one of the tables of the Last Drop. It's a lazy day, slow, sunny, nothing you wouldn't like to go out in. Vander is cleaning glasses when he notices the ring.
"What's that? Getting married already?" He teases, watching Powder and Ekko come in, light catching on the silver around Powder's necks. It isn't until Ekko puts his hand on the counter that he notices the gems on his finger. "Matching rings hm? Get engaged already" He teases again, serving them their drinks.
Benzo has about the same reaction when he walks in, a playful scowl on his face. "You're too young to be thinking about marriage" He scolds, not so playfully. But you all don't care, simply happy to have matching rings.
Then there's more permanent stuff, for example tattoos
I'd see ekko being a clock, and powder either a raven or some gears. Or then you could have the moon (powder) the sun (ekko) and the stars (you). Anything that is symbolic. The three of you would have the same tattoo with the three symbols.
I don't think they would outright tattoo their partners names on their skin, it feels too... impersonal in a way. Or maybe just not like them.
You were all lounging in Powder's hideout, thinking, talking. "What about tattoos?" You proposed, and immediately ekko started doodling.
"Yeah, maybe we could do like... I don't know, birds?" He chuckled, making various different designs.
When you finally picked your designs, you went to a tattoo artist, giving him a few days to create the stencil. In the end, Ekko chose to have his on his shoulder, and powder on her calf, the three of you showing it off once it was all done.
To be honest, it's probable all of your parents were quite sceptic about the tattoos. But once it was done, it was too expensive to get it off. So no one could do anything else than warn you it might not be a good idea.
It was. You kept it forever.
If they feel more like matching things casually, then there's three options
For clothes they'd probably go off a colour, for dates, for example, today everyone goes with a red item, like a jacket, a dress, etc.
Or maybe color coding, like, everyone wears a red top and a blue bottom.
Or maybe simply pattern matching. Something like that.
"I think we should do blue" Powder argued.
"But I want to wear my red jacket!" You complained. Ekko just laughed at your antics.
"But red doesn't go with my hair" she argued.
"It does, stop being a bitch." You muttered, shoving your red hoodie at her, slipping on your red jacket.
"You're finished?" Ekko mused, red coat already slipped on. "Were going to be late"
Powder pouted, nodding as you tugged her out, on your way to meeting with all of your friends. Everyone stared at the laughing couple you were, but how could you care when your girlfriend was snickering along with your boyfriend?
You could also match a piece of jewellery you would wear every day, so for example some earrings, a bracelet, a necklace, maybe everyone a different one but theme coded.
So let's say you do earrings, powder would be blue, ekko gold. So, you could be wearing sapphire gold earring, or a gold necklace and a blue gemstone.
More than everyone wearing the same piece of jewelry, they'd do like a theme and each wears their partner's theme. So ekko could be wearing a blue earring and a ring with your theme.
Or it vould be a charm more than a colour.
Everyone noticed it, from night to day, all of you had changed the usual jewelry you wore, ekko's plain silver earings had now each a small charm, different. Powder's necklace had, added to the crystal it used to have, two more charms with it. And you wore the same, well, not excatly, they had one you didn't, and you had one each didn't have.
And finally, the third idea I'd have would be key chains or trinkets. Something that reminds you of your two partners. Maybe custom stickers, or a key chain that says E and P, etc
You could have a phone cord made by powder with blue and golden pearls or maybe gears and clock charms, or a special key chain.
And they'd have the same. Of course, you add whatever feels like you to it. So let's say, you're red and roses, you would each make a phone cord or key chain (depending on preference) with blue pearls, mechanical charms, red pearls, rose charms and golden pearls and clock or clockwork charms.
"Wait- put more blue ones" Powded shoved more pearls towards you, your key chain having a majority of gold and your color. "Please" She pouted.
You willingly agreed, chuckling as she shoved the same pearls towards Ekko. "You too, there's almost none" she complained, like a child. Even if the majority of Ekko's was of both of your colours, barely having gold.
"Powder, we're going to end up with all blue ones" He chuckled, amused at her antics.
"Well that's good, everyone needs to known you're my partners." She scoffed, tugging you closer to her.
You ended up with an almost all blue key chain with mostly charms for Ekko and barely anything for you. Not that you were complaining. Now you had both your partners always in your pocket.
You could also wear matching nails, I feel like Ekko would love to paint his nails. Maybe a colour for each partner or the same colour for everyone. Although that feels less like their chaotic energy.
You held Ekko's hands, painting his nails, one blue, one gold, one of your color, another gold and another blue. Powder was besides you, shaking her hands to make them dry faster.
Soft music played in the background, humming along with it. Your nails had been painted by Powder and hers had been painted by Ekko.
"Do you like it?" You asked softly, examination his hands for any flaws in your paint. "It's cute" you hummed.
"I love it. It's really pretty" He chuckled, taking your hand and kissing it. "Like you" he winked.
"You're gonna mess up your nails" You complained, showing them off to powder. "Look, they're gorgeous"
"Like you" she hummed, grinning. They both stared so much you couldn't help but blush.
Jinx and ekko
If we're talking about Jinx, she would probably go the extra mile and get something more than rings, who knows how far that woman would go
If you're not much the extra type, she would do rings, and so would Ekko. Just like alternate timebomb, they would have something matching in the rings
Maybe three stones again, golden, blue and your colour, or maybe more like your three names together, but jinx would probably put yours in the middle
Ekko would just be the type to follow her ideas, as she's a wild card but in the good way. And she's dedicated
"And I mean, worst that can happen is that we have to make it ourselves" she joked, already picking scrap metal. She was going to make it herself, no matter what you would argue.
And then, a few days later, you would have each a ring around your neck, on a chain. Vi would ask her about it, and the firelight's children would definitely ask Ekko. But they would keep it to themselves, just happy to know they have their partners around their neck.
If we're talking tattoos, Jinx would get the biggest tattoo ever for you and Ekko, wherever you ask her to. Ekko would probably get it somewhere more discreet, he doesn't seem like the type to get visible tattoos, it's more something for you and her
The design would be way more attention calling, you could do birds, a raven, an owl and a bird for you, or symbols, her monkey, ekkos clock or gears and whatever you feel like fits you.
Jinx would totally tattoo your name if you ask her to, but ekko would probably tell her it's not the best idea, especially since she is still a criminal and the three of you are often in danger. Giving directly your partners' names isn't the best idea.
She showed up a few days after choosing the design, showing her back and moving her braids aside. "Look toots, I got the tatto" she giggled, showing off a monkey, a clock and your symbol. "It's about time yall get yours" she pouted.
Ekko shook his head, smiling. At least he had managed to convince her to not get your name. She went towards him, throwing herself on his shoulders. "Whatcha mocking me about hm?" She scolded playfully, glancing at your soft smile.
For casual matching, or date matching, jinx isn't the type to own a lot of different clothes, so she would probably add something symbolic of you to her outfit, like, let's say, a clock for ekko (I'm obsessed with the idea of clocks representing ekko) that she would wear every day
Ekko would do the same if you're up for it.
But if we're talking proper clothes matching, Jinx would just steal something, either from you or from piltover. She would do anything to make you and Ekko happy, your wish is her comand. And Ekko would just follow the vibe, he seems like the more passive type for some reason
If we're talking jewelry, Jinx would love to wear matching jewellery for you. Whether it's the same necklace, or a similar one, she says yes immediately.
Ekko might be a bit more difficult, but he would take an alternative. He would never outright refuse to match with you, how could he?
So for example, you could buy a matching set of earrings, necklace and bracelet, or something like that and they would each take one (jixn the necklace, ekko the earrings probably)
"Hey look what I found" you smiled, showing them three pairs of earring, one with a white crystal, one blue and one of your colour.
Jinx immediately threw herself to you, catching the earrings and gushing about them to Ekko. She took one of her colour, helping ekko put it on and begging you to let her. If you didn't have your ears pierced, you better have them pierced now.
Finally we have key chains. Well, I don't think any of them would be the key chain type so they'd probably do more like... charms that they put on their clothes and belts
Maybe something Jinx and Ekko would make for you, or that you make with them. Small trinkets you'd stick on your stuff
Ekko finally finished sculpting the same monkeys that were on his machine. He added a small key ring on top, putting it besides the other two. He just had to make the three clocks now and they would be done. Jinx would love to add the chains He thought.
"Almost done pretty boy?" You kissed his cheek. It was late, you should both be asleep. Jinx was already snoring on the couch, Isha laying in her arms.
"Almost. Go rest, I'll join you later" he murmured back, hugging you and tugging you on his lap. Maybe you should sleep in his arms, while he works.
And nails, jinx would love to do your nails like hers and also ekkos if he let's her. Just imagine, jinx seeing you wear her colours, I think she would be so happy and proud.
If not maybe Ekko would help you do your nails and you'd do his the same way, and you'd beg Jinx to let you do hers too.
I think that would be cute, that the three of you do each other nails, and make matching little designs and stuff
She was giggling like a school girl, painting your nails the same colour as hers. Your back was against Ekko's chest, his legs on either side of you, his arms around you.
As soon as Jinx finished painting all of your nails you pulled her in, wrapping your legs and arms around her, pressing her back against your chest. And that's how you spent the rest of the evening, all cuddled up.
Something else Jinx would love to match would be stuff in your hair. If you have it long enough to braid, she's sticking stuff into yours and Ekkos hair before you even know about it
Maybe just the same golden stuff she has or maybe actual little trinkets and charms that she made or found
"Your hair is so pretty you know that?" She murmured, braiding your hair, adding the same golden charms she had added into her hair and into Ekko's. "So soft, so shiny, how do you do it?" She pouted a bit.
Ekko watched her with a smile, adding the same charms to her own braids.
A/n: my phone hates me and I think this isn't the right version. But have it anyways because I will not proof read this. I'm sleep deprived and I have to sleep. I hope you like it ;)
Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, all rights reserved.
#Spotify#ekko x reader#jinx x reader#powder x reader#jinx x ekko x reader#timebomb x reader#alternate timebomb x reader#chaos writes
322 notes
·
View notes
Text
Green is the colour of jealousy
Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley
Requested by @maxsisly
Request gist: Fred and George get jealous because the reader is spending more time with her male friend. She comes home late one night and they’re mad. Pure smut and a bit of fluff.
A/N: Thank you for the request! Once again, I am truly sorry for not seeing it sooner. It was in the inbox section in the settings (which I never check). This took me a while and I really got sidetracked and rambled on some points. But no matter, it's ready and written.
T/W: Unprotected sex, Jealous and possessive twins, Degradation, Double penetration, Clit spanking, Aftercare
The twins had always learned to share.
Growing up in the Weasley clan meant handing down clothes and toys from the brothers who came before. So when the twins were born, they only had one of everything instead of one each. So they became pretty good at sharing.
Even after the twins met you, they shared. They both loved you and they knew that you loved them both. They had spent their whole life sharing, from toys to partners alike.
But that didn't mean they liked sharing with other people.
Over the past couple of weeks, your friend had been around more often. He was there when the twins finished work, he was on the phone to you during your spare time, he even seemed to be around when you went out on the town. He seemed to be everywhere.
You and Matthew had been friends since your first official job after Hogwarts so he had always been a constant in your life. He knew you were dating twins and supported you wholeheartedly, something you found refreshing since others looked at you oddly. He knew the twins and was a regular in the shop, so the twins somewhat knew him. Although at first, the twins thought he was a regular because you worked there.
The twins trusted you without a doubt. They knew you’d never sneak around with some other guy. It was this new guy they didn't trust. But when you came in one night and told them that you were planning on hitting the clubs with said guy, they put on fake smiles and told you to be safe.
Hours went by and yet you still did not return. The twins started feeling uneasy. This guy had to have been doing something? What if he took you back to his place? What if he was having his fun with you? What if…
The door unlocking caught the attention of the twins. You came in, looking just as you did when you left. No hair was out of place, no makeup smudges. You looked perfect and most importantly, you looked untouched.
But they wouldn't take any chances.
The way the twins were sat was like two mafia bosses waiting for a meeting. They even flicked the light on when you walked in. The way they stared you down was like a predator waiting to pounce. Fred was the first to speak up.
“You’re finally home, love. What took you so long?”
“Well, me and Matthew were at that club. We didn’t think we were there that long until we left”
Both of the twins tensed at Matthews name, as if a sour taste lingered on their tongues from your words. George got up and stalked towards you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist in a surprisingly tender touch despite the situation.
“You’ve been spending so much time with him, baby. Maybe it's time you spent a little time with us. You won't be thinking about Matthew once we’re done”
He moved quicker than you, pulling you to the bedroom with Fred trailing behind you both. Your hands were itching to remove your dress, to pull off your underwear and show your boyfriends what they wanted to see. You knew that the twins were jealous, it was as plain as the nose on their faces. But sometimes stirring the pot led to sex that was too good to pass up.
Fred tugged your dress up, bunching it around your hips while George kneeled before you and pushed your underwear to the side. He didn’t touch you, he just stared at you soaked folds.
“Did Matthew make you this wet? Were you giving him those cute little ‘fuck me’ eyes? Have you been a whore all night”
Fred’s hand moved from your rumpled dress and up your sternum, keeping you pressed against his chest. His lips ghosted across your ear.
“Answer Georgies question, slut”
You had to resist the urge to rub your thighs together, to give your clit the friction and attention that you’d been craving from them. And to get that attention, you’d have to bend to their will.
“S’not for Matthew, it's for you. I don’t want him. I need you guys”.
Fred and George shared a look, as if asking one another how long to prolong your suffering for. They could edge you all night if they pleased, or they could overstimulate you until you were nothing but a crying mess. Fred was the one who decided your fate.
“You need us? Prove it and take it”
Fred pulled you to the bed where he laid down first and tugged you by the hand to lay on him, your back to his chest. Your underwear was pushed down your legs just enough to grant the twins access. George could tell what Freds plan was, as always. That's why he got the bottle of lube from the nightstand.
You caught wind of their plan when you felt the familiar cold gel on your tight hole, making you squirm. Freds hands on your hips put a stop to that. His hands slid down under you and the familiar sounds of a belt buckle rattling and a zipper filled your ears. Fred pushed the tip of his cock against the ring of muscle, not stopping until it gave way and his tip was inside. George stroked your cheek, noticing the small twitch in your features from the slight pain that followed.
Fred kept pushing, stretching your hole around his shaft until he bottomed out. Tears gathered in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks, leaving a black trail from your mascara. George took a step back, admiring the sight of his brother's cock stretching your tightest hole. Freds arms stayed around your torso, pinning you against him.
George unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock out before taking his rightful place between your thighs. He tapped the head of his cock on your clit, making your shudder and whine. He could see how each tap made your hole clench and it only made him chuckle.
“You like it, love? Can see how you’re squeezing Freddies cock. Maybe next time you need punishing, I’ll spank that sensitive little clit till you’re soaking wet”
When he started pushing inside, you already felt stuffed. Your mind numbed into a blissful state where only the pleasure they were giving you mattered. The twins bottomed out, enjoying how tight you felt. Fred’s hands moved back to your hips, moving you and down for their pleasure. All you could do was lie there and let them use you.
In that moment, you became a toy for their pleasure. You took everything they gave you without complaining.
The twins thrusts got quicker and sloppier the closer they got. Their need to cum overtaking everything else. Their cocks seemed to pulse and swell before they came, making it feel like you were being stretched further. Freds arms tightened around you while George gripped your hips, leaving bruises identical to his hand prints. Fred panted in your ear.
“You wanna be full, baby? Ask nicely and we’ll cum inside you. And if you cum before us, Georgie might just make good on his promise to spank your pretty pussy”
A whine slipped from your lips and your eyes darted up to Georges. Your expression turned to one of need and a begging pout.
“Please Georgie, Freddie. I want you both, I need it. Please cum inside me. I want only you two”.
That admission of your submission to only them was all it took. Your pretty begging was such an ego boost. Their cum spilled from their cocks, painting your walls and leaving their mark inside of you. But they wouldn't leave you unsatisfied for long.
Fred trailed his hand between your thighs, finding your clit between your folds and giving it a harsh spank. A squeal escapes your lips and your legs jolt, trying to close around George's hips. Freds spanks remain harsh and insistent. Like he’s trying to make you cum from this alone…which you do.
Your body shudders as your orgasm floods your body, slick gushing from your hole. The twins held you steady, Fred spanks turning to circles to work you through your orgasm until that pleasure bordered on oversensitive pain.
George slowly pulled out before making his way to the bathroom, leaving you in Freddies arms. Freds hands stroked your skin, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your head. He slowly sat you both up and pulled his cock slowly from your hole, admiring the way it stayed stretched and the way his seed slowly started to leak out.
When he heard George's voice, he picked you up gently in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, where George had run a hot bath filled with bubbles for you. Rough sex may have been the twins forte, but aftercare was one of their favourite aspects of said rough sex. They got to look after you, comfort you, and give you all the kisses and cuddles your fucked out little brain could ever need.
Fred helped you to remove the last of your clothing before gently lowering you into the bath, but not before pressing a chaste but tender kiss to your forehead. The way they looked at you was like admiration. As if they were admiring the Mona Lisa or a statue of Aphrodite. They looked at you as if you were the most beautiful and precious thing on this earth.
Because to them, you were.
#george weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley x fem#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x you#fred weasley#george weasley smut#fred weasley smut#george wealsey x reader#george weasley headcanon#fred weasley fic#weasley twins#weasley twins smut#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred weasely x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley headcanons#george weasely smut#george weasly x reader
722 notes
·
View notes
Note
🔴 with Webber!reader x Jenson x Sebastian.
Living with your brother had it's perks, him living in a penthouse and all.
But it had it's downsides too. Like when you had to sneak your hookups out without him knowing. It didn't help that they were his friends and colleagues.
To be honest it was only a matter of time before he caught you.
Warnings: disgusting smut, crying, dacryphilia, sub reader, sub sebastian, dom jenson (hear me out), overstimulation, forced sex?, use of the colour system, PinV sex, Oral, cum, facials you know the drill, Jenson being mean af
requested from my prompt list
He finally caught you the day after his win in Monaco 2012.
He'd gone out partying all night so you had the place to yourself and you decided to invite a couple of friends over.
Those friends happened to be Sebastian Vettel and Jenson Button. No biggie.
They both knew about your situationship with the other, and you didn't get to see them that often, so you had planned that while they were both in Monaco you'd have a bit of fun with them both.
And it's not like they didn't mess around on their own either.
Sebastian arrived first, having rushed through his duties in his impatience to join you.
Before you'd even shut the door he had you up against the wall, whispering about all the things he wanted to do to you, feeling frustrated after your brother ‘stole his win’ (his words not mine).
Fucking his biggest rival's little sister was certainly a great way to let out his frustration, and you were happy to take everything he had to give.
He undressed you slowly, making sure to tease you as much as possible while he peeled your clothes off your body.
He was halfway through getting you to your second orgasm using his fingers, when Jenson barged in.
The bastard didn't even knock, he just opened the door, gasped in fake surprise at the sight of you getting ravaged on the couch and closed the door behind him.
“God, look at the state of you two, couldn't even wait for me” he tutted as he prowled towards you like a predator.
Seb hadn't stopped his ministrations and you were currently hurtling towards your peak. Jenson chuckled at you barely being able to keep your eyes open with the pleasure.
“Aw babygirl are you going to come on Seb's fingers?”
You nodded as the pleasure overcame you and you clamped down on Seb's fingers as you rode your high.
Once you had finished, Jenson dragged him away from your weeping cunt and sat him on the couch next to you.
“Let's give her a break and take care of this mess, hmm?”
Seb gasped as Jenson lowered his head and licked up the underside of his leaking cock.
He wasted no time sinking down completely, making Seb choke on his spit.
You had no idea Jenson was so proficient at blowjobs, but the sight of him swallowing around Seb's cock really did something to you.
“Fuck Jenson-” Seb moaned “don't stop”
Jenson pulled off for a second to answer “Don't worry baby, I'm not going to stop until you're crying”
Seb whimpered and Jenson sank back down to the base, deepthroating him expertly.
It took Seb an embarrasingly short amount of time to come after that, and he pulled Jenson off him by the hair.
Jenson himself was flushed but he sat up and looked at the two of you mischievously.
“Now then, given that you two brats decided to be greedy and start without me, you're going to fuck, and I'm going to watch. And if you stop before I say so, I will tie you both up and tease you all night and leave you here for Mark to find, understood?”
You and Seb looked at each other with a twinkle in your eyes.
“Yes Daddy”
You were just goading him at this point, you knew it would drive Jenson mad, and it did. He groaned and rubbed his face.
“Right, come on then.” He sighed, slapping your thigh “Any position you want, get to it.”
You decided to ride Seb, and it was wonderful. He was so thick, grazing all the right places inside you, that this didn't feel like much of a punishment at all.
You came for the third time just as you thighs were starting to burn from the effort, so as you came down, Seb pulled out and you changed position, now laying on the couch with Seb above you as Jenson watched on.
Seb fucked you hard immediately, slightly overstimulating you, and his hands wandered over your flesh, squeezing and pinching as they went.
The real punishment started when Seb came inside you and stopped his thrusts to pull out gently.
“Ah ah! What do you think you're doing?” Jenson said, looking up from his phone “keep fucking her Seb”
You both froze.
“But-“ Seb started but Jenson interrupted him
“This is your punishment for being impatient little fuckers, so get back inside her while you're still hard and take it like a man”
Seb blushed and reluctantly pushed back into you.
You were both so sensitive it sent shocks through your systems.
“Fuck” Seb muttered as he put some of his weight on you in favour of grinding his hips into yours.
“Feel so fucking good around me schatz”
You whined “It's too much Jense, m'gonna come”
Jenson just laughed.
“Is it too much or are you going to come baby? It can't be both”
Jenson talking down at you shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but you were clenching around Seb as you got closer to another orgasm.
“Gonna come” you gasped out.
“Then come baby, I'm not stopping you”
And you did, your fourth orgasm washed over you but Seb kept going as per Jenson's instructions and he himself came again not long after that.
Jenson sensed he was going to pull out so he grabbed Seb's hips and pushed him flush with you.
“Don't you dare pull out, Sebby. Keep going. It's what you get for being greedy little sluts”
He guided Sebs hips back and forth, using Seb to fuck you, not giving his dick time to get soft again as you both felt tears of overstimulation cloud your vision.
“Can't Jenson” Seb gasped, he was shaking like a leaf “It's too much, I can't keep going”
You shared the sentiment, you weren't sure you'd be able to come again, the pleasure bordering on pain.
Jenson pushed on Seb's hips particularly hard and he let out a sob into the crook of your neck.
“Yes you can” Jenson said tenderly “I know you can, Sebby”
Seb let out a wanton moan and Jenson asked “Colour?”
Seb's shaky voice replied, muffled by your skin “green”.
Jenson looked at your tear stained cheeks and you also gasped out ‘green’.
“There you go, you can both give me one more then”
Seb's hips slapped into yours with renewed vigour, he was determined to see this to the end, his impressive stamina coming in handy in this situation.
Jenson decided to help you along and give you a hand, literally.
One of his hands went to Seb's hair, yanking his head back and licking into his mouth as he panted like an animal, and the other slithered down you body and started rubbing circles onto your clit.
The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you and you found yourself right on the edge again, and the pleasure was too much for you as you sobbed your way through your orgasm.
Seb’s hyper sensitive cock didn't survive you clamping down on him and he also came with a wretched sound, muffled by Jenson's mouth on his.
Jenson helped Seb to pull out carefully, and he slumped down to a kneeling position on the floor.
He instructed you to do the same and got his painfully hard cock out of his pants to finally get the relief he'd been denying himself.
The sight of you and Seb on your knees for him, his two favourite brats, tears staining your cheeks, eyes wet and lips puffy, was enough to get him off in record time as he groaned out a curse and spurted streaks of white over both of your faces.
“My perfect whores, fuck- so good for me, you did so well”
He stroked your heads as he waited for his head to stop spinning.
You all got washed up and went to bed very late, after a nice (takeaway) meal and a couple of drinks to wind down.
The next morning you woke up with Seb, Jenson being a heavy (and late!!) sleeper, and decided to get up and get some breakfast.
What you didn't expect was for Mark to be in the living room, holding your discarded clothes and a Redbull shirt.
You froze in the doorway and you stared at each other, your eyes full of fear and his full of anger.
“So you're sleeping with a Redbull driver, huh?” he cocked his head “Last I heard, there's only two of those. And it's definitely not me. So tell me, who is in your room right now?”
“Well I should hope you're not sleeping with your own sister” Seb's voice resounded from behind you, and you cursed the man internally.
“Ah! Nice of you to join us, Seb! What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?” Mark's eyes flashed with anger.
Seb just chuckled and wrapped an arm around you “I was invited by your lovely sister, do you want a play by play of everything we did on your couch?”
Mark's eyes widened and he looked at the couch with disgust.
“Also that is my shirt you're holding, so I will let you make your own conclusions”
He walked towards a livid looking Mark and ripped his own shirt from his grasp, before going to sit down in the kitchen.
“You coming schatz? I thought you wanted to make breakfast?” he called from the other room.
You gave an apologetic look to your brother before following Seb's path.
Mark took a second to regain his composure before doing the same.
“How long has this been going on?”
You sighed, of course now he was going to be nosy.
“A few months… maybe a year”
Mark would have been outraged except… he just frowned, he definitely heard you with someone a few weeks ago, and it definitely wasn't Seb.
In fact he was pretty sure he recognised the accent he’d heard through the wall.
“But what about…” he looked at Seb quickly before deciding he actually didn't care about possibly hurting his feelings and blurted out “Jenson!”
You stared at him blankly. “What about Jenson?”
He narrowed his eyes at you “Well I know you fucked him… recently”
“And why would you think I'm fucking Jenson?”
And because your luck always ran out at the very worst of times, Jenson himself strutted through the door, shirtless, and sporting a smug grin.
“Someone mention my name?”
He walked towards you, pecked you on the cheek and sat down on the other side of Sebastian.
Marks eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his skull, and you could see the cogs turning in his mind.
“You… you're fucking BOTH OF THEM?!”
You could barely contain your smirk as you answered.
“Yeah? This is what the young people are doing these days, Mark. You should give it a go, it might help you unwind!”
He didn't even dignify that with a response, turning on his heel and stomping out of the room.
You, Seb and Jenson looked at each other and burst out laughing.
You were definitely inviting them over more often.
#my thots#sebastian thots#jenson thots#sebastian vettel smut#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#jenson button#jenson button x reader#jenson button smut#f1#formula 1#ask#request
452 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nik Michaels
Klaus had been going back to the same little art shop for weeks now. His studio at home was stacked with paints but it didn't stop him going back at least once every few days.
The little bell chimed gently above the door as he stepped inside the cozy room. The scent of lavender floated through the room whilst the soft hum of music drifted past the selection of canvases and shelves.
His eyes immediately searched for her familiar face.
Y/N was handing a customer their receipt along with a beautifully decorated paper bag which contained whatever supplies they had bought. He moved out the buyers way when they headed for the door and took their place at the till.
"Hi Nik." She greeted, a smile on her face which he couldn't help but mirror.
"Busy day, sweetheart?" He asked as that damned bell rang again and a fellow artist made their way inside.
"Always busy in New Orleans!" She chirped, her eyes bright and keen as she waved at the other woman in the shop.
Klaus hummed faintly and tapped his fingers gently against the wood that stood between them. He waited relatively patiently for her to serve the woman before waiting for her attention again.
She turned back to him and gave him a cute little head tilt. "You can't possibly need more paint?" She laughed, the sound ran right along his spine and he felt his hairs stand on edge.
"Well paints aren't all you sell now are they, love?" He grinned and she shook her head.
"Pick whatever you like." She told him, gesturing to the contents of her shop making him push that little pout to his face.
"You aren't going to come out from behind there and help?" He questioned, tone playful. Her cheeks went an adorable shade of pink as she pushed the pointless gate that separated her and her customers to come over to his side.
Klaus smiled as she came over to him. He loved when he got to be so close. She was the kindest, most gentle hearted person he had ever met.
His eyes took in the soft, beautiful features of her face before trailing downwards. Her dress was a soft shade of blue in colour, one of his favourites. The bodice was fitted perfectly, the built in cups showing the perfect shape of each of her breasts before the aline skirt hid the rest of her curves. He glanced to the comfortable but never less than pretty flats that adorned her feet. Klaus loved that she never wore heels, kept her small and dainty.
Klaus was certain that even without his superhuman strength, it would be easy to pick her up, spin her around, lift her up, catch her, anything.
His eyes snapped back up to hers, taking in the way her irises swirled with colour. Suddenly the realisation dawned on him that her soft lips were moving, he tuned back into the conversation.
"Canvases? Or do you want something else like uh the dream catchers and things? I know you don't usually but there are some more...masculine ones you could have..." She offered, eyes darting round the room as she spoke about different things and thought of anything else she could offer him. "I have candles and incense? Uh...evil eyes? Some things to bring luck and stuff? You don't seem like a crystal guy..." She murmured, thinking aloud and he couldn't help but feel a little amused.
"Not particularly, but for you sweetheart I could be." He smirked and Y/N looked down with a smile.
"What did you come in for Nik?" She asked and he clicked his tongue.
"Well.." He muttered, his expression never dulling. "I came in hoping for a date...perhaps you have a spare evening this week?" Klaus proposed, his eyes wondering over her again without meaning to.
Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, it wasn't the first time he had asked for a date; in fact he asked pretty much every single time he walked in there.
"Nik-" She sighed softly and he huffed.
"Oh come on sweetheart! Just one dinner, one glass of wine...one kiss...one touch...one-"
"Nik!" She scolded and he groaned unseriously.
"Y/N..." He borderline whined and she giggled. "I'll buy every last brush in this store. Every last tube of paint, every sheet of paper, everything for one evening where you're mine and mine alone."
"If you buy everything it'll take me forever to restock." She shrugged and he swallowed down the little growl that his wolf produced.
"Then I'll spend all week helping you stack the shelves," He grinned and looked down at her, wanting nothing more than to grab her perfect little face and kiss that teasing smile right off her face. "I'll have to lift you up to help you reach those high shelves. Do tell me love, how did you get those up their?" Klaus asked as he eyed the beginners painting gift sets that rest far to high up for her adorable height to reach.
"Hm? Oh. My ex put them up there...they're just display ones, thats why people ask for them and I get some from out back." She explained and his light mood lowered.
"When was this ex last around?" He questioned, desperately trying to sound casual however it was anything but.
"Oh he doesn't come around here anymore." She told him simply but there was an underlying tone to her words.
"Did you end on good terms?" Klaus asked, curiosity obvious but also his concern.
"Uh...sure...you know, all breakups are messy." She mumbled, her attention on a little feather that dangled from a dream catcher she was fiddling with.
Klaus nodded silently, understanding that the topic needed to be dropped for the time being. He cleared his throat and picked the decoration from her hand.
"I like this one." He decided, whether it was because it was pretty or because she had touched it was unclear.
"You sure?" She checked, that smile on her face always contagious and it made him nod.
"Definitely."
"I'll bag it up for you" She told him, taking the dream catcher back and going back behind to the till. Klaus leaned against it, gazing at her as she picked a bag out for him. Each paper back was hand painted by her to be unique, there must have been hundreds ready and he couldn't help but wonder how much time she spent each week preparing them all. His eyes watched her hands wrap the item in a couple layers of tissue paper before gently placing it in the bag and placing it up in front of him. "Cash or card?" she asked, eyes back on his.
"Cash" He answered automatically, pulling out a fifty and she shook her head.
"Nik, no. No more big tips." She told him, borderline whined and he grinned.
"Oh love, you deserve the tips. Think of it as me paying for the bag." He offered a solution and she huffed.
"The dream catcher is $5. The paper bag is not worth $45." She argued and he shook his head.
"The bags are as beautiful as the item. And the dream catcher is worth more than $5" He countered and she sighed softly to herself as she reluctantly took the money from his fingers. "So...about that date" He brought up and she shot him a playful glare.
"I'm...very busy." She muttered and he hummed, clearly unconvinced.
"Perhaps you could schedule me in for next week then? Morning, afternoon, evening, middle of the night, it doesn't matter." He listed, becoming all the more eager, bordering on desperate.
"I'm just not ready for a relationship at the moment Nik and I don't think I could go on one date with you without wanting another." She sighed and he softened.
"Alright" He whispered with a nod. "I understand that..." He paused for a moment as he took the bag. "I can wait." He shrugged and her brows furrowed slightly.
"Wait?" She questioned and he nodded.
"I'm a patient man, I can wait for you to be ready." He told her and he meant it.
Y/N was human. She didn't know who or what he was. He wasn't Klaus Mikaelson the crazed hybrid, disgrace to the wolves and tyrant to the vampires, father to the tribrid and son to the original witch. He was just Nik, an artist. So simple yet it allowed him to be so much more. A man instead of a monster.
It was nice having Y/N's attention, she didn't have any twisted intentions. No ulterior motives, she wasn't evil or calculated, she was just kind and genuine.
"I'll still be coming here every week for paints and what not, then when you're ready I'll take you somewhere fancy." He winked and she laughed softly.
"I'll see you in a few days." She told him as he stepped back toward the door.
"I'll see you soon sweetheart."
And obviously he did. He came back all the time. Often giving her little paintings he had made with things from her shop. They could be seen hanging up in the back. Y/N lived in the apartment above her shop and almost never left the building, she had no need to unless she needed to go shopping. She went out for her weekly visit to town on Monday as it was the only day her art job closed. Klaus would almost always be roaming around the supermarket, waiting for her to show up so he could help pick out her dinners for the week and carry her bags home for her whilst she scolded him for trying to pay for her groceries.
Back home his family never knew where Klaus was going so often. All he said on a Monday morning was that he'd be back later to Hope and then would be gone for hours.
Never would any of them have thought he would be pushing a trolley round each aisle or juggling cartons round a shop.
Once he helped her get everything inside he would carry the bags up the steep steps leading from the back of her store but he never went into her apartment. She hadn't ever invited him in. He would just pass her bags over the threshold whilst she spoke to him from her kitchen as she put things away. When she came back out he would help her organise out back and sometimes he got to decorate the paper bags with her, swirling beautiful patterns and scenes across the material.
He'd only leave when it got dark and she became hungry, not without offering to take her out of course. Inevitably Klaus would go home in a strangely good mood, taking Hope to bed and reading her a story before going to his own room with only one thing or person on his mind.
Hayley, Rebekah and Freya would all hold the same look, knowing that Klaus was in over his head. Elijah would shake his head every time at their childish giggles and tell them to leave Niklaus alone, not that Klaus seemed the slightest bit aware. He was sure that he was very discreet about his visits.
But they all would get nosey each time he came down the stairs, skip in his usually dull step, a smile on his usually grumpy face. The girls would start to whisper and even Marcel would crack a joke every now and then. Klaus however, remained oblivious.
He hung around Y/N like a love-stuck puppy, bringing flowers and sketches for her to enjoy. But one day when he walked in, the little bell didn't ring.
A frown settled upon his face as he noticed the item on the ground. "Y/N?" He called, picking up the bell and walking further in. He heard a crash from out back and immediately pushed past the gate. Y/N was yelling incoherently, crying and backing away from a very rageful man.
A switch flicked in Klaus's mind.
Y/N sat in the corner of the room, face in her knees and hands over her ears whilst Klaus mercilessly beat the man until he couldn't blubber a word. The guy was dragged out into the alley round the back of the building, propped up by the bin and told that should he try to move, Klaus would pick him apart limb by limb.
Klaus went back to Y/N, his hands bloody so he wiped them on his shirt before taking her face into his hold only to see light bruising starting to form across the top of her cheek. His arms moved to pick her up, carrying her upstairs.
"I need you to invite me in, love." He told her, ignoring her confusion and making her say the words that allowed him inside. Once she was sat down on her sofa, blanket draped over her shoulders and an ice pack in hr hand, she started to calm down.
Her gaze stayed on Klaus as he cleaned his surprisingly unbruised hands in the kitchen sink. His henley was stained, finger smears of blood that made her feel sick.
"Who was that man?" Klaus demanded, voice much colder than she had ever heard it. It frightened her.
"He's my ex-" She told her, voice wobbly as she sniffed.
"I thought he didn't come round here?" He snapped and she flinched.
"He's not meant to...I have a restraining order" She whimpered and Klaus swallowed, trying to push his anger down. It wasn't directed at her, it was at the man bleeding out downstairs.
He wasn't thinking straight, but he knew that he needed to stop yelling. If Y/N had been in a presumably abusive relationship before then witnessing Klaus almost killing a man would not bode well for him. Being too loud, too aggressive in his movements would scare her more.
His hands rubbed down his face, trying to conjure ideas on how to fix everything. Klaus considered compelling her but he was certain that it would come back to bite him in the ass. He didn't want to be a vampire to her, a hybrid. He couldn't heal her, it would complicate things further.
What would a human do? He wondered, glancing over at her tear-stained face as she looked up at him silently begging for help.
"Should I...call the police?" He sort of offered, feeling strangely nervous. He thought maybe it was the right thing to do. He would compel his way out of any charges of course but at least to Y/N he would be a good person doing the right thing.
"No..." Y/N whispered and he was a little surprised when she shook her head. "You'll be in trouble."
"I won't...it'll be ruled as defence of innocent life, I didn't attack him, he attacked you and I stopped him. He's in the wrong." Klaus argued, voice much gentler now.
"You don't know him...he has ties and connections, the police will ruin you, you'll be taken away. He's not gonna come back...you scared him but if you take him to court he'll win. I only got the restraining order because I gave everything for it." She explained. Klaus hated how vulnerable she was because of that man.
"Okay" He murmured, nodding. "We should get you to a doctor though, you're still hurt."
"It's just bruising, nothings broken, I'd know." She uttered, her eyes glancing down momentarily in shame.
Klaus knew that he would have her ex strung up by his own intestines. Tearing him apart from the inside out and watching the fear and horror leave his face when death took his filthy soul.
Cautiously, he sat down beside her and helped her over to him to hold her in a comforting hug. Her tears began quiet before they developed into broken sobs that she must’ve been holding in for so long. Klaus understood now why she wasn't ready for him but he made her a promise that he would wait and he would continue to uphold that by being there for her so that she may heal.
Later that day once Y/N had cried herself to sleep, Klaus went out back to move her ex-boyfriend. He put him down in the dungeons of the abattoir before returning to the shop and cleaning everything up. Putting every last piece of paper back on their shelf, he picked up the torn bags that Y/N had made and put them in the bin before spending his night making a hundred more to replace them.
The next day Y/N didn't come downstairs, he could hear her lead in bed, sniffling away to herself. He didn't want to make her come down so he ran the shop for her, serving customers and packaging things the way he had seen her do and restocking shelves at the end of the day so that everything was perfect like she had it. He locked the front up for her and went upstairs, going through her cupboards to cook her something for dinner.
Her tired little self had shuffled into the room once the inviting smell travelled through her door and enticed her presence.
Klaus brought her the plate of food to the little kitchen island and helped her onto the chair. "It wasn't too busy today but it wasn't too quiet either." He told her whilst getting her some water.
"You worked for me?" She whispered and he nodded.
"Course I did, I'm not the only artist who relies on your shop." He told her, a playful element to his words to make her smile.
"Thank you" She whispered earnestly. "For today and yesterday."
"We don't need to remember yesterday." He murmured, shaking his head.
"You didn't do anything wrong... you saved me."
"Right place, right time." He argued and she scoffed softly but he wouldn't let her contradict him.
Eventually they just agreed to disagree and they tidied everything up before Klaus went home.
He got in and went straight to Hope's room, apologising for being gone so long and promising to take her out for the whole day tomorrow.
They went for ice cream, to the park, for afternoon tea and to a soft-play. All women loved seeing a dedicated father, especially an attractive one. However no matter how many mothers hit on him or how many by passers would flirt, Klaus wouldn't bat an eye. Y/N was at the centre of his mind all of the time when it came to women. He barely noticed the amount of eyes on him, the attention he usually craved.
Now the only eyes he needed on him were hers.
Weeks passed by of him continuing his routine of dropping by. Her ex-boyfriend was long gone and very mutilated. He fell harder and harder for her, he could've stared at her for lifetimes. Sometimes he would linger around the shop until she gave in and asked if he wanted to use her art studio upstairs, it was smaller than his at home but felt much more intimate. It was as though he could see her every feeling sprawled out across the walls, the floor, everything everywhere. He ended up with his own rack on canvases in her studio which he would add to as often as she let him.
He waited a fair amount of time before he got to take her out. She met him outside of her shop, dressed as gorgeous as ever when he pulled up beside her in his car. He got out to open the passenger door for her, making sure she knew how much she brightened his evening.
Y/N was a little quiet on the drive there, her walls were up when it came to dating and he knew that and made sure not to push his limits.
Dinner was as sweet as expected, he behaved as the perfect gentleman to charm her and treat her correctly. There was never a moment of doubt or a second she felt even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Everything seemed to flow perfectly.
At the end he brought her home and made sure she got in okay. There were no kisses but he had expected that and didn't mind. Klaus was too overjoyed that he had finally gotten to take her out to be stressed over a kiss.
Oh but once he got that first kiss, he never wanted a day without one.
Klaus wasn't a touchy person usually. However whenever given the opportunity to have hand on his girl? Whether it be the small of her back, her hip, her waist, her hand, her knee? It didn't matter where, so long as she was happy and comfortable.
Once the relationship started rolling, it seemed to have a smooth journey. Klaus had practically moved into her apartment.
He was always curled up around her on the sofa, tickling her sides and nuzzling her hair while she tried to finish a drawing off. Often they would both be in her little studio, getting paint everywhere as they tried to create a joint painting. Klaus would always be there for at least one out of the three meals.
After a couple months of dates and kisses, he told her something really important; that he was a father.
Y/N had been shocked and a little upset that he hadn't told her sooner but eventually she understood why he didn't want to broadcast it.
"It's nothing to do with you, my love. I wouldn't have told any woman until I..." He paused, he wasn't sure this was the right time to say he loved her. "Until I really care about them, If I had told you then I would have introduced you and I couldn't do that unless I was sure...everything's much more complicated when a child's involved." Klaus explained.
"I get it Nik, I do. I just- I need some time to digest it, okay?" She sighed and he felt his heart sink as he nodded, kissed her head and headed home.
He loved Y/N and it would break his heart but if she couldn't be apart of Hope's life ever then she couldn't be apart of his, not truly.
A few days went by, he gave her some space and didn't come by the shop, before he received a message from her asking if he would come over. Klaus knew he would never let her go after that. He let her meet Hope only a week later, watched as she pushed his daughter on the swings and went down the slide with her on her lap. Hope was still young, only just getting ready to start school so she latched onto Y/N easily.
Everything moulded together so beautifully. To him, they were the little family he had secretly craved. A family where hatred was non-existent. Love was truly boundless and honest.
Arguments were rare and were over surprisingly fast. Klaus was used to endless grudges and growing hatreds against everyone but not her and Hope. There wasn't a bad thing to say about either of them.
But it was getting difficult for a few reasons.
The main one being that he was keeping a lot of secrets. She didn't even know his name. To her he was Nik Michaels. Not Niklaus Mikaelson. He was human, an artist who was doing really well and had lots of foreign buyers. She knew he had a big family, he had mentioned some names and stories here and there but it was strongly implied that they didn't speak anymore. Y/N wouldn't have ever guessed that he was living with them. She didn't know where he lived, just assumed he hadn't ever taken her before because she'd never asked and because of Hope.
Another growing issue for Klaus was his need for further intimacy. He had so much understanding for how she felt and how she had been treated in the past, he wouldn't voice his desires but they were slowly driving him crazy.
The amount of masterbation he had engaged in since he met her was making his balls hurt. As a man who had never really had such tight loyalty to a woman or had to wait so long for any sort of sexual contact, the past months drove his body crazy. Especially with how perfect she was.
Sometimes when they'd snuggle up he'd feel himself get all hard again, he'd ignore it for as long as possible before it became painful. It was unclear as to whether Y/N was unaware or choosing to ignore what was happening when he would disappear to another room to try to ease the tension.
There had been a lot of times that he had smelt her lovely arousal, often when making out or lead in bed but she never addressed it either so he knew she wasn't ready.
Klaus knew she wasn't ready to have sex but he wondered if she was ready for anything else.
So when she was laid against him on the sofa beneath a blanket with a romantic film playing in front of her, he let his hands slip downwards. He mirrored the actions of the man on the screen, letting his fingers disappear under her waist band and graze over her panties. Y/N's hand held onto his shirt at his shoulder, she was tense but nodded silently. Klaus's fingers pet her clit through the cotton barrier, varying his pressure and direction. A series of little mewls and gasps left her soft lips whilst her head went down, her face pressing into his shoulder as her hips rolled against his hand and wrist. "You feel so lovely." He whispered as he pulled her underwear aside and coated his fingers in her wetness.
Y/N held onto him so tightly, her breathing messy and unpredictable as she whimpered. "Please Nik, please keep going."
Klaus groaned at the sound of her begging and eagerly obliged. He leant down to kiss her forehead softly to keep her comforted as he circled his fingers over her sweet little jewel. He was slightly hesitant to let his middle finger sink into her but after another minute of her delicate little moans he let her tight heat encase his skin.
The sound she produced was pornographic and her hips thrust forward with desperation. Klaus felt her nails break through his shirt and dig into his skin making hiss in a pained delight and pump a second finger within her velvet walls.
"Nik!" She cried beautifully and he leaned down to kiss below her ear before nipping her earlobe. Her moans fuelled his wrist to move faster, push deeper. The slippery swollen clit beneath the pad of his thumb felt as though it was buzzing as her face pushed right into his neck, a muffled call leaving her as she came undone.
Klaus eased his fingers out of her gently and gradually slowed the stroke of his thumb before pulling his hand out from under the covers and sucking her taste from them. His eyes rolled back and his tongue licked over his bottom lip to catch the drip.
He looked down to look at Y/N as her chest rose and fell dramatically with each breath and her hair stuck to the back of her neck making him push the blanket down a bit to help her cool.
Klaus kissed her cheek before turning her head with his hand to feel those lips he loved so dearly against his own. He loved how she panted into their kiss, stealing all the air from his lungs and letting him be blessed with another soft little moan he had dreamt of for months.
He pulled away slowly and kissed her lips a few more times, looking down at her eyes through his own and enjoying her disheveled state.
"I love you." Klaus whispered, his eyes darting between hers to gage her reaction.
"I love you too." She replied without missing a beat making him release a breath and kissing her again for a little longer to really saver that feeling.
From that day Klaus almost lived in her little apartment. He restocked shelves in the evening, helped her cook, helped clean and then snuggled until bed. Hope had been coming round a few days in the week, not sleeping over because he didn't want to raise alarm bells with his family and also because there wasn't room but she came over to play after the store closed and on Mondays when it was closed they would often drive out of town to go to softplays and parks.
A couple times Hope had accidentally called Y/N 'Mommy'. Every time Hope would either feel really bad and cry or wouldn't notice at all, no in between. Klaus would calm her down and tell her that Y/N didn't mind and that they knew she didn't mean it to upset her real mommy. Y/N would just soften even more. Being a parent was something she did want one day and knowing that to Hope she was good enough to be called her mommy gave her such joy and love for the sweet child.
Klaus and Y/N never mentioned having children. It was a little difficult with them living separately and her working nearly everyday so it wasn't brought up. They didn't think nor worry about that.
Well...not until she wound up pregnant.
Klaus had just unlocked the door to come inside, bouquet of flowers in his hand and smile on his face before he heard her soft sniffles from the bathroom. His face dropped and he quickly shoved the door open.
His brows furrowed before his eyes widened as he looked around. At least five pregnancy tests were littered on the floor around her as she curled into herself and cried.
Slowly he picked one up and read that magic little word. Klaus swallowed thickly and knelt down to wrap his arms around Y/N's frame.
"It's alright, love." He whispered to her. His hands rubbed her back and sides gently whilst he focused his hearing on her body, listening for that faint little beat of their baby's heart.
Her head shook with a sniff as she leaned against him. "I can't afford a baby...it's too soon. I'm not- I was gonna wait at least a couple years, we haven't been together long enough-"
Klaus tried to shush her gently but her breathing became more and more rapid and her words started to blur together. Klaus could feel the worry building except he was worrying for two now.
"Y/N" He murmured, cupping her teary face in his hands. "We'll figure this out. I'm gonna be here, I can afford this okay? You can't worry about that. Just... just worry about your health and our baby." He trailed as his hand slid down her front to her tummy.
Y/N looked up at him through glassy eyes before glancing at his hand. She was quiet for the longest time, staying on the floor as he cleaned up the tests, throwing all but one out.
He made sure she ate something for dinner before going to bed with her, snuggling close and whispering about how beautiful their little boy or girl would be.
Y/N went back to work the next day, despite Klaus trying to persuade her that he could run the shop whilst she had a few days to herself.
So whilst she ran the art store, he started looking at real-estate nearby. He knew that they would need a house with at least three bedrooms if not four; one for them, one for the baby and one for Hope. If he could get a four bed it could be a playroom and then one day another bedroom. Klaus worried a bit over how his family would be, if they'd let him take Hope. Of course Hayley would have her half the time but he knew Hayley and he knew she wouldn't want split custody. But he couldn't leave Y/N and their child so he'd have to get it to work.
In the early months of Y/N's pregnancy everything was normal. Klaus kept up his visits, took her to doctors appointments and hid little sonograms in his room at home.
Though they didn't stay there long before he found a house.
It was perfect.
Five bedrooms, two of which were en suites with showers. A separate bathroom upstairs with both bath and shower and then a smaller one downstairs. The kitchen was spacious and had a lot of potential which Klaus immediately took advantage of and had people in and out all of the time to fit the marble countertops. Then he had an island fitted for the mental image of his cute little family having breakfast still dressed in their pyjamas and slippers. He still had a dining table for their evening meals and for when Hope got older and wanted to invite friends over or anything. He also furnished the living-room to be comfy and inviting with a beautiful fireplace and everything.
Klaus had lived in many houses, mansions, apartments but they were never a home. They were soulless, empty buildings that he just floated around so this time he wanted to make it homey and special. Warm, comfortable and full of life.
Once Y/N was six, almost seven months pregnant, Klaus told he had a surprise for her that required her to be blindfolded. She had yawned and told him that she was too tired which made him chuckle before leading her into the car.
When he took the cloth away from her eyes she was faced with such a stereotypical sight; that big white picket fenced house with a lovely lawn covered in flowers and berry plants.
Klaus wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting both hands on her now prominent baby-bump whilst placing a kiss to her temple.
"I know you were worried about raising our little one in your flat...The house is all ready for us, I'll keep your apartment above the shop so that you still have it and I’ll run the art store whilst you’re on maternity- We can have your things moved here- though I did buy some new-" He kept rambling but Y/N spun round and pushed her lips to his to shut him up.
She pulled away after a moment and rest her head in the crook of her neck, Klaus nuzzled into her hair before he realised she was sniffling back tears.
"What's wrong, my love?" He whispered and she wiped her eyes.
"Nothing...it's just perfect...you're perfect." She whimpered and he smiled, holding her tight. He chuckled softly, her pregnancy hormones had made her so teary over the smallest things but he didn't mind.
"You want to go see inside?" He asked her and she nodded vigorously, holding onto his hand as he lead her to the doorway.
He showed her the downstairs before taking her to their bedroom. On the bedside table was a framed sonogram and a framed positive pregnancy test. Y/N was a sniffling mess in seconds and Klaus was kissing all over her face to try calm those cries away. She was a mess when he brought her to the nursery, it wasn't decorated yet, only a simple crib in the room.
"I couldn't design this room without you." He whispered, stroking her bump as he did so.
That night Y/N and Klaus cooked for the first time in their new house, snuggled by their never before used fireplace and then went up to their new bed.
Klaus helped her our of her maternity clothes, shushing her when she told him she was gross like this. "You're gorgeous like this, I love that you're pregnant with our baby." He told her as he unclipped her bra making her whimper.
"I just want it out of me now." She sniffed, trying to cover her body with her arms and hands but he wouldn't let her.
"I love your body, it's always beautiful." He promised while pushing her to lay down on her back. Klaus wiped away the little tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes and kissed her sweet lips. His hands slid up to gently cup her swollen breasts, caressing them softly and kissing her jaw.
"We can't have sex like this...I look like-"
"You look like an angel." He cut her off, refusing to hear her talk bad about herself. He trailed his lips down her neck to her chest before sucking little red marks into her breasts. Klaus listened to her whimper, glancing up to check she wasn't hurting from how sore she was becoming lately. He smiled when he saw the look of pleasure in her eyes and slipped his hand down between her thighs where it belonged.
He stroked her pussy gently, feeling how wet she was without him having to do anything. Klaus knew Y/N needed him, his body, much more then she would ask for because she had become so self-conscious since getting a little bigger. Klaus found it silly that she could think being full of his child would make her less attractive, if anything it made her ten times sexier. Of course he knew that sometimes she was too tired but there were many occasions when she needed him and he knew it but wouldn't want him to touch her.
Tonight he felt the strong need to satisfy his love. So he circled her clit rhythmically whilst getting his pants off as swiftly as possible.
Y/N had no time to protest before his cock was burying inside her. She whimpered loudly and rolled her head to the side. "Nik..." She moaned and he groaned, leaning down to kiss her cheek round to her lips.
Y/N was desperate for the feel of his mouth on hers, the thrust of his cock between her walls and the grip of his hands on her hips but she couldn't help but worry about how she looked and she only knew she was going to get bigger in the remaining three months. Her eyes glanced down at her belly and the was he tried his best not to touch it as his hips rocked up against hers. Their lips parted and he cupped the side of her face.
"I'm just making sure I don't hurt the baby is all." He whispered, noticing her sad stare. "Don't think I don't want to touch you all over." He purred into her ear before sucking her earlobe between his teeth. "Once our little one is born and you're all rested I'll make sure you remember how good it feels when I get rough, hm?" He murmured whilst kissing the side of her face.
Y/N nodded stiffly and pushed her face into the crook of his neck, just focusing on the heat of his skin on hers and the electricity running in their veins.
Klaus kept his body moving, bucking his hips just right to make her moan into his skin. His hand kept playing with her swollen clit, teasing her closer and closer.
He grew more needy for her cunt to clamp down as he felt himself leak a few drops inside her. Klaus was grateful that she couldn't see his face when his eyes went gold and his fangs elongated, threatening her flavoursome flesh. Y/N could feel his breathing against her shoulder as his fingers dug into her sides.
"That's it, love-" He gasped, thrusting faster before slowing and giving a few slow, calculated plunges of his cock before feeling her sweet pussy squeeze tighten and gush around him. Klaus released a fast breath, urging his hybrid features to go away when he felt her shift beneath him, whispering if he was okay. He forced the fangs back in, the gold away and the veins to fade beneath his eyes as he felt her insecurities start to bubble.
Klaus pushed up on his arms, leaning down to kiss her deeply. His hands caressed up and down her body, making sure not to leave an inch of her untouched before he pulled himself out of her and slid his hands under her.
"Oh god- Nik don’t even try-" She protested but he picked her up with ease, much to her surprise, and carried her to their en suite bathroom.
Y/N went quiet at how easily he seemed to hold her as he ran a bath. Then lowered her into the warm water and continued to clean the sweat from her body and lean down to leave a display of kisses on her already marked up skin.
She couldn't help but just gaze at him as he let her relax amongst the bubbles and washed himself in the glass shower. The hybrid smirked to himself as he felt his love's eyes on him as the water ran down the length of his body. He cast a few looks her way, admiring her shy smile as she sunk into the water though that beautiful bump of hers still peaked up at him.
Once they were both out they laid down in the now clean bed. (Klaus had managed to secretly use his vampire speed to change all the bedding). They curled up together and drifted to a peaceful sleep.
The weeks seemed to go so fast, Klaus kept forgetting to go home to the point where his siblings actually thought something bad had happened.
Which was why when Klaus had gone grocery shopping for the two of them, Y/N was home alone to answer the door to three of his siblings.
Rebekah, Elijah and Freya all held threatening stances as they glared down the door, expecting a witch or a vampire. None of them were expecting nine-month-pregnant, overly emotional and tired young woman to answer the door.
She looked back at them a little confused and frightened when she realised they did not look friendly and she did not recognise them form the little neighbourhood she and Klaus had been getting to know. She shifted on her feet and placed a protective hand on her pregnant tummy.
"Can I help you?" She asked, voice soft and clearly nervous making the three siblings share a few looks. Elijah was about to apologise and claim they had the wrong house but Rebekah got in first.
"Do you know Klaus?" She questioned, tone coming out too harsh making Elijah wince.
"Uhm no...I'm sorry, I don't think anyone called Klaus lives close. Uh... two streets over theres a Clyde?" She tried to be helpful and it was obvious to all three of them that this girl wasn't going to have the answers they were looking for.
"We're very sorry for the intrusion miss." Elijah apologised, silently urging his sisters to leave this woman alone. "I think we got the wrong street, I hope you can forgive us." He told her earnestly and she nodded.
"It's okay...theres a lot of roads its easy to go down the wrong one- oh!" She cut herself off with a cry and they all went tense. Elijah stepped forward offering his arm for her to grab and squeeze painfully and she yelled out in pain.
"Rebekah! Start the car!" He called, wrapping his arm round the woman and helping her out the house. "Freya? Where's the closest hospital?" He questioned whilst squeezing her hand as her breathing started to level out.
"It's okay" Y/N whimpered, not wanting to give birth without Nik.
"Of course it's okay darling. Has your water broke yet?" Elijah asked, guiding her to the car.
"Yeah- It went just before you knocked... I was about to call- Oh god Nik- my phone I can't-" Her breathing picked up again but this time in a panic before another contraction came and she cried out, clutching his hand for dear life.
"It's alright, it's alright. The hospital will have his number, is he your next of kin?" He asked and she nodded, relaxing at the realisation and letting him ease her into the car.
Rebekah drove like a mad women, trying to keep conversation flowing; name, age, family, future plans. Freya was talking through breathing exercises and Elijah kept himself as a human stress ball.
Once they pulled up at the hospital they were all rushing in, yelling that they needed nurses, doctors anything to help this woman.
Surprisingly they all remained in the waiting room for a couple hours after feeling a strange bond with the mother-to-be after finding and helping her.
None of them really linked the fact that her boyfriend’s name being Nik could have been Niklaus, especially with how confused she was when they said Klaus.
So nobody was ready for Klaus to come rushing through the hospital, barging past anything and shoving the door open.
A silence fell over the three for the first time in years as they just stared at the closed door. Nobody moved for ages, even as Klaus dashed in and out of the room for more ice-chips, they just stayed put.
Occasionally one of them would go to the bathroom or to get a sandwich from a vending machine but they didn't even consider leaving the hospital until they heard the cries of a beautiful newborn baby.
Rebekah physically relaxed, collapsing in her seat when she was sure that the baby was okay. Hayley received a vague text that they'd be home sometime in the next couple days before they got back to patiently waiting for Y/N To be well enough.
The next morning the door opened and all three of them got up to their feet at the sight of Klaus with his arms around Y/N and her arms around the sweetest little baby ever.
"Oh. Those are the lovely people I told you about." She told Klaus, looking straight at them making Klaus turn his head.
His face dropped when he saw them and her heart-rate spiked. He tried to shake his head, to get out of this but he was panicking.
Y/N didn't know about the supernaturals. She didn't know about all his siblings. She didn't know he was Klaus. She didn't know anywhere near enough to be dealing with any of it right after giving birth.
"That's...that's very...kind of them." He choked out, trying to get anything out of him.
"We should thank them, they didn't need to stay." She whispered to him and he hesitantly nodded.
"I'll thank them, you get him into the car okay my love? He needs to get away from all these sick people." He told her, kissing her head and then his son's.
"No- Nik, come on lets just go say thank you." She argued, tiredly and made her way over making him hurry after her and keep his hand on her so they couldn't get too close.
He glared them down, daring them to say a word as Y/N thanked them so so much for getting her there safely and talking to her. She showed them the baby and Elijah worried that Klaus might actually snap when Rebekah asked to hold him.
"I think he's a little tired, probably best to get him home. Come on love, we all need rest." He urged and Freya nodded, putting a hand on Rebekah's shoulder.
"He's right, they need to get settled. Maybe one day we'll get to see the little man again." She agreed but the underlying question was there as to whether Klaus was ever planning to come clean about whatever was going on.
He let out a sigh and slipped his hand round to hold his son's tiny hand.
"Perhaps. Now we really need to leave." He was getting frustrated and Y/N was confused.
He lead her away and she looked up at him.
"Nik...is something wrong? Do you know them?" She asked as they got out the door and a frown swirled across his features.
"It's...I'm gonna explain it later okay? I just need you both inside and safe and comfy, I just..." He swallowed down his worry and strapped their little boy into the carseat. "I love you." He told her, standing up straight and cupping her face.
"I love you too...I don't understand what that-"
"It doesn't, I just need you to know how much I adore you." He whispered and she smiled.
"I love you too." She kissed his lips softly. "Nothing's going to change that." She promised and Freya, Elijah and Rebekah listened from round the corner with soft smiles on their faces.
Everything was going to be different when they got home. Klaus was worried. His son had just been born, healthy and perfect. He had planned to bring them home, feed her a lovely dinner and possibly propose to her.
He had chosen the most gorgeous ring. Klaus wanted to be with her forever, especially now that they had a new little angel that they shared. He hadn't ever had such a normal, domesticated relationship.
The house, the kids.
If they got a pet his life would be every movie ever.
But now he had to ruin it all. He had to reveal the worst parts about himself.
How would his darling Y/N react when she found out he was a serial-killing monster who's haunted millions of people for hundreds of years. Or that he daggered his own siblings, tortured innocents and sacrificed teenagers.
Could she forgive that? Should she love him? Would she even want someone like that near such a delicate baby boy?
Klaus stared at himself in the mirror, tucking the ring box back into his hiding place and taking a breath as he tried to ready himself.
#soft!klaus mikaelson#klaus fluff#klaus mikaelson fluff#tvdu angst#cliffhanger#the originals#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikealson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaleson imagine#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#kol mikaelson#niklaus imagines#niklaus mikaelson#tvd klaus#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus michaelson#tvd universe#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson headcanon#klaus mikaelson yandere#klaus mikealson smut#klaus mikaelson x yn#klaus mikealson x reader#tvd smut
645 notes
·
View notes
Note
a blurb where Lovie is as clumsy as alessia is and keeps falling over and bumping into things and spilling stuff but she hops back up so quickly and is like I’m ok
NOT SO ELEGANT — alessia russo x child!reader
grumpy masterlist
there were many things you had inherited from your mum, like your big blue eyes, your hair colour, your infectious little giggle and your mother's clumsiness. or as alessia liked to rephrase it as being not so aware of her surroundings.
you were forever bumping into things, dropping things or even just falling over. alessia was forever trying to make sure that there were no serious dangers around especially when you were known to bump into even the smallest of things.
it was getting to the point where even the arsenal girls had noticed your clumsiness.
"lovie, do you still wanna show beth your dance?" your mummy asked as you sat at a table, a cup of juice dangerously close to the edge of the table as you watched your ipad. the team was filitering back into the canteen from the afternoon gym session.
"yes, yes!" you jumped up, a big smile as your arms went into the air, on their way knocking your cup of juice into the seat. "oh... it's okay mummy, just a little bit of juice" you frowned looking at the juice dripping onto the floor moving your feet so that they didn't get wet.
"your alright, you show beth your dance and i'll clean this" your mummy reassured you, lifting you out from the seat to ensure you didn't get wet, beth looking on shaking her head a slight snicker coming from her.
"what you like tiny!" she ruffled your hair as you wondered near beth who was in the middle of asking your mum if she wanted any help, alessia waving the girl off as a big grin was plastered across your face. a lot of work had gone into your dance. "let's see this dance then!"
"wait, i need music!" you moved from your starting position, pointing towards beth's phone.
"what song would you like tiny?" beth asked as you mulled over it for a few seconds before a song name came into your head.
“that one viv likes, the one about summer” you smiled, viv had introduced you to taylor swift last week when you were on the road to an away game, her telling you her favourite and for the past week all you had wanted on the radio or the tv was taylor swift.
beth pulling a puzzled face as she tried to quickly remember which song you were talking about, “ah cruel summer?” she asked as you nodded quickly.
beth tapped away at her phone as you got into your starting position in a bit of space in the middle of the canteen, beth giving you the thumbs up that she had pressed play.
you began to do your dance, which was more just you kicking your leg around and flaying your arms around in a time that wasn’t really in rhythm with the song but you were just little so it was cute.
a few more of the girls had come through from the gym stopping in the doorway, their faces lighting up with smiles as they saw you performing your dance, which you had made sure to tell and show all of the arsenal girls.
“yes tiny!” katie hyped you out from the side a few of the other girls, like leah, caitlin, vic and viv clapping you on. alessia was watching on with a small giggle having watched you do this countless times around your living room in past two days alone.
it was going so well, you had put even more energy and effort into the movements but it of course was going to well. you getting a little close to the chair and as you turned to kick your leg out again, your leg got stuck on the chair.
making your trip, a loud crash sound echoed through the room, you landing straight on your knees. a loud gasp coming from the girls watching as the music continued to play. the girls unsure weather to laugh or be seriously concerned or if it was part of your routine.
but coming from the concerned look that had risen on your mums face. it ruled out the possibility of it being part of the dance routine.
“well that wasn’t very elegant-“ katie mumbled as caitlin slapped the girl on the shoulder giving her a stern look as katie held her hands up defensively.
“beth! turn the music off?” viv called out from the side of the room as beth scrambled to turn it off.
“lovie?” your mummy called out with caution, unsure if you were hurt and if the tears were going to start. the girls still looking on not knowing how to react.
“i’m okay!” you jumped back up, a big grin on your face as the girls cheered. you wondering off to your mummy who wasn’t as convinced.
“are you sure you okay?” she asked as you stood inbetween her legs, your mummy fixing the clip that was in your hair as it came loose when you were dancing around.
you nodded, a smile still on your face. “yes, it didn’t even hurt mummy” you played off so confidently as the rest of girls had settled into the canteen and sat down not that your little intervention was finished.
“think you may have to retire the dancing shoes tiny!” vic joked as she took a seat next to your mummy as your eyebrows furrowed a little.
“noo the chair was just in my way, pavlova” you giggled, as you dragged out your words a small giggle coming from your mummy as you used the nickname she had given vic.
you began to wonder off to talk to the other girls, but not without bumping into emily and tripping over another chair leg that was poking out.
“she’s definitely your child less!” vic laughed as alessia rolled her eyes sighing at the fact you had in fact inherited alessia’s clumsiness, and in fact you might actually be worse…
#alessia russo x y/n#alessia russo#alessia russo x reader#woso community#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#awfc#arsenal women#arsenal wfc#arsenal#england wnt#england women#england#victoria pelova#enwoso
413 notes
·
View notes
Text
the other woman * mv1
everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour
notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO
(f1 masterlist)
your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.
he's late.
but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?
your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.
a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.
only for him not to show up?
this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.
because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.
you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?
you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.
you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.
only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.
fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.
you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.
it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.
it's your day.
a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"
"it's just me."
the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?
you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.
"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."
you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."
"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."
you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."
"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."
"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"
"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"
"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"
he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"
"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"
he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."
"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"
"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."
"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"
"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"
you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."
his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."
"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."
"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."
"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."
"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."
"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."
"you don't really mean that."
"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.
you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."
he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.
but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.
perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.
but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.
"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."
"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."
"please."
"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."
"i'm sorry."
"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 fanfiction#f1 fanfiction#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
spencer comforts you with facts and affection alike when you worry you aren't as pretty as the girls on his team. requested here. fem!reader, 1.6k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Photographs can't accurately capture how beautiful Emily Prentiss is. JJ and Penelope are both gorgeous too, but it's Emily who startles you. Her hair a cool black colour and curled around her demure face, the line of her nose and her deep, dark eyes. Her lips, picture perfect and painted a soft pink.
The prettier you find her, the more your heart sinks.
Spencer squeezes your shoulder. It's bold for him to do so in front of his friends (his family, really), he can barely show you affection in the grocery store without turning rosy. You preen at the touch, but the feeling of insecurity remains like an irksome gnat zipping around your head.
"We didn't think we'd ever get to meet you!" Derek is saying, a casual arm thrown around Penelope's shoulders, a drink in hand.
Rossi couldn't attend and JJ felt too pregnant, bringing your party to a solid six. It still feels like a lot of people to meet at once.
You hold the flute of your glass in a nervous hand, fingers stickied by condensation. You have a feeling that you're in trouble, all these profilers assessing your behaviour, nowhere to hide. "No, I'm," —you raise your voice to hide the funny tremor that's taken hold— "so happy to meet you all, I promise I've been trying!"
"Whenever she gets time off, we're on a case," Spencer says.
Emily smiles widely at your statement. It's such an open, friendly look, it floors you. You look down at your drink and blink.
You don't know it, but the team exchanges glances at your behaviour.
"So, do you enjoy your work?" Emily asks. "Or hate it, like us?"
Hotch laughs and moves his pint glass onto a coaster. "I think it's safe to say that none of us hate our jobs."
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I can't imagine how hard it is, how hard you all work," you say. Spencer's hand drifts down your back. "But you have each other."
Emily does this thing with her eyes and if you weren't in a happy relationship, you'd probably be a puddle at her feet. "Too much of each other," she says jokingly.
She's gorgeous, and Spencer sees her every single day? You're nothing compared to her. Not smart, not strong, and nowhere near as pretty. You could never measure up.
"Would you, um, excuse me?" you ask, moving your purse from your lap and onto the table.
"You okay?" Spencer asks, looking up as you stand.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just gonna use the bathroom," you say quietly. You aren't, but if you were, you wouldn't really want to broadcast that anyhow.
You try not to wobble on the way to the bathroom. The weight of five pairs of eyes follows you as you leave, four of which are trained in the art of spotting lies. Everything isn't okay, and they know that, and by extension —all the effort you made tonight? Getting your hair done, your nicest clothes, your makeup and your perfume? It might as well be a huge blinking neon sign that says you're trying really hard, and it doesn't make a lick of difference.
You sidle into a stall, pulling the lid of the toilet down with a tissue and sitting on it heavily. Elbows on your knees, you hunch your back and hide your face in your hands, breathing in the smell of bleach through quick breaths. Water drips somewhere near the sinks, the cacophony of the restaurant hushed.
You've never felt naturally pretty. With Spencer, it hasn't ever mattered. He's never given any indication that he cares. But…
"Loser," you mutter to yourself.
"Hey, Y/N?" Spencer asks, his voice bouncing off of the tile.
You freeze. "Two seconds!"
"You're not really using the bathroom," he says incredulously.
"Says who?"
Spencer laughs, his tone wry, "I know you really well, you realise? Like, better than I know anyone else on the planet."
"Then you know I'm having an authentic pee and need my privacy."
"Come on out."
The ringing of the lock slotting free is like an announcement of your embarrassment. Spencer's standing a half a foot from the doorway, keeping his distance from the no man's land that is the ladies room. You're going to use it to your advantage, only he holds out his hand expectantly. When you take it, he pulls you out of the bathroom and firmly into the restaurant hallway.
You can't escape his concern, nor his hands as they cup your face unexpectedly.
They feel as nice as they look, deft fingers pressed to your skin like you're one of his puzzles to decipher.
"What upset you?" he asks.
"Nothing your friends did, I promise."
"But something." He smooths a hand down to your shoulders. He's not quite frenetic but certainly close to it, searching for a problem he won't find on the surface. "You're insecure about something," he deduces.
You cringe bodily. "I'm not."
"What is it? Is it your necklace? It really is nice, the colour goes with your skin. It's understated."
"It's not my necklace, Spence."
"Then what is it?"
"I just…" You pull his hands from your neck and collar to hold them, looking up into his melty brown eyes wishing he weren't so hard to say no to. "Feel like you could do better."
He frowns. It's a pout, and endearing, but not what you want to see.
"I love being with you, I just think, you know, you're so handsome, and you have all these pretty friends," you say.
"You think you're not pretty?" he asks. He sounds gutted, if a little confused.
"Not like her." Your voice quivers.
The first time you got upset in front of Spencer, he wasn't sure what to do. He ended up putting an arm around your shoulder, your brand new boyfriend out of his depth. You've both had some practice at comforting one another now, and any hesitance Spencer held is gone. He wraps his arms around you like he's afraid you'll fall over, the crease of his stressed brow smushing against the side of your face.
"Don't think that. Why would you think that?" he asks quietly.
"I know I'm not pretty like some girls," you say, surprised by the ferocity of his reaction.
"You don't know that, because it's not true. You're beautiful." He squeezes your side between his fingers, something contemplative about the way his thumb curls upward. "Do you know how many books I've read?"
"Thousands."
He hums. A hand grasps at the back of your neck. "Thousands of books. I know so much, especially about the human body. I know that falling in love can make some people feel the same effects as cocaine. Staring into their eyes can synchronise your heartbeats." He encourages your head back. "Butterflies are adrenaline and when I look at you I can't get them to stop, even if I know it's chemical." Spencer's eyes are lit with something you don't often see directed at you, a furious conviction. "What we think we know isn't always fact, so if you think you're not pretty…" He nods his head gently to the left. "There's only really one thing left to do."
Your heart feels like it's being juiced. "What's that?" you ask.
He grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. Fingertips to his breastbone, he holds it flat. Sure enough, even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, you can feel the rapid capering of his pulse.
"It's like that pretty much any time I look at you."
"Spence…"
"I know it's bad," he says.
"Are you messing with me?"
"Yeah, I did a lap before I came to find you– No!" He laughs, giving you an admonishing look. "Why would I mess with you? How could I?"
"I don't know."
He dips in to kiss your frown. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "So, so pretty. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, no matter what you think."
You don't believe that you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, but you believe that he believes it. He has no reason to lie to you, nothing to gain. He could've said, Hey, you're pretty, and left it at that. He could've been angry with you for leaving the table for something some people would say was superficial. But Spencer's your sweetheart.
"Do you want to go home, angel?" he asks, looking at you worriedly.
"No." You don't even have to think about it —you've done enough thinking. "I don't want to go home. Sorry, Spencer. I feel better." And you'll stay out all night if he's going to call you angel again.
"Well, let me know if you need me to tell you again."
The chances of you surviving such an ardent speech a second time are low. "I won't be doing that."
Spencer shrugs. "You'll let me know, even if you don't think so. You have a tell when you're upset."
You spend the rest of the night making up for your disruption (which Spencer's friends immediately dismiss without questioning), shepherding the crisper curly fries on to Spencer's plate because he likes them that way, and begging him to tell you what your tell is with subtle pleading glances and a hand on his knee. Nothing inappropriate, but affectionate nonetheless.
He doesn't tell you no matter how much you ask, and maybe it's the drinks or the way the scone light kisses his cheeks in a warm buttery light, you can't find it in you to be mad.
"Keep your secrets," you say, chin tilted upward. You're failing to glare at him, too much love in your eyes for it to be believable.
"You're beautiful," he says back, mirroring your expression playfully, before leaning down for a chaste kiss.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! if you did, please consider reblogging, it makes a big difference to me<3 have a good day!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
NEED IT BACK
last minute faults before performing are the worst, but maybe this one was a blessing in disguise to repair what it was for you and jay.
EX SITUATIONSHIP TO LOVERS IDOL! EDITION. GUITARIST JAY X GUITARIST FEM READER | SMUT ANGST FLUFF | JAY JUST WANTS YOU BACK
"You're fucking kiddin' me."
Jay fumbles around the strings of his prized-possession fender, unscrewing the lead caps in the process to see why on earth it's not making the tone he so generously practiced up until now. His frustration was only getting worse as the time crunched by the minute- soon, the whole group will have to be up, smiling and adoring their foreign fans before they break off into an instrumental- which Jay may not be performing if he can't find another replacement guitar.
"Didn't you have another one packed in the van?" Jungwon tries to ease for more solutions, making Jay silently dismiss him, biting his lip as the members watch- anxious. This time, Sunoo picks up the conversation, making small talk between Jay and their managers, "Maybe it'll be fine playing it just like that, our fans can only understand, Jay-"
"No, I-I can't play like this! I want this to sound right-"
"What about y/n?"
Fortunately enough, they weren't the only idol group on set that has a renowned guitarist. And for a big day like today, everyone can't afford to lose composure.
"What did you just say?" Jay groans, walking close to Sunghoon who could only put his hands up in defense. "She has a good guitar like yours, you would know." He adds. Their managers hesitantly agree, rearranging a way to ask for your group's manager.
"No, she wouldn't just-- give it to me.. She... ." Jay mumbles, fingers running through his hair, "She's not..." Jake puts a hand on Jay's shoulder, shaking it a lil to ease him up. "It's an emergency, and you happen to always have her as your last resort."
⠀more below ㅡ。
Jay paces across the room, tapping his soles as the members exchange looks- silent conversations held within their eyes as they see your group's manager passing a guitar case towards the nearby table before bowing off- wishing the group a respectful good luck.
Jay stands above the table, a silent groan vibrating across his skin. Goosebumps, it was, seeing your guitar he'd always see on display when he used to come by- presented perfectly to him atop of the dark crimson case, with a note left behind. Jay- hesitantly, brings the note to his eyes, capturing a whiff of your scent before reading the cursive words you had to say.
"Take care of it. You owe me."
A makeshift cover consisting of paper tape and coloured stickers covered her engraved initials on the face of the guitar- making Jay chuckle. The colours of the stickers were- cute. Yet he falters, damning himself. Just like the seconds away, Jay reminisces his closeness with you, wishing he had more time to make it right. In fact, he never did want to break things off. He loved you, yet- the passion for work always prevailed, and it seems it lead off to a bitter end.
"Will it do?" Heeseung chimes, checking on him as they begin to be escorted out towards the stage. Jay could only smirk, keeping the note inside his back pocket, before strapping the glossy guitar around his arms. "It'll do; more than what I expected."
Hurriedly after giving away your guitar with no second thought, you and your members debriefed- wondering if you were so ever obviously present in the back of his mind. But you always had doubts, I mean- it's been a whole year since the so called relationship was called quits in bitter words and tears. It wasn't your fault you wanted him exclusively, but it wasn't his for prioritising fame.
You watch behind the scenes of their performance, how Jay gets singled out under the spotlight with your guitar, gliding his fingers softly across the strings. You watched as he lifts the corners of his lips, smirking as he feels up the frets with his finger tips- slowly pushing up the whammy, before clearing his voice to sing.
If there was one thing you were in denial for, it was the fact that he 'wasn't hot whenever you watched him play guitar' knowing that heat pools between your thighs every time you catch a glance.
You felt a tug in your stomach as you watched him look at the camera, breathing out as he stops playing. "In the end, the answer is always you." He sings, which you remember was a lyric from their discography, but you had your doubts, hopelessly wishing you're still regarded higher than just a spare guitar.
"I heard they have to leave immediately after this. They've got too much on their schedule, I bet they're flying back to Korea immediately."
"But what about my guitar?" You stand up, pointing at yours on screen. "Relax babe, he knows where you live." one of your members hint, causing a playful slap across the arm. "I will not let him in." You mumble, which only caused the members to shake their heads, "You most definitely will."
"Whatever- I'm ignoring him."
You kept your mouth shut, knowing you would. Soon enough your pride about Jay fell, and you began to crave him all over again.
Nothing like the post-performance clarity hit Jay like a truck, realising it's his fault that now you can't perform, seeing you apologise for a last minute change up while he sits in the back of the van- caressing the problem he created. If only his guitar worked in the first place, now he's more definite than ever that he MUST repay you. Usually he'd be mad at this sort of situation, but why is it that he can't bring himself to cross his eyebrows, and huff like he always would? The way he hides his smile pushes the members to joke, taunting him- lecturing him.
"Funny how she sacrificed her image for you, when you clearly broke it off thinking you'd break her career."
"Hah! I knew it, you waited for her to reach out to you because you're a coward-"
"Jake he's not a coward."
"You're right, he's a loser-"
"Shut up." Jay pushes away the playful endearment, scrolling through old photos as he awaits your flight back home. "I'll visit her the moment she settles back home."
"Bet she won't let you in.-"
"I will do anything for her to let me in." Jay folds the corners of your note, a heart tugged by the strings as he sets sea in his mind- he's been dying to make it right.
The first few weeks of you without your guitar were painful, and if it wasn't for the small updates from Jay's instagram with pictures of it well kept- you would've found yourself in a ditch. You even considered unblocking him just to call you back, but you knew your pride was bigger than that.
You finally realise the little messages he hides behind his stories. Posting the cute stickers you placed there with his hands casually ghosting over your initials, with a bandaged heart emoji covering the rest. The next occasional posts of him wondering the foreign streets were accompanied by the songs that both of you would learn on guitar together, and even songs that you both would eventually constantly sing together.
He was playing your little game you used to do that he would often get frustrated at, scared that he'd be caught from conscious fans and stalkers alike- but now he's shameless, constantly posting places and references that only you would know- so you decided to post a pretty photo of you back on instagram, adding a significant song you and Jay used to make love to; a happy memory that also signified your second date with him.
He read your message clear, it was all so obvious you missed each other. At this point he wanted to tell the world how badly he fucked up. You even unblocked him briefly to see if he had ever messaged you on the day that he'd landed, to which he did;
⠀Last week
J: Baby I want you back so bad I messed up
J: Angel I'm doing everything I will to get you back
J: Who's that guy in your story?
⠀Two days ago
J: I miss you so bad it hurts
J: Never thought I'd cry again about us
J: Made a song about you
⠀Yesterday
J: I know you'll unblock me soon
J: I feel it in my bones baby
J: Fuck Dispatch and fuck the crazy fans
J: I'm coming over and I'm going to get you back
"I'm coming over, angel."
MDNI
The silhouette of Jay's figure at your front door's intercom hollowed your eyes, there he was, in all his glory, holding your guitar case, hands behind his back fumbling.
"Y/n." He calls for you, breath raggedy as his mind chases, wondering if it was too early to come over- besides, he read your schedule down to a T- he was confident you were here even if you blocked his contact; but it's not like he was stalking! he just so happens to know everything about you- still.
You sighed, looking at his figure and his open button up, the sleeves bunched around his elbows, and his jaw sharp, clenched; his brows knitted as his musters the words to call you again. This time you answer before he could say anything, swinging open the door to see his other arm hold the knob, pushing himself inside before closing it swiftly, leaving to corner you in the hallway.
"These are for you." He looks down at you, red roses emerge from behind his back, they were just as dark as the velvet on your guitar case, encapsulated by his old perfume; one you got really attached to. Your smile falters by the interaction, doubting this sincerity as you barely try to reach his eyes.
"Oh- It's fine, really. I didn't need the flowers-" You get stopped by his hands grabbing yours, bringing them up to kiss them. "You're right, I should've gotten you other things." He mumbles, looking away as his ears perk up red.
"Jay." You stop him, walking away to the kitchen as he follows you, "You got what you wanted." You start off, licking your lips in stress. Jay watches you, ears perked and eyes glossy, finding the right time to interrupt you again, "What I wanted?"
"Yes! You got what you wanted, so you can leave!" You pan back to him, his shoulders slumped as he leans against the kitchen doorway.
"What exactly did you think I wanted?" He crosses his arms, taking small strides closer to your figure behind the counter. "You think I wanted us to end like that? You think I used you for sex? Tell me," He huffs, eyebrows knitted, "What do you think I so fucking want?"
"Your success? I know you wanted a perfect performance, I know you value your reputation so bad, so-" You huff a breath, "You got it, and now you're just here to give back the guitar so, why can't you just leave?"
"Leave you? Again?" Jay raises his voice, rushing to your sides. "Believe me when I realised what I said to you that time was wrong, and it ate me up every time we exchanged looks like we were strangers, angel. Strangers!"
Your eyes flutter at the old nickname, fingers balling into a fist, "That's what you chose, though. You chose to make me believe it that way too." you fight back, only to see Jay inch closer to you, shaking his head.
"No, angel. I really believed that it was all I ever wanted, but I realised-" He stops himself, cloudiness forming in the corners of his eyes, searching your body for an ounce of intimacy.
"..I neglected what I needed."
Those words crushed you. To be void of emotion when interacting with each-other off and on camera, when not so long ago you were crying your heart out in bitter disputes- you two admit you never healed, and now there's a crack in your heart you now believe can be repaired.
"Take me back. Please..." Was all he said, holding your hands as he lowers his head to meet yours, tears forming in the inner of his eyes. You could only speak spurts of words, clearing your throat from the sudden desperation.
"You're gonna have to prove it to me that you'll never reject what you need for rest of your life, jjong." you softly respond, your gaze lurking upon his face as he chuckles, a frown on his lips as his heart leaps from the old nickname, one he never passed on. "Yeah?" He responds, "Fuck, angel.. I'll prove you with every second in the world." His voice cracks, carrying you to your own bedroom.
"Fuck, I missed you." He mumbles against your neck, bringing you close, sliding his hands on your sides, "'M gonna buy you all the guitars you want, baby." He mumbles, drunk off your scent. You smell his whisky breath to confirm his actions, it was obvious it was hard for him to do this sober. "Jay, how much did you drink?" You whisper, to which he smiles, kissing your neck, "Just enough to remember."
"I've missed you." You whisper again, looking into his eyes as you lift a brow, watching how his eyes slant, his lips turning up into a smirk. "You won't have to miss it anymore, my sweet girl."
"Whatever." You chuckle, "You still owe me." you bring up the note. Jay sits up properly, caging you in his arms as he tilts his head, "I know a way to prove my love and repay you at the same time my sweet, sweet angel." He whispers, his body towering over yours.
"Please?" He practically frowns for your acceptance, his hands hovering over your shirt, rubbing your tummy and sides as he begs to touch you more. You nod, huffing as he lifts your shirt up, throwing whatever you had on away from the space.
"'M not gonna make y'cum until you accept me as your boyfriend, baby." He boldly warns, cupping your breasts as you moan in relief, happy that they've been warmed by familiarity. "Be honest with me, Jjongie-" You cry out in moans, "You've hooked up with others have you?"
The question only angered Jay, making him pinch your nipples, groping your breasts, with your bra thrown across the room. "You really think I'd do that?" He responds, "I lied back then, I've stopped hooking up with others the moment I met you." His voice contained remnants of desperation, kissing your neck down to between your breasts, kneading them in circles as you moan in pleasure. "You're the only one I want, angel."
Jay stopped kissing between your breasts, going back to your lips as he crosses his brows, "Don't tell me you saw other men." He says, only making you pout, responding in a small voice. "I don't think you know how bad you fucked me up."
"Am I that good?" Jay chuckles, ghosting his fingers over your cheeks. "And bad." You respond referring to split, frowning. Jay stops, looking at you in the eyes before diverting his eyes to your lips, kissing you passionately as you had your hands on his chest kissing back. He pulls away, pecking your forehead as he lowly breathes, watching how you react- smirking, knowing that he can go further.
"I'll fuck the bad memories out of you, m'kay? How's that sound?" He whispers, kneading your thighs, palming the wetness around your heat.
"Please, baby." You moan in return, making him smile. "I missed that sweet voice of yours.." He mumbles, "Okay, yeah." He starts, pulling you closer to the edge where he has you caged between his arms, "I'll give my girl what she wants." He whispers, kissing your inner thighs while he kneads your ass. Jay takes his time, kissing your heat, tasting you as he desperately pushes you against his lips. "You always taste so fucking good." He murmurs, "I missed you so fucking much."
His hands were causing imprints around your legs like tattoos, and his tongue was too busy kissing your spot, stimulating you with his fingers and nose bridge. You brush your fingers through his hair, making him go crazy all over again. His moans vibrate against your heat, and your legs bucked around him. He's only getting harder, spitting on your opening before going back to your lips, kissing you rough. "More." You beg, making him blush, smirking at your doe eyes while you squirm beneath him.
"So needy." He smiles, going against your clit, rutting against it as you reach your high. He could feel you jittering like a mess, occasionally pausing- so he could edge you again. Pussy drunk, Jay pulls away from your pink mess, seeing your hole leak of juices; overstimulated by his vibrating approach.
"Fuck I'm so hard, angel." He cries, and you pause to capture his stance. You see his stained, loosely unbuttoned shirt being unclothed by his sticky hands, revealings his toned abs which only made you wetter, he palms his bulging crotch under his dress pants- unbuckling his belt before revealing his member. Jay's cock slapped against his own stomach- pink and sensitive, making him quiver. He bends a little down, sticking his tip against your clit and your creamy heat, capturing the slick to rub against his shaft.
You eyes flutter from his warmth gliding between your lines, and you moan. "Feels so good baby." You say before going on your knees, your plush body puffing down on the centre of the bed, giving him doe eyes as you glide your fingers down his abs before stopping at his tip. "I need you so bad angel." He pleads.
His face goes flush, biting his lips as he watches you go down on him. He pauses, grazing his fingers on your cheek before swirling his thumb in your mouth: "Fuck baby," He moans, cock twitching. "If you look at me like that again I'll cum."
His cock was so sensitive to your touch, giving you physical evidence of his desperation. With just a sloppy kiss to his blushed tip, his cock jerks, twitching with spurts of pre cum. Jay could only breathe heavily holding your hands and intertwining them as he craved more of your intimacy. "Please angel more, please please.." He begs, on his knees as he pants. You could only smirk in return. "Only because you want me so bad-" "I do baby, so so so fucking much-" And you gag him before he could even finish his sentence, slobbering your warm touch and gummy cheeks around his sensitive arousal. His hips bucked, drilling his cock deeper down your throat as you hum, vibrating against his shaft.
"Fuck!" He moans, whimpering as you bob your head, using your hands, twisting them as you continue to suck him. He watches your hands leave his cock, massaging his thighs and toned abs as he captures the drool of your wet pussy, stimulating it with his middle finger. You moan in response, causing Jay to groan, feeling your hum against his tip. "Baby I can't-" He pants, "I'm gonna fucking cum-" And you lock eyes with him, looking up at him as you allow him to fuck your pretty little face.
He shoots the loads down your throat, sighing highs as he jerks back, bringing your face up to kiss you, before throwing you down on the bed.
"My sweet, sweet angel." He cooes, seeing your salivated lips and your hazy eyes take in his own cum. "I'm gonna make you cum so fucking hard, I'm making you take everything, okay?"
Jay doesn't give you a second to respond, spitting on your clit as his sloppy dick drives into your tight cunt, dragging your waist close to his before drilling deeper into you.
You mewl in response, your tits bouncing so harshly below him as your plush and pink thighs clap against his rough humping. Thick juices clump together before webbing out with every thrust, forming bubbles around his rim. He locks eyes with you, watching how yours look up, mouth agape as he fucks you drunk. "Fucking missed this pussy so much." He groans, spitting against you again, pulling out of your hollowness to slap his slick against your clit and make you moan before shoving it back in.
It wasn't long before you reached your high, and Jay often treated you as a princess, giving you your orgasm when so greatly needed, but he needed you so badly, he doesn't want you to imagine a world that was better without his cock; so he makes you so desperately crave it.
Before reaching your high he takes it out again, grabbing your legs before pressing your thighs against your stomach, pushing your own legs into you. "Jjong, please I need to cum-" He stops you by slapping your ass, "No." He dryly replies, rougher and drunker by your slick. "Baby!" You moan as the tip hits you deep. Your bed was filled with cream under your ass, spilling out as endless pre-cum and juice multiplied in your heat. His thrusts were only quicker this time, his voice whining and mumbling lewd words under his breath as he begins to be so fixated on your lips.
He kisses you so passionately, and he slows down, chasing his breath before turning you around. "Jjong, please-" You beg while ass was up to worship his face. "I'll only make you cum when you accept me as your boyfriend, baby." He starts, "I've given you proof and I'll continue to fuck you this good to get you to say yes." He growls. Slamming his cock into your spongey spot several times, holding your arms as your tits jiggle mid air. You see your silhouettes against the curtain, and your back being blown that your voice register is no longer working. "So," Jay starts, whispering against you as he fucks puddles into you.
"Will you take me back?" He pleads, stuttering his flow as small tears run down your eyes. You were fucked out of your mind, and you knew the greatest decision was to-
"Fuck!" You moan as Jay pounds into you, his soft demeanour changing as he grows impatient, hating to see you hesitate. "So?" He grips onto your waist, slapping your ass, pre-cum already leaking out of him again.
"Yes!" You moan in pleasure, begging him to cum in you. "I can't hear you." He groans louder, groping your tits before going down to rub circles on your clit as he continues to thrust into you from behind. "Yes yes! Please baby-" Your wishes have been heard as he gives one final jerk, deep into you as he overstimulates your clit- making you cum against his own high- endless white and clumps of stickiness leaking out of your pussy as Jay mindlessly uses his tip to stick it back into you.
You smile hazily as you continue to catch your breath, going to lay on your back as your stomach rises and falls. Jay plops down next to you on his side, rubbing circles on your stomach as he kisses your temple. "Great decision baby." He smiles against your lips. "I'll get us cleaned up." He always says after sex, carrying you to the shower only for him to fuck you again in it before cleaning you up.
Clean sheets, two guitars on the bed and a sunrise ahead, the two of you lay against each other humming and whispering love. You catch up with him again, and its like he never changed, only got wiser in the end as he continues to confess his undying love to you sober this time.
You go on your phone, seeing news outlets blowing up about Jay. And you both look in mild surprise that Jay was spotted with your guitar case and roses, crossing the street looking like a triple threat.
You look up to him, furrowing your brows, "You went out in public? Did you want to be seen?" You genuinely ask, knowing the main reason you didn't want to date surrounded the transparency of publicity.
"Yeah, I wanted them to know." He proudly says, "I don't fucking care anymore baby." Follows, grabbing your chin before kissing you slowly. "I got what I wanted."
perm taglist:
@nikiswifiee @ja4hyvn @ancnymcnzjy @17ericas
other tags:
@lazuxag @jiiyen
#enhypen x yn#enha x reader#enhypen#jay hard thoughts#jay hard hours#enha jay#enhypen jay fluff#enhypen jay angst#enhypen jay smut#enhypen jay x reader#jay enhypen#enhypen jay#park jongseong#enhypen jongseong#jongseong x reader#kpop smut
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
Getting woken up by his child
Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
A/N- Toji's part is from my previous blog
Sukuna
"Get out" Gripping the poor boy by his shoulders, only making him kick and squeak for you even more. He was sick and tired of his son coming to wake you up in the middle of the night. Especially when it wasn't anything important. He treasured his alone time with you, anywhere away from his offspring who did nothing but terrorizing him.
"Get off!" Trying to slap and kick his father, taking the boy out of the shared bedroom, dropping him onto the ground before closing the door on him. The pink haired man walked back to your sleeping body, smirking at the sound of his son's pleas.
Nanami-
"Why do you need mummy?" Rolling over to fair the fair haired toddler, who was climbing onto the bed, trying to use his legs as a handle bar. A giant grin appearing on his face as he saw his parent. "Papa!" Hands sticking out as he wanted to get on the bed. "Upsies" picking up the kid as he sat him on his chest. Gently pinching his cheek as he waited for a response. "Me hungry" pointing to himself as he expected food to appear. Sighing as he knew that he had to tend to his son's needs but didn't want to leave his beautiful wife. Sitting up as he slipped on some slippers, latching the kid onto his hip.
Geto-
Hands wrapped around your waist as he held you close, his chest touching your back. Feeling the light taps of someone on his shoulders, glancing back to see who the culprit was. None other than his daughter. "Dad" tugging on his hair as it was the closest. "What is it sweetheart?" It had to be pretty important to disturb his sleep. "I wanna sleep in here." Not bothering to put up a fuss as he opened up the blanket towards her, quickly slipping under the covers with her toy. Letting out a puff of air as he felt the her body warmth rub against his back.
Gojo-
The feeling of hands slapping his face woke him up. The infamous grin of his son being the first sight to his day. "What the-" grabbing the child's hand as he inspected it, seeing the fresh colour of blue paint along his hand, knowing that it only meant that it was on his face. Sitting up as he grabbed the closest reflective item, seeing the blue paint adorning his face. His surroundings come to light as he scanned the room, hand prints falling upon nearly every surface he could reach. Knowing that you'd freak if you saw the mess he made. "Isn't blue your favourite colour daddy?" He knew exactly what he was doing with the teasing.
Toji-
The feeling of the duvet being pulled off him as he felt a light weight crawl onto his chest, opening his eyes to see the little black haired girl crawling onto his chest, he onesie somehow falling off her. Watching as she fell off onto the bed, slowly making her way over to you, she didn't even notice that he father was awake.
Standing up as she tried to keep her balance, falling over each time till she made her way to you. Hands falling onto your covered face. Growing annoyed as he saw how you slept so peacefully only to be woken up to your needy daughter, especially since you needed the rest because you always took care of her whilst he worked.
"Leave ya' mother alone" dragging the small baby off you. Much to her dismay as she felt her chubby clothed legs being dragged away. "Ma-ma" crying for you already as she felt his calloused hands grab her. Throwing her onto his chest, holding her legs down to make sure she didn't try to escape. "What do you want?" More like an order to respond, knowing that she probably couldn't say it since she was around 14 months old.
"Mama" pointing to your sleeping body, pouting her lips as she really wanted you. Sighing in defeat since he'd have to leave the comfort of his bed.
#gojo fluff#geto fluff#sukuna fluff#toji fluff#nanami fluff#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#gojo satoru#geto suguru#sukuna ryomen#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk#���𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊
434 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mrs Hangman
Jake Seresin and his wife have an incredibly healthy sex life. That's how they find themselves role-playing as strangers in a bar, meeting for the first time.
Warnings: porn without plot, allusion to cheating (but not cheating), role-playing (married couple pretending to be strangers), oral (male!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), hickies, p in v, unprotected, not beta read
2k
She was in her prettiest dress, one her husband had bought her for their fifth anniversary. It hugged her in all of the right places, the colour complimenting all of her features in the most perfect way.
If there was something her husband knew, it was what she'd look good in.
She sipped on her drink, some sort of expensive martini, as she looked atthe men sat around her in the bar. But none of them were what she was looking for.
Until a man in a casual shirt, a pair of jeans and dog tags around his neck walked up to her. "Hey there, Georgeous," he said, gesturing to the bartender to get him another drink.
She sipped at her martini as she looked at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, trying to sound unimpressed. But she couldn’t hide that she was impressed. A pretty face and, God, that voice. He was so tall, and the way his shirt hugged his arms.
"You can," he said, sitting down beside her. "By letting me buy you a drink."
She threw her drink back, swallowing the rest of the liquid and placing her martini glass on the bar top. "Sure," she said, her manicured finger moving around the rim of the glass.
He ordered her another martini. "I'm Jake," he said, holding out his hand. She took it and shook, offering her his own name.
When she pushed her hair behind her ear, she revealed her pretty, dangling silver earrings. "I like these," he said, gently touching them.
"Thanks," she replied, wearing a sultry smile. My husband bought them for me. But she didn’t say that last bit. That would have shattered the illusion.
"Look," Jake said as the drinks were put down in front of them. "I know you're not here it sit around and look pretty," he said, voice full of confidence.
She hummed as she wiped the lipstick stain from her new drink. "You're right, Jake. I'm not just here to sit around and looked pretty." She leaned closer, pressing her red lips against his ear. "I'm here to get fucked like a whore."
The way he kissed her after that. It stole all of the breath from her lungs and certainly messed up her lipstick. But she didn’t much care as she wrapped her hands around his neck, his own hands coming to mess up her hair.
It was hot and heavy, and she wanted more.
But she pulled away and swiped her thumb over his bottom lip. "Let me go and fix myself up," she whispered and pecked his cheek.
Jake sat by the bar as she grabbed her purse and walked over to the bathroom. While she was in there, Jake finished his only drink for the night. She touched up her lipstick and did what she could with her hair.
Checking herself over one last time, she made her way back to Jake. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked back over to the bar.
Jake couldn't deny that she looked gorgeous. But then she wrapped her fingers around the chain attached to his dog tags and, fuck, he'd never been so hard in his life. He stood up when she lightly tugged, and walked out of the bar, him following her like a dog on a leash.
He didn't need to tell her that he was staying in a hotel. She followed him through the lobby and into the elevator, letting him press the button for his floor.
If there were cameras in the elevator, they didn't much care. They were all over each other. His fingers dragged the bottom of her skirts up, not quite exposing anything just yet.
The elevator doors slid open and he pulled her down the corridor to his hotel room. The minute he had her inside, she was against the shut door, his lips attached to her neck. The little noises she was letting out were music to his ears.
He groaned, his body pressed against her own. She could feel him, hard through his jeans, pressing against his neck. It had her reaching down to cup him through the denim.
Jake pulled his lips away from her neck, throwing his head back in a groan. He temporarily released his hold on her and she sank to her knees, working on unbuttoning his jeans.
She freed Jake from his jeans and wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. His fingers wrapped around her hair, not pulling as she moved herself forward and pressed a kiss to his cock.
She pulled back and looked at her handiwork. The lipstick stain on his cock; it was so fucking pretty.
"You little devil," Jake said through a groan, lightly tugging at her hair in a way that had her groaning, bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
This time, she wrapped her lips around his cock. She sucked at the tip, tongue swirling. He threw his head back, eyes closed as he let groans escape his lips. She hummed against him, and the feeling was like no other.
She took all of him into her mouth, breathing through her nose as she went as far as she could. Her eyes watered as she held him there for a moment, trying to get herself back under control.
As soon as she had her breathing under control, she began moving. She moved her lips up and down his cock bobbing her head. Jake tried to keep his hips still, he really did, but it was harder than it sounded.
He slowly bucked his hips. It was so small, likely he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. But, when she gagged, he stopped and pulled himself out of her mouth. "Sorry, gorgeous," he said and took her hand to pull her to her feet.
Jake swiped his thumb under her lip, gathering up the mess of lipstick, matching her movements from her bar. "My turn," he said and picked her up.
Her legs wrapped around his mid section as he carried her over to the bed. His muscles rippled under her fingers as she dragged her nails over his clothed back.
He deposited her on the bed and pushed the skirts of her pretty dressed. "No underwear?" He asked, his fingers touching her thighs. "You really were looking to get fucked like a whore, weren't you?"
She covered her face in embarrassment, but Jake pulled her hands away. "It's okay, Gorgeous," he said. "I got you."
He pulled her up and unzipped the back of her dressed. Jake took a minute to feel the material, the satin under his fingertips. He pulled it down over her hips and discarded it on the floor.
There was some level of power imbalance as he stood over her, completely dressed while she laid on the hotel sheets, wearing nothing.
She let out a whine as his thumbs touched the underside of her breasts. He circled his thumb around her nipples and let his gentle touch moved her down stomach.
His touch to her thighs were soft as he parted them and climbed between them. The feel of his lips against the skin of her thighs had her locking her legs around his head, pulling him close.
He kissed her lips and ran his tongue through her folds. She cried out as he looked at her, looked at the way she used her handle to muffle her sounds.
He wrapped his arms around her thighs and dove in, nose brushing her clit as he moved his tongue against her hole. She thrashed about, tossing her head from side to side as she cried his name again and again and again.
His hands gripped her, bound to leave a mark. The thought had him smiling against her cunt. Her legs shook against his head and, when she began babbling out something close to 'I'm coming' left her lips, Jake pulled away.
She released him, giving him a moment to shed his clothes. But, while she watched him get undressed, watched him reveal the expanse of muscle that made his body, she couldn't help but miss the feel of him, warm against her.
But, before too long, he was back on top of her, connecting his lips to her own in a rushed, feverish kiss. She ran her nails down his back as he kissed her, his hips rolling against hers.
She tugged on his hair, pulling him back. "Fuck me," she said breathlessly.
That was all Jake needed. Her head his cock and he moved forward, slowly and gently pushing through her folds. A gasp left her lips, her nails stilling against him.
He buried his face against her neck as he began moving against her. His grip on her tight as he moved his body against her own. It was slow and gentle and sweet.
But it didn't stay that way. Before too long, Jakes hips were snapping against her own, holding her thighs around his waist to keep her close. It was animalistic the way he was fucking her, his lips feverishly kissing the skin of her neck.
She cried out, a continuous string of babbling. Jake had never heard such pretty noises in his life. If he could have played them over and over again, he would have. And that high pitched whine when she came around him, cunt squeezing him.
His jaw was tight as he slowed his pace, hips rolling against her own as he chased after his own high. And, when he came, painting her insides with his cum, she left those deep scratch marks in his back, ones she'd wear with pride.
Jake collapsed beside her. He was breathless as he touched her stomach, fingertips soft. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said and sat up.
She climbed off the bed with him and sat with him while they waited for the bath to fill. "We should do this again sometime," she said, taking out her earrings.
When the bath was full, she climbed in, and Jake sat beside her. He cleaned the sweat from her body, cleaned the mess from between her thighs. He rubbed warm water and soap over the marks he had left on her skin.
As soon as they were clean and dry, they climbed under the covers, tangling their body's together. Jake wrapped his arms around her and she laid her head on his chest, exhaustion taking over.
***
Somebody was shaking his shoulder. "Jake, honey," she said, trying to waking him up. "C'mon, we got to go."
He groaned and rolled over, pulling her closer. "Another hour, please," he grumbled, touching her head with his lips.
"No, baby. We've got to and pick up the kids."
Jake finally opened his eyes. He sat up and looked at his wife. "Fine," he said through a groan and picked her dress up from the floor. The dress he had bought for her on their anniversary, along with those pretty earrings.
"Was last night fun?" He asked as he began getting dressed.
She nodded her head, reaching up to touch her hickies. "I like pretending you're some hot stranger in a bar," she said and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Jake kissed his wife's lips. "How about you let your hot husband take you home?"
She let out a laugh and kissed him again. "We've got to pick up those little terrors from your parents house," she said and poked him in the chest. "They get it from you, you know?"
"And that's why I'm so damn proud of them." He kissed her hand and led her out of the hotel room.
#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin smut#jake seresin x reader smut#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin#hangman#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman smut#hangman x you#hangman x reader smut#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun hangman
673 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑
summary: 16.1k words — you find out who your new tutor is and set up a tutoring session with them. but there are certain people around you who don’t seem particularly pleased with your new company.
notes: yes, i am in the process of changing the theme for liar, liar. the previous chapters still have the red filter/colour (‘cause i’m lazy lmao) but will be changed soon! :) edit: all of it has been changed now! anyway, i have a feeling you guys won’t like this chapter much… for specific reasons, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!
tw: swearing, mentions of death, imaginary funerals, kidnapping, and starvation
i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.
previous chapter :)
next chapter :)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
"yuji, you're giving us nothing to work on," said nobara, her chin balanced on her hand, held up by the elbow she kept on the table. "i sent you the account so you can look at it yourself!" yuji protested, pointing at your phone placed on the centre of the round table.
nobara held a hand up and looked around with a grimace. "okay — why are you yelling?"
before yuji could answer, with a pointless response no doubt, you intervened with downturned lips, unimpressed. "why would you even tell us this if you didn't wanna discuss it?"
"'cause it's rude!"
the four of you were hunched over around the cafeteria table, the usual din of voices creating a background hum that you'd all grown used to. your phone was placed in the centre, like some kind of prized artifact, its screen aglow with yuji's latest discovery, something he had learned from junpei the other day.
a few students nearby shot glances in your direction, perhaps noting the way nobara's voice was dipping lower and the way yuji kept throwing up his hands in protest. megumi sat beside you with his usual impassive expression, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, indulging in pointless gossip. even so, you could tell he did seem mildly intrigued by the new info.
during sophomore year, an instagram account had been opened by an anonymous person at the school, surrounding its posts and content on potential (or actual) relationships — it went by the name @jujutsuhighships. it had been inactive during the spring semester last academic year, so you'd all believed it to be gone for good. perhaps the owner had grown tired of maintaining such an account. megumi suggested that they might have been finishing off their senior year at the time and left the school entirely; there was no point in running an account for a school they no longer attended.
you commended him with the idea of that theory, and it had been a plausible explanation at first, for some time...
before the account owner had posted a new image last week.
it was about jemma abrams and hallie gomez, both of whom were supposedly cheating on their partners with each other.
the issue here was that the three of you had been patiently waiting for the juicy details, but yuji, despite having brought up the topic entirely, seemed reluctant to dig into the gossip itself, apparently too kind to do so. it made you want to grab him by his unnatural, pink hair and shake him where he sat: why bring it up if you aren't gonna let us revel in it?
"oh my god, just forget it," nobara groaned, pulling out her own phone and tapping at it aggressively. "i'll just ask my cheer girls to fill us in. stephanie has a mutual friend with jemma."
"what if the account's wrong?" megumi suggested, speaking for the first time in a while. when you all turned to face him, he frowned. "does no one remember what it said about yuji last year?"
the boy in question visibly shivered. it seemed that he himself had not forgotten, and why would he? that was a serious accusation, you noted in your head thoughtfully.
when choso had come to the school to walk yuji to an external football club at some ordinary wednesday in sophomore year, a later post had been made by @jujutsuhighships claiming that yuji was having questionable relations with a 'much older, tattooed man', and then attached an image of choso and yuji walking on one side of the crosswalk together.
"the account makes mistakes all the time," said nobara, shrugging. one glance at yuji had her visibly grimacing. "really disgusting mistakes sometimes, sure, but look at the way they post — i don't think it's meant to be accurate. they post about relationships we know of, random pairings they think would look nice, and then random people on the side —"
"— like you and malakai," you added helpfully.
she faced you with sharp, narrowed eyes.
"y/n, i'm going to stab you if you keep mentioning that."
you tried (and failed) to mask your grin. "but i just helped prove your point."
"that wasn't a mistake," she corrected you with a slam of her hand on the table. people walking by glanced at the back of her head with visible confusion; her eyes remained glued to your face nonetheless. "that was a crime."
she continued aggressively and violently tapping on her phone, her lips in a straight line as she glared down at the screen.
"that stupid owner's lucky i'm not pressing charges," she mumbled, and it sounded as though she were speaking more to herself than to you. you couldn't blame her — that was also a nasty accusation against your friend.
as she furiously pressed at her phone, shooting yuji a glare when he dared to laugh at her expression, your own device vibrated against the table, drawing your attention. the screen lit up with a new notification, the small preview showing a subject line that immediately caught your eye: Regarding Your Recent Inquiry.
you grabbed the phone, your heart beating dramatically against your chest as you read the sender's name — kento nanami.
"guys, kento just emailed me," you mumbled, opening it up before rapidly averting your gaze, slamming your phone back down onto the table with a gasp, face down. "it's about the tutor thingy. quick! guess who it is!"
yuji sat up, scratching the skin behind his ear. "it has to be megumi."
you raised a brow. "kento said —"
"i know what he said," yuji cut through you with a shrug. "but megumi's one of the best in the class. why would he give you anyone else when you're so bad at math?"
you considered that for a moment: yuji had a fair point.
he had unexpectedly gone on:
"like, sooooo bad. hopeless. like super-duper, really, incredibly —"
you tried to kick him beneath the table, but he predicted your attack and hurriedly took back his long, outstretched legs.
"shut up," you snapped, annoyed. your eyes darted to nobara, who had long since abandoned her phone now. "what about you?"
she twirled a strand of her short hair, lips pursed as she thought aloud.
"mmm," she hummed, looking at the high ceiling. "god knows. probably megumi, but i'm gonna say maki."
that surprised you, and it clearly showed, for nobara felt the need to clarify her answer.
"it doesn't have to be someone from our class, right? mr nanami didn't set a limit except for the fact that it can't be megumi," she explained carefully. "and maki's only redeeming subjects, except for biology, is math."
that was a fair point too, you hadn't considered it.
"okay i'm gonna check now," you smiled. "i think it's gonna be ayesha, 'cause she's also super smart. and i'm not asking for your opinion, porcupine, 'cause you're still adamant about not tutoring me."
you didn't even look at him as he responded, your eyes on your phone.
"good," he'd said, his tone sharp and snippy.
———————————
Dear Y/n L/n,
I hope my email finds you well.
As discussed, I have decided who your tutor for Math will be. After careful consideration, I have chosen Noritoshi Kamo to be your tutor. Please ensure you comply and work with him to secure at LEAST a pass grade.
No, you may not request to have Megumi Fushiguro as your tutor, my decision is final.
Regards, Mr Nanami
———————————
you scowled.
"who the hell said i'd ask for megumi fushi-angry to be my tutor anyway?" you grumbled, nose scrunched.
you could feel megumi's piercing glare on the side of your cheek. you didn't care, for you had greater issues to deal with.
"noritoshi kamo," you told them, extending your arm across the table to show yuji and nobara (megumi had leaned in from her left) the email.
their pupils darted right to left and back again, several times as they travelled further down the screen. you watched them with furrowed brows, displeased.
"ah, i forgot about kamo," said yuji, eyes wide at the revelation. he combed his fingers through his hair, apparently in awe at the identity of your new tutor. "he's also top of the class... shit, how did i forget? he wasn't even studying for that one exam last year and still passed with an A."
"he let me copy off his homework a few times," you commented, looking down at your phone screen and then finally switching it off when it dawned on you: nonchalant, angry kamo was going to be your math tutor. you were unsure of what to make of that fact. "eh, could've been worse, right?"
you watched nobara carefully.
your mind still wondered back to the girl that kamo was supposedly interested in, and ruling yourself out of the picture for obvious reasons — like the fact that you barely ever spoke to one another — nobara and kamo shared quite a few classes together, the ones that you did not share with her.
and the fact that they'd gone to the same elementary school had also been a great supporting factor.
she didn't look too bothered by kamo being your tutor, her interest fleeting as she scowled at you.
"if he lets you copy," she began, critiquing him already, "how are you supposed to learn?"
you response was slow and careful, as though attempting not to set off a ticking time bomb. "in his defence, he wasn't my tutor at the time..."
nobara's brows furrowed, and her head tilted slightly as she stared at you, a look of genuine confusion present in her narrowed eyes, as if trying to decipher your thoughts telepathically. you held her gaze, watching as the quizzical spark in them flashed, mounting irritation beneath her clear curiosity.
yuji, seated across the table, shifted his gaze back and forth between you and nobara, clearly trying to gauge if this was just some elaborate joke or if he had missed something in the conversation. each movement of his head seemed more exaggerated, his mouth slightly ajar as if on the verge of asking a question, only to stop short each time, uncertain of what exactly to say. meanwhile, megumi sat beside you, his silence growing heavier with each passing second, and his expression (though blank) conveyed an almost palpable sense of bewilderment as he watched the exchange unfold, pink lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes, mirroring nobara's confusion, remained fixed on you.
"what?" nobara voiced, brows raised at you.
you shared one look with yuji before you let it all out:
"are you and kamo an item?"
and it was at that moment, you knew you should have communicated this to her in private, for her voice had travelled across every table in the large cafeteria, the sounds of movement slowing down, the chatter quieting down, the laughter absent.
"HUH?"
"it's not her," said megumi, sounding alarmed as he shrunk in his seat. he looked uncomfortable with the amount of eyes on your table, cheeks tinging pink as he pulled his shirt up to cover the lower half of his face. "it's tsumiki."
"tsumiki?" you whispered, stupefied. you looked up, suddenly aware of the hundreds of eyes on you and your friends, including kamo's, who was carelessly watching from the table across yours. you felt your neck warm as you lowered your voice even further. "would've been helpful if you said that earlier," you hissed.
and nobara...
nobara looked beyond offended.
perhaps not as much as she did when you'd intentionally mention @jujutsuhighships and their sudden post about her and malakai, but still offended enough to be taken seriously by the rest of you on that table.
"let me make one thing clear," she began, her gaze fiery, "i would never be attracted to that guy."
yuji shook his head, perplexed. "but you're rude to him," he said, his tone the epitome of bewilderment, as though trying to find the right pieces of a puzzle to put together.
nobara shot him a vicious look. you could have sworn you'd seen him cower slightly.
"i'm rude to you," she reminded him, venom dripping with each word, each syllable, each letter she uttered. "does that mean i like you? ew!"
"i thought..." mumbled yuji, brows contorted in doubt and uncertainty, "that girls... they're mean to the guys they like...?"
"well you thought wrong," nobara snapped angrily. she then pointed at megumi, expression borderline violent. "look at him! he's mean to everyone, does that mean he likes them?"
yuji frowned. "megumi's not a girl —"
"said no one ever," you coughed.
megumi wasted no time kicking you beneath the table. you shot him a fierce look, hitting him back with a clenched fist.
your gaze wandered back to kamo across the cafeteria, his steady eyes meeting yours just as you looked up, and you found yourself frowning, not out of embarrassment, but in silent self-reflection, realising that you had completely misread the situation with nobara. the thought of kamo and tsumiki together definitely seemed strange at first, an unlikely pair with her quiet warmth and his distant behaviour — but somehow, it was an arrangement that you supposed almost made sense.
almost.
it was still weird, no matter how many times you repeated it like a mantra in your own head.
there was a softness in his gaze as he looked away, and you found yourself reconsidering the assumptions you'd made.
it didn't matter anyway — you had to set up a tutoring session with him sooner or later, you concluded, silently standing up. might as well get it over and done with.
"i'll be right back," you told your friends casually.
"where are you going?" megumi questioned, looking mildly curious despite his attempts to look unbothered.
you gestured over to kamo's table.
"my new math tutor," you answered, before throwing megumi a scowl. "which isn't you by the way, 'cause you didn't wanna do anything about being my tutor."
megumi averted his gaze, absentmindedly turning his phone on and scrolling through random articles online while simultaneously jutting his chin in kamo's direction
"scuttle's waiting for you," he stated, bored.
you grabbed your schoolbag, feeling its heavy weight in your hand as you swung it towards megumi with just enough force to make him wince and raise an arm defensively. the thud echoed in the small space between you, and a faint, barely-there smirk pulled at your lips as you saw him grumble something under his breath, glaring up at you as though you had committed blasphemy.
tossing the bag back onto your seat with a casual flick, you straightened up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, and cast a quick glance at kamo's table: he was sitting with chad, silently nodding every once in a while as the blonde spoke to him animatedly.
steeling yourself, you headed towards their table, and it was as though the two had sensed you drawing nearer, for both their heads had turned to face you, brows raised.
chad raised a hand; kamo did nothing.
"hey, y/n," said chad, watching you as you sat across him, a respectable amount of space between yourself and kamo. "what's up?"
you returned his look with a warm smile.
"not much, just needed to speak with kamo," you replied, letting your gaze shift over to kamo, catching his eye for a brief moment.
chad's thick brows rose, eyes widened like he'd finally put two complicated final pieces of a puzzle together.
"oh yeah, since he's your math tutor now," he added, flashing his friend a playful grin. "that's so cool, dude."
you raised a curious brow, tilting your head as you looked between the two of them, intrigued.
"ken— mr nanami told you?" you asked, eyes shifting back and forth as though searching their expressions for confirmation.
you were well aware of the email he'd sent to you, confirming that kamo would be your tutor, but you'd assumed that you were going to have to be the one to communicate that to kamo instead.
wow, you thought to yourself in your head, unsurprised. kento seriously had truly given the decision a lot of 'careful consideration'.
"he told me in business class yesterday," said kamo, shrugging.
your expression had shifted to one of delight.
"and you agreed?"
kamo's expression had remained unmoving. it reminded you of the face freeze episode from spongebob, except you were certain that kamo truly did not care about how careless he looked a hundred percent of the time.
"he said it'd give me extra credit," he told you honestly. "and i could put it down as volunteering hours in my college application."
your expression faltered, the initial excitement softening into something closer to resignation. though you appreciated kamo's honesty, you couldn't ignore the slight surprise that had tugged at you. his bluntness, while straightforward, was different from what you were used to with your friends like nobara or megumi. with them, bluntness came with familiarity; here, it felt different, but perhaps it was because of the fact that — reminding yourself of this once again — you had never properly held a conversation with the careless, unbothered boy.
chad, watching the exchange, shook his head with a small, bemused frown, apparently reading more into the situation than kamo seemed to have done.
"wow," you sighed, shaking your head in disappointment, "only for extra credit, and not 'cause a friend of a friend needs help?"
kamo raised a brow at you.
"friend of a friend?" he repeated.
helpfully, chad spoke up. "that's me, man."
kamo took one look at you and relented, pulling his phone out and sliding it over to you, eyes half-lidded.
"sure," he'd said, as you eyed the device warily. "put your number in, we can start tomorrow."
you picked up kamo's phone from the table, absentmindedly tilting your hands forward to inspect it. predictably, it was as bland as the boy who owned it — a plain navy case devoid of any distinguishing marks or personality, with a slightly scratched screen that suggested it had been dropped a few times but never enough to shatter. the wallpaper, visible for a fleeting second before the screen dimmed, was just black. not a minimalistic design, not a landscape or a photo— just the default black screen.
it felt fitting somehow, matching kamo's neutral demeanour.
you typed your number in with quick, efficient taps, and for a moment, you considered saving your contact with something clever, if only to spice up the device a little.
seriously, you thought to yourself, as you wrote your name in, it's worse than uncle ogi's.
you slid it back over, smiling at him when he picked it up, his brow twitching at your display name:
<kamotionless's student3
he didn't say anything, only looking at you as though you had grown two heads.
you watched kamo's expression, your grin only growing as a faint flicker of something crossed his otherwise stoic face; you weren't quite sure what it was, but you concluded that it had to be something in between irritation and intrigue.
feeling rather pleased with your handiwork, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms in quiet triumph, and chad, ever the instigator, leaned over to sneak a peek at the screen in kamo's hand. his amusement was infectious, and you couldn't help but join in, watching as kamo's brow furrowed ever so slightly — a rare crack in his expression.
"sorry, man, but she got you," laughed chad, as kamo merely slipped his phone into his pocket with a sigh, his lack of response betraying nothing but mild exasperation.
"my history class is cancelled tomorrow," said kamo, sitting up in his seat and peering back at you. "what about yours?"
"same," you nodded, trying to remember the layout of your timetable. it was still a new one that you had yet to properly get used to. "so before physics tomorrow?"
it was settled.
tomorrow, in the hour before physics, you'd have your first-ever tutoring session with kamo. the idea felt strangely weighty, though you couldn't quite pinpoint why. perhaps it was because of the fact that during cancelled sessions, the ones you shared with nobara would be spent with messing around in the girls' toilets, forcing your way into yuji's classes, reminding megumi how much you 'missed' him outside of his classes. it had never been spent studying with kamo.
regardless, you'd made up your mind to make it work, and as you stood to leave his table and go back to yours, being polite enough to wave at him and chad, you were surprised to find that you didn't quite dread the idea of noritoshi kamo being your new math tutor.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
the classroom was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the occasional scratch of your pencil against paper. sunlight filtered weakly through the partially drawn blinds, casting slanted lines across the tiled floor and the battered desks around you.
you had taken an unoccupied classroom with kamo for your first tutor session, but only after discovering the library to be utterly useless — the librarian didn't enjoy partnered work that involved talking, evidently, so you'd silently taken your leave and discovered several empty classes to use.
kamo sat beside you, phone in hand, the muted glow of the screen reflecting on his impassive face. though his attention seemed fixed on whatever he was scrolling through, every few minutes, his gaze flickered towards your notebook, scanning the equations you were working on with a measured glance. it was a strange rhythm — the way he balanced distraction with diligence — but it seemed to work, his occasional corrections or affirming nods offering just enough guidance without breaking the silence.
you shifted in your seat, pausing for a moment to reread the problem before scribbling down your next attempt, but there was an itch somewhere in the back of your mind.
you were bored.
you could only so much math before your brain started hallucinating numbers and swirls on the floor where only the hard concrete should be.
eyeing the blank whiteboard, a lightbulb flickered on over your head.
"what if," you began, spinning the pencil in your hand, "you taught me all this stuff using the whiteboard?"
kamo placed his phone on the table dismissively. "no."
you sighed, brows furrowed and lips downturned ever so slightly.
"please?" you tried again.
and to your surprise, you watched as he let out a long sigh, apparently relenting to your demand, his hands gripping at the table as he pushed himself back, the creak of the chair against the floorboards scratching that pesky itch in your brain.
"kamo —" you began, unsure of what was happening before you.
"don't have second thoughts now," he said, picking up a red board-marker from the unoccupied desk and pulling off its lid.
you blinked in shock.
"i'm not!" you told him, sitting up in excitement as he actually wrote more equations for you to work through on the empty board. "i thought i'd have to persuade you a bit more... is all."
you watched his back, watched as one hand scribbled example demonstrations on the board as the other raised itself to scratch at his head, his silky hair tied in a low bun.
kamo turned around and tapped the board with the back of the pen.
"work through these and let me know if you're stuck... again," he'd told you, securing the lid on the pen with a satisfying click that sounded around the empty classroom.
again, you heard his voice repeat in your head, frowning as he peered back at you, expressionless.
"i'm sorry, were you expecting someone who already knew the content?" you shot back, your arms folded over the table as you leaned up to press your front against the edge. "and i asked you to teach me using the board, not just write a bunch of equations on there — i could do that any time i want."
kamo let out a deep, deliberate sigh, his shoulders rising and falling in a way that suggested equal parts reluctance and resignation. you waited patiently, his expression shifting ever so slightly, a faint flicker of annoyance crossing his otherwise unreadable features before settling back into his usual impassivity, and you could barely hold back the grin tugging at your lips, your excitement bubbling under your skin as you watched him turn back towards the board.
for a fleeting moment, you were convinced he was about to toss the marker aside and return to his seat, but instead, he raised it again and began writing more deliberately this time, the marker squeaking faintly against the smooth surface.
the realization hit you all at once: he was actually going to teach you just because you had asked. your heart leapt, and you sat up straighter, practically buzzing with anticipation. this was better than you'd hoped — who knew noritoshi kamo was such a people-pleased?
certainly not you.
he explained what he was doing as he went, putting you on the spot and asking you questions, going back to write on the board, highlighting your mistakes. it was as though you were having a one-to-one class with a genius.
he placed the marker back down on the desk when you had finally grasped the topic.
"had no idea you could be so compliant," you grinned, raising your brows teasingly.
kamo stared at you, inert and idle.
"don't say it like that," he told you, looking sullen. "i see the way you react when yuji doesn't listen to you," he added, pulling back the chair beside you to sit on it again. "i don't really want my hair pulled out of my scalp."
"oh i can tell," you laughed, eyeing his bun. "it looks healthier than half the girls' at the school. you take advice from nobara or something? you could give her a run for her money, y'know."
not that you'd ever tell her that.
kamo averted his gaze, some type of emotion you couldn't quite describe passing by his features quicker than you could pinpoint. he looked like he was remembering something almost traumatic.
"something like that," he settled on saying, his voice low and dismissive.
you picked up your pencil again, leaning over your notebook as the quiet settled back in, save for the soft scratch of graphite against paper. the equations in front of you demanded attention, but your mind wandered, replaying kamo's fleeting expression like a puzzle you couldn't quite solve.
the classroom itself, as you worked silently, felt heavy with the kind of quiet that wasn't entirely uncomfortable, just contemplative.
and yet, the stillness had been disrupted as kamo's voice cut through the air — low, casual, but carrying just enough curiosity to pull your focus back to him.
"ryan sent me some old post from that ship account."
you looked up, watching him show you his phone where his friend had, indeed, sent him a post from @jujutsuhighships.
you raised your brows in pleasant surprise, a grin tugging at your lips at the video playing before you. the account had taken what yuji had posted on twitter years ago and revived it a few months ago:
"toge!" yuji's enthusiastic voice sounded from the speakers on kamo's phone. he jammed the camera in middle-school-toge's face at the gym where the basketball players were having their first play of the season. "if you and y/n are together, does that — that makes me, like, your brother-in-law, right?"
toge shrugged. "sure."
and then the camera was a blur of motion, for yuji had whipped the camera around to find you, sitting on a bench beside nobara, who was sandwiched between yourself and megumi.
your brows raised in amazement: you had almost forgotten about nobara's dark hair, the natural colour she'd sported before eventually dying it to become something more brighter. you thought she looked flattering both ways.
"y/n, when did you and toge get together?" yuji called out loudly over the chatter, cheers, and laughter.
you made a face as though deep in thought. it was fake, you knew it, your friends knew it, but funnily enough, nobody else knew it.
"since elementary school," you said, throwing the camera a thumbs up.
"was that before or after he told everyone you were a mermai—"
"megumi!"
the video ended abruptly.
kamo looked at you expectantly, brow raised.
"don't look at me like that," you responded, looking mock abashed, drawing doodles in the corner of your notebook. "why's ryan sending you a video of me anyway?"
kamo shrugged.
"told the group chat i was gonna tutor you," he explained candidly. "some of them started digging old stuff back up. like this."
the realisation left a ripple of amusement bubbling in your chest, spreading to the corners of your lips as you tried to suppress a grin. you found it hilariously ironic that kamo's friends had taken on the role of internet detectives, and the thought of them collectively scouring old posts about you (there weren't many, you had to remember) and then tossing them into their group chat as if it were their sacred duty to find out who their friend was tutoring like you were some criminal, was almost endearing.
almost.
there was something undeniably funny about kamo, usually so reserved, being at the mercy of his friends' efforts to humiliate both him and, indirectly, you. it wasn't lost on you that they'd essentially done his homework for him — and you didn't mind, especially when it meant revisiting moments that always confused everyone around you, for the relationship between toge and yourself was non-existent — not that anyone who had asked knew that fact, of course.
"is it true?" kamo had asked, the video replaying in the background again.
you threw him a smile, swirling the end of your pencil around his face teasingly.
"wouldn't you like to know?" you hummed, before chuckling at his scowl. "nah, just kidding. it's true."
he raised a sceptical brow at you. you leaned in, cupping you mouth as though anyone else were in the room to hear you.
"it's not, we just leave it unspoken 'cause it confuses people," you whispered lowly, before pressing your back against your chair again, beaming at him. "it's true! toge and i have been a thing for years now!"
kamo looked visibly confused. it only made you laugh harder.
"you're smart," you voiced, spinning the pencil in your hand, unaware. "who do you think is behind that ship account?"
kamo's gaze drifted upwards, a subtle furrow in his brow, tapping a finger lightly on the table, slouching in his chair. his expression didn't give much away — calm and composed as always — but the faint narrowing of his eyes suggested he was running through possibilities, weighing each name and motive like a detective in a silent deliberation.
"no idea," he finally replied, untroubled.
you furrowed your brows at him, unimpressed.
"that was anti-climactic."
he shrugged. "they're good at remaining anonymous, whoever they are."
you hummed in response, agreeing, the corners of your mouth twitching in subtle amusement.
it made sense, after all — whoever was behind the account clearly knew how to stay hidden, and there was something oddly impressive about their ability to remain anonymous despite the chaos they stirred. you found yourself intrigued by their cleverness, even if you'd never admit it aloud, and you wondered, just for a moment, if the person running it might be someone you knew better than you realised.
you were unsure of how you'd react if it happened to be one of your friends.
"well i know who it can't be," you said, serious.
kamo glanced at you expectantly; you looked fixedly back at him.
"malakai," you stated confidently.
kamo rolled his eyes, his shoulders deflating.
"who would have thought?" he responded sarcastically, making it sound more like a statement than a question.
"certainly not you, 'cause you were waiting for my response," you jested, biting your inner cheeks to hide your obvious grin.
"whoever they are," kamo began, sounding solemn, "they've got a shit ton of haters. someone's gonna unmask them soon."
you laughed at his sombre expression. "you say it like it's a prophecy." though arguably, you concluded in your head, kamo sported a grave look under any circumstance. "they seem pretty tame though, nothing wild has happened yet."
"define 'wild'."
your thoughts wandered for a moment, trailing after his question.
what even defined 'wild' in this context?
you supposed it would mean some kind of messy fallout — maybe public confrontations or friendships shattered over a cleverly edited video. but as far as you knew, the ship account seemed to toe a fine line, thriving off drama without pushing it into complete chaos. it made up theories, sure, but would always make sure to mention in the captions whether it was true or not, whether it was alleged or not.
it was a curious balance, really, and you found yourself marveling at their ability to walk that tightrope. but perhaps 'wild' wasn't about what had happened yet, rather what could happen, and you couldn't help but imagine how thin that line might grow before someone, inevitably, fell.
"something unbelievable," you explained out loud. "something so crazy, no one would believe it. like, information that's almost certain to be false."
"so... you and tog—"
"— lower your voice —" you hissed, looking over your shoulder with wide eyes.
"— there's no one in this room but us —"
"still!"
kamo had raised his hands up in faux surrender. "right, my bad."
you looked around again.
indeed, the classroom was empty, but the whole toge-and-you situation had been running strong for years. you couldn't risk it being ruined by kamo's big mouth.
once you were certain of security, you nodded at him to continue.
"so you and toge?" he repeated, but this time, with a voice you could only catch by leaning in.
"but that's believable," you argued calmly, the pencil in your hand spinning with ease. "even you believed it."
kamo shook his head. "i didn't."
you grinned, smug. "you believed it enough to ask me about it, no?"
he averted his gaze, a silent movement of defeat.
"fair point," he stated, making your grin widen as your pencil spun faster between your fingers.
what he had said next, however, had resulted in multiple things happening at once.
"what about you and i?"
your pencil had fallen from between your fingers, clattering and rolling on the floor.
your breath caught for a moment, an involuntary reaction to his question, which hung in the air like a spark waiting to ignite.
a wave of warmth had surged up, pooling at the tips of your ears, a sensation both startling and unfamiliar. it wasn't embarrassment, exactly, you never felt that (with the sole exception of toji reminding you of how as a child, you strongly believed he was fat and not just buff) but something closer to a jolt of disbelief, as if his words had landed in a place you hadn't anticipated being struck. your fingers instinctively twitched towards the pencil that had slipped from your grasp, a physical reflex to anchor yourself against the ripple of surprise coursing through you.
for a heartbeat, you were rendered motionless, your mind fumbling over how to respond, caught between brushing it off and examining the peculiar weight his words carried...
or if they carried any weight at all. what if you were just reading too much into his suggestion? what if you were just being overly dramatic?
because kamo seemed just fine.
kamo looked as though he had just asked you about the weather forecast tomorrow. kamo did not seem as stupefied as you.
in fact, kamo looked as though he'd been startled by your reaction, as if it wasn't explainable.
and maybe it wasn't.
or perhaps it was.
you weren't so sure anymore.
he was the first to break the tense silence.
"it's a possibility," he'd said. again, speaking like it was an everyday topic, common knowledge, like one plus one equals two. "we'll be spending more time together with all this tutoring."
"yeah..." you mumbled, dazed.
your hands had flown up to your ears, and you kept it like that as you spoke, ignoring the odd look he'd sent you.
"it'd be crazy weird, actually," you said, reminding yourself of the fact that since you and tsumiki were like family, a rumour or crack-ship between yourself and kamo would be wrong on so many levels.
kamo was staring at your hands, brows furrowed slightly, but just enough to form a crease between them, showcasing his visible confusion.
"why are you —"
"oh, this?" you chortled, shrugging. his voice sounded muffled. "fall's coming soon. what do you think of me in earmuffs?"
and kamo had only tilted his head slightly, his bewilderment evident in the way his gaze flickered between your hands and your face, his lips parting as if he wanted to ask yet another question, but thought better of it.
"i —"
you interrupted him, panicked and hurried, for the warmth in your ears had not died down yet for some odd reason. it was too late to consider the fact that he would definitely not have noticed that you were slightly confounded if you hadn't rushed to stop the heat beneath your skin.
"i'd look great, right?" you beamed, unsure of why you just kept talking. "earmuffs and leg warmers, too!"
"i can't tell... your hands are in the way —"
"yeah... i'm using them as a visual..."
he didn't push after that, but his silence only heightened your awareness of the absurdity of your reaction. you could feel the tension pooling in the air, your heart beating just a little faster than it had any right to. his confusion mirrored your own internal turmoil, and yet, he seemed to take it all in stride, waiting for you to drop the act without pressuring you to explain yourself. you did not know what was happening, for the fluttering unease in your chest left you feeling strangely exposed, like a glass case filled with nerves and no cover.
the awkward moment stretched, then snapped as you both seemed to silently agree to let it pass.
clearing your throat, you busied yourself by retrieving your fallen pencil and opening your notebook. thankfully, kamo followed suit, his focus sliding back to the equations sprawled across the page, though he occasionally shot you a few glances. you told yourself it was to make sure that you weren't making any mistakes in your notebook, but you did not know how much you believed in that.
but by the time you had solved the next equation, it was as if the strange exchange had never happened, even though a faint trace of warmth lingered at the edges of your thoughts.
the hour had passed quicker than expected, and before you knew it, you and kamo were making your way to satoru's physics class.
it was convenient, for you had bumped into megumi along the way and hadn't even noticed it. not until he had — very elegantly — called out to you.
"oi, mermaid."
you whipped around on the spot, your expression sour as you glared at the tall boy standing by his locker with furrowed brows. from your peripheral vision, you could see that kamo had also halted.
"stop acting like a hood-rat and address a lady properly, porcupine," you scolded, eyeing him up and down with visible irritation.
"you answered though —"
"— and stop trying to act smart —"
"— it wasn't an act —"
"okay i'm leaving," you snapped, turning away and walking off. "c'mon, kamo."
you strode past him, internally pleased when he silently followed, and despite yourself, you still kept an ear out to listen to whatever your friend had to say.
"come to the open game next week," you heard megumi utter lowly. "you won't get kicked out this time 'cause your entry is authorised."
you turned around and gave him a thumbs up, your eyes narrowed due to the nickname he'd shamelessly given you in front of kamo. that had to be addressed at some point. megumi couldn't throw that around so carelessly anymore.
"i'll see you there, porcupine!" you responded brightly, walking off with kamo and tilting your head up to meet his gaze when he had remained staring down at you in mild curiosity. "what?"
"you ever gonna tell anyone what mermaid means?" he asked you, and the speed at which your expression had turned stony would beat record time.
"i'm taking it to my grave."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
satoru leaned against the doorframe of his classroom with his usual playful smile that showcased his effortless confidence, exuding an air of relaxed authority.
his tall frame cast a faint shadow over the polished floor, and the sunlight filtering through the windows seemed to catch on the edges of his stark white hair. both his arms rested at his sides where his hands had been shoved into the pockets of his pants, looking more relaxed than any teacher should.
the faintest hint of amusement curled at the corners of his mouth, acknowledging the steady stream of students entering with a faint nod or tilt of his head.
"melody, i see that piece of gum in your mouth," he commented slyly.
the student in question paused and threw a look at him, her shoulders drooping in disappointment as she started towards the small trashcan near his desk.
"don't spit it out," he said, watching her shake her head at him and walk over to her seat instead.
"what was the point of even saying that?" she mumbled, but she looked relieved nonetheless, dropping her bag onto the floor as she pulled herself forward in her stool.
satoru merely shrugged, turning back to the other sets of students entering the classroom.
"hey sir!"
"hi mr gojo."
"afternoon, sir."
"noah," satoru beamed, watching as the tall boy grinned up at him. "no liam today?"
"he's getting yelled at by miss utahime," noah answered with a laugh, pointing at the hallway behind him.
satoru's brows rows in surprise, though he did not look as though he expected anything less.
"'course he is," he chuckled, shaking his head with a toothy grin. "i'd go and save him, but i'd probably walk into a singing session."
the students gathered near the door burst into laughter at his casual jab at the other teacher. a couple of students exchanged knowing looks, clearly in on the running joke, while others shook their heads with amused disbelief at their teacher's brazen sense of humour, and satoru — entirely unfazed — wore an exaggeratedly innocent expression, as though he had no idea what could possibly be so funny.
his toothy grin had only started to falter and dim when he looked down the hallway, expecting to see noah and utahime, but met with the sight of you and kamo walking in together.
his head had followed you, doing a full one-eighty as you smiled at him and made your way to the table closest to his desk.
"hey, satoru," you'd causally greeted him, unaware of the twitch of his right eye when you invited kamo over to sit with you instead of the stool in dim corner at the other end of the classroom he usually sat in.
satoru broke the fourth wall with a grimace.
the only thing that stopped him from staring off into the distance, with that disgusted, annoyed look on his face, was yuji's voice, low and confused, speaking right into his teacher's ear.
"gojo?"
he slowly averted his gaze from the fourth wall to meet his student's eyes, wide with confusion and concern.
"what were you staring at?" yuji asked, his own eyes darting back off into the distance — once, twice, thrice — before looking up at satoru with curious, raised brows.
satoru only shook his head, kicking the door-stopper away and allowing the door to close behind him as he walked over to his desk, apparently disgruntled.
"nothing," he mumbled, jutting his chin at the vacant seat on your table, across from you and next to yuko ozawa, his grin slowly returning. "sit down, i have an announcement."
yuji's face fell instantly, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief as if he had just been hit with the worst news imaginable. you furrowed your brows at him as his shoulders visibly stiffened, his hand gripping at the edge of the desk as though steadying himself against some invisible force.
for a brief, comical moment, he looked utterly horrified, his mouth opening slightly before snapping shut again, leaving him in silent turmoil. you thought he looked like your pet goldfish that had tragically died years ago, as the rest of the classroom bustled with their usual chatter, oblivious to the small storm of emotions brewing in yuji's head.
"what the hell's wrong with you?" you voiced, but it did not seem to compute to your friend, who only seemed interested in your teacher.
"a surprise pop quiz again?" he said, which had sent a ripple of whispers around the classroom, everyone looking distraught.
the last time this had happened, it was because of yuji's movie suggestion to satoru, who ended up hating it so much, he assigned a surprise pop quiz for everyone as retribution. the class had yet to forgive yuji for even suggesting anything to your overly-dramatic teacher.
everyone was holding their breath, as though breathing meant the chances of another surprise pop quiz would go up by a hundred. the relief had only settled in once satoru confirmed that there was, in fact, no pop quiz.
"don't be so dramatic," he'd said, leaning against his desk with a lazy grin, only causing you to stare back at him, deadpanned. the irony, you thought to yourself silently. "you can all breathe now," he continued, an air of indifference surrounding him. "there's no surprise pop quiz."
if you hadn't been sitting right in front of him, you would have missed what he'd grumbled under his breath:
"but i was considering it."
he had moved on from the topic so quickly, his mood bright and cheery again, that you thought you might have imagined it.
satoru picked up a marker from the mess of pens on his desk and walked over to his large whiteboard, writing in block capitals — NEW SEATING PLAN!!!
with a smiley face at the end, of course.
"new seating plan?" liam read out, sounding incredulous.
everyone's heads had collectively turned to the door he had just walked through. he raised his brows at satoru, lost.
"but you always let us sit where we want," he added, as several other students voiced their agreement all at once.
satoru pointed at the empty stool next to noah, nodding.
"you're filling me in on what happened with miss utahime by the way," he'd said, as liam sat next to his friend, bag discarded on the floor, kicked beneath the lab table. satoru stared back at his writing on the board, as though staring at the mona lisa for the first time. "relax, it's nothing too bad. you guys —"
fhere was a sudden clatter from beneath the sink, loud enough to draw everyone's attention.
malakai had emerged, his head bumping the underside of the counter in his haste, his wide, alarmed eyes fixed on the board, expression a mixture of disbelief and dread, with his mouth slightly open as though he'd just witnessed something catastrophic.
there was a panicked stillness as he stared at the words, as if the announcement alone had thrown his entire existence into question.
satoru threw him a look.
"get back under the table, kai, it doesn't apply to you," he'd said, sounding just slightly exasperated.
malakai exhaled sharply, his shoulders dropping in visible relief as he scrambled back beneath the sink, head disappearing into the shadows of the cabinet, but not before he muttered something unintelligible to himself.
you could tell (from the faint shuffling sounds) it was clear that he was adjusting himself, settling in as though reclaiming a familiar sanctuary, the earlier panic melting away with every movement.
your eyes drifted back to your teacher's face as he continued:
"anyway, what was i saying? oh yeah — you guys have seating plans in your other classes, right?"
he nodded at rana afzal, who had her arm raised with a frown.
"we do, but we hate it," she'd said, looking worried, "and i like my seat."
"me too."
"yeah, same."
satoru made his way over to your table, wriggling his brows when you met his gaze through his sunglasses. he tilted his head down, and if it hadn't been for those ridiculous, opaque lenses, you would have noticed him glancing between you and kamo, calculating.
"y/n!" he beamed, too enthusiastic for your liking.
"that's me," you agreed, suspicious.
he leaned down, resting his elbow on your table, pointing at kamo, who did not look the slightest bit fazed.
"do you like sitting next to him?" he asked you casually.
you looked at kamo. it had barely been five minutes since you had sat next to him. there wasn't much to judge based on that.
yet you had spent the last hour learning how to solve quadratic equations with him, which also required sitting next to him, and he had been perfectly fine then.
there was no reason not to like sitting next to him. kamo kept to himself, and when he spoke, it was easy to speak back despite never having actually spoken to him prior to any tutoring sessions.
"yeah," you answered, as satoru's toothy grin remained stagnant on his face, "i like sitting next to —"
"no you don't! kamo, move over there," satoru swiftly interrupted, his tone bright and his voice resounding.
expression hardening, you followed his long, pointer finger, growing more annoyed and murderous when you realised he was expecting kamo to go trot back to his original seat, the stool on the table at the other end of the class closest to the door.
unlike you, kamo had no complaints, silently getting up to leave, though he held no care to tuck in his stool.
you watched him leave with furrowed brows.
"what was the point of asking me if i liked sitting next to him if you move him straight after?" you demanded, staring up at the man-child, who only seemed to relish in your irritation towards him, as though he thrived on being such a bother to people.
arguably, that was exactly what he did.
"it was a test," he answered dismissively, waving a hand at you before walking over to his desk to grab the board-marker eraser. "you failed."
he swiped his writing away, and once that had been done, he haphazardly threw the eraser at his desk, uncaring of the mess of pens that rolled straight off, clashing against the floor, one after the other.
"and everyone else can stay where they are, permanently!" satoru added, emphasising the long word by elongating it as he spoke. he looked around at everyone as he brought up the powerpoint for the lesson. "see? not so bad! you guys were crying over nothing!"
you glared at him. "you —"
"o-kay! moving on: kinematics!"
the classroom fell into an awkward, buzzing silence, students exchanging puzzled looks and darting glances satoru, who had so dramatically upended their expectations. a few of them leaned closer to their neighbours, mouths cupped as they muttered their confusion, while others simply gawked at the absurdity of the seating plan satoru had so confidently announced.
your own patience frayed further with every passing second.
was this truly the extent of his grand idea? just moving kamo and leaving it at that? your annoyance simmered, a steady undercurrent beneath your feigned calm, as you watched satoru bask in the tranquil chaos he'd caused, utterly unbothered by the confusion he'd left in his wake as he pulled up a number of recap slides to jog everyone's memory of kinematics.
it hadn't been a plan — it wasn't even order.
it was satoru gojo doing whatever satoru gojo wanted, as always.
"sir," a boy, connor hayes, had raised his arm, looking desperate.
satoru raised his brows at him, acknowledging his arm and silently encouraging him to speak.
"can i switch seats?" he asked, looking very uncomfortable where he sat.
you couldn't blame him — the girl on his left reminded you of veera from elementary school. the thought of her nearly made you gag again.
a trauma response, you decided, shivering.
satoru adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, looking at connor with a faintly raised brow, as though weighing the boy's predicament with theatrical seriousness. the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, betraying his internal amusement.
you already predicted his response, and found yourself feeling bad for the poor boy.
your teacher leaned back against his desk with the easy grace of someone who thrived on moments like these, his grin widening to a playful smirk. it was the look of a man who had no intention of making anyone's day easier, though his demeanour suggested otherwise.
behind those opaque glasses, there was no mistaking the sheer delight he took in the chaos he had just stirred.
"you picked your seat," satoru reminded him.
"yeah, but..." connor began, hesitating, "but i didn't know it was gonna be permanent."
satoru turned back to the board with a smile. "you'll live. so! remember this formula: u is the initial velocity, a is the acceleration, and t is the —"
"but you only moved one person, sir!"
the white-haired idiot looked at connor with his usual toothy smile, but you could tell, he did not seem pleased with the interruption. it was written over his face, and having known him for as long as you had, reading his expressions — even while he held up that mask of joy — was easy as pie.
again, you could not believe the irony here, for satoru constantly enjoyed interrupting and talking so much, just to hear the sound of his own voice.
your eyes found kamo's.
he didn't look too bothered.
you felt annoyed on his behalf regardless.
"you can move seats," said satoru, taking connor by surprise. you knew there was a catch, of course there was a catch: it was satoru. "... outside of the class!"
the hope on connor's face had fallen just as soon as it had arrived.
"but —"
"all right, if you aren't outta here by the time i take this blindfold off..." satoru explained, digging into his drawer and pulling out a thin, black blindfold which he began wrapping around his head, his white hair standing up as he tied and secured it at the back.
he looks like a pineapple, you thought to yourself bitterly.
your classmates began collectively speaking:
"why does he casually just... have a blindfold on him?"
"yeah, it's... creepy...?"
"what the hell?"
"the CDE needs to see this —"
despite his vision being completely obscured, satoru's head had snapped sharply towards the student who had voiced this concern, his jaw tightening visibly as the faint tick of tension rippled through his otherwise stoic expression.
"my favourite party game just so happens to be pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey," he stated, looking disgusted. "stop trying to sabotage your good looking teacher for no reason, giselle."
the longer he spoke, the more your mind churned with irritation.
you had expected something more from the seating plan, a real seating rearrangement, perhaps, something that would have made sense. there was, you noted, as the class went on despite the silent anger you wallowed in, no reasoning behind it.
he was a petty man, you understood that, but never to his own students. he enjoyed teaching his classes; his students enjoyed being in his classes. so what, you pondered to yourself, inquisitive, did satoru have against kamo?
nothing, probably, you had finally decided with a frown.
in fact, you'd probably done something to make him react such a way. he had a history of pulling tricks from out of his sleeve whenever someone did something to him (like when shoko told suguru of his minor rivalry against mimiko and nanako, which then resulted in satoru setting her up on a blind date with a cessation specialist).
across the classroom, your gaze flickered to kamo, still seated in that corner, jotting down notes as satoru continued droning on.
you couldn't help but notice how he was still indifferent towards the whole thing. had it been you in his position, you would have threatened to report satoru for teacher bias (never actually going through with it, of course).
trying to bridge the gap between the two of you, you leaned forward, intent on catching his attention, but as you opened your mouth to speak, satoru shifted, stepping deliberately into your line of sight.
his height, as always, created an impenetrable barrier between yourself and kamo.
and he had the audacity to throw you a wink when you made another attempt by moving to the other side instead.
he remained positioned in front of the dark haired boy, blocking your view and rendering your efforts completely futile.
frustration simmered again as you tried to focus past satoru's towering figure, but kamo remained an elusive enigma, hidden from you in plain sight.
and that was exactly how the rest of the class had gone, with satoru making quite sure that communication between the two of you would be so difficult to manage because of him, that in the end, you'd give up entirely.
and you did.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
"any of you need a ride home after your extracurriculars? i'm going round the block to drop something off at suguru's."
"yeah."
"yeah, thanks gojo!"
"i call shotgun, losers."
"no."
the others turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at the sharpness of your tone, unsure whether you, usually bubbly and bright, meant to sound that harsh.
satoru's office, typically cluttered with papers and half-empty coffee cups, had become an impromptu hangout space for the four of you after classes. despite the looming end of the school day, none of you were heading home just yet.
megumi and yuji were going to football practice, the usual post-school ritual of sweaty drills, nobara had cheerleading, and as the second-in-command, had a lot of demands to meet, and you had theatre practice, a particularly important session where the layout for the coming weeks would be addressed in.
satoru leaned against the edge of his desk, feet propped up on the worn wooden surface, a casual, almost disinterested look on his face as he watched the four of you interact. the chaos of after-school activities would soon break the temporary stillness, but for now, the office was a brief haven.
except for the part where it belonged to him, paired with the fact that you were still pissed off with his behaviour from earlier on in the day.
"drop the attitude," said satoru, wearing his trademark grin that only made you want to specifically carve out his dimples with a blunt fork. your furrowed your brows at him. "or... i'll set you extra homework —"
"if you keep abusing your power, i'll tell toji to beat you up."
he laughed at that.
heartily, even.
it only served to anger you some more.
"that piece of rotisserie is against us both," he reminded you with another chuckle.
"watch it," megumi mumbled.
if you were in a better mood, you would have teased him for jumping to his dad's defence.
satoru continued as though he hadn't heard him:
"you think he's gonna take your side?" he questioned you, brow raised.
you hated that he had a fair point. you were still going to push aside your pride and demand toji to beat him to a pulp. it benefited the both of you, toji wouldn't be able to turn down the offer unless his wife told him otherwise.
but you knew something that would dig deep into his broad chest and slice through his playful heart.
"i might just form an alliance with him," you shot back, feeling satisfaction bloom in your chest and blossom to its fullest, feeling it run through your blood like adrenaline as you watched his expression fall, jaw clenched and teeth gritted, betrayal circling in his bright irises.
he had taken his glasses off almost immediately, communicating with you through just his eyes.
you understood every word he telepathically voiced, and that only made the gratification of seeing him so betrayed and frustrated even better.
"you guys are against each other?" said megumi, and you couldn't help but hear the delight oozing out of his voice, even if it was unclear to the general public.
nobara, sat on the chair beside him, nodded. "apparently," she'd said, watching you and the man-child — that was sitting underneath a stormy, black cloud at his desk — with narrowed eyes. "what happened? i'm on y/n's side by the way —"
"hey!" satoru scowled.
"oh, it's that thing from physics today!" said yuji, turning to megumi and nobara with wide eyes. "he gave us a new seating plan!"
megumi's eyes had darted from you to satoru and back again. "a seating plan?"
"i've heard enough," said nobara, a hand raised to stop yuji from going on when he'd parted his lips to clarify. "i'm definitely on y/n's side."
megumi's expression had shifted in an instant, the stagnant scowl he usually wore breaking under the weight of genuine surprise. you couldn't blame him: the words 'satoru' and 'seating plan' had never been put in the same sentence in all your years at high school so far.
watching the quiet sharpness he tended to sport flickering with faint incredulity, you couldn't help but feel a small pang of amusement despite your irritation: for someone who usually held his cards so close to his chest, the shock on his face was almost childlike.
"can't believe i'm saying this," he began, breaking his silence, "but what's wrong with a seating plan? it's the only thing he's ever done that actually makes sense."
satoru had been in the process of putting his glasses back on when megumi had voiced his thoughts. the second the dark haired boy had uttered the final word, satoru forgot about his glasses altogether, slamming them on the table as though he'd just experienced a petrifying epiphany.
"megumi... are you defending me?"
megumi's eyes had darkened significantly. "don't look so hopeful. i still think you're stupid."
satoru turned to yuji and nobara with a smile that practically screamed hopeful. "that didn't sound like denial to me..?"
megumi ignored him, turning to you and watching as you folded your arms over your chest and glared at the man sitting happily before you.
"you gonna answer my question or not?" he'd said bluntly, just as nobara scolded yuji for leaning over her head to high-five satoru ('if that's how you treat girls, you're never gonna get one!').
"he literally only moved kamo," you informed him, and at megumi's brow raise, you added more. "...away from me. and then called it a day."
megumi's gaze lingered on you, his brows slightly knitted together, a subtle tilt to his head betraying his confusion. it wasn't the overt, wide-eyed sort of bewilderment, but rather the quiet kind — like he was piecing together a puzzle in his mind and coming up short.
"he's got this personal vendetta against him for some reason, which makes no sense 'cause kamo's just... kamo," you explained, shrugging. "he doesn't even do anything! even you like him, porcupine, and you act like you hate everyone."
megumi scowled down at the back of nobara's head when she had jolted forward in her seat to hit yuji again, which resulted in the chair kicking itself upwards in front of him. he stepped back hastily.
"kamo's tolerable," he agreed, nodding.
"ow— nobara, what the hell?" yuji groaned, causing both you and megumi to looked up and focus on the commotion occurring in front of you:
yuji was rubbing his arm with a pained expression, nobara sitting back with a proud look on her face, her hands holding onto the arms of the chair, as though preparing to launch another attack, before yuji retreated to the other side of the desk, next to satoru.
"hey, who's that?" he asked, leaning down and zeroing in on a small picture frame standing tall on the left corner of satoru's desk. its back was to you, so you had not a single clue on what image he was looking at.
satoru sat up in his chair, leaning forward with a sharp, confident tilt to his posture that instantly put you on edge. had it been any other day, where you could confidently say that you weren't arguing, you would have felt more at ease.
his grin was wide, almost wolfish, the kind that made it clear he was up to something. there was a mischievous glint in his pale blue eyes that shimmered like sunlight on broken glass — deceptive and dangerous. you could practically feel the cocky energy radiating off him, a smugness that seemed to fill the small, messy room.
"that," he began, staring down at the frame with a proud smile, "is my daughter."
all of you froze.
nobara was the first to break the silence.
"you had a daughter with your situationship?" she demanded, sounding furious and looking uncaring of the fact that satoru's smile had fallen at how she'd addressed it. "how come none of us knew?"
"it's not a situationship," he grumbled boyishly. he sounded tired of reiterating it every time. "we're married —"
"hey, she looks like someone," yuji commented, pointing at the frame with a small frown. he looked at the frame, then at satoru, then back at the frame again. he was probably comparing the two. "not like you, though, gojo... are you sure you're the d—"
"yes i'm the dad," he interrupted, brows furrowed in offence.
mock offence, almost.
"stop being greedy and show us already, yuji," said nobara, leaning forward and taking the frame to rest on her lap.
and the second you'd seen the actual image, you burst out laughing.
the frame held an image so absurdly out of character that it was almost magical in its hilarity: a young megumi, no older than one or two, dressed head-to-toe in pink.
glitter sparkled across his small cheeks, and his hair was adorned with delicate bows in pastel colours, framing his sullen expression. a barbie doll was clutched awkwardly in one of his tiny hands, the other holding winx club's flora, as though someone had thrust it upon him mid-tantrum, and the background was equally as ridiculous — a bed draped with ruffled pink sheets and surrounded by an army of plushies. you could see the big, pale hands that were holding his sides, and you knew immediately they belonged to satoru, who had been holding him upright for the picture to be taken.
you erupted into laughter so violently it doubled you over, the sound spilling out of you uncontrollably, and when nobara looked up at you in confusion, you held the frame next to megumi's face, and she had quickly followed suit, her own voice cutting through the air with shrill, unrelenting cackles.
you'd dropped the frame into her arms again as you gasped for breath, and she clutched it to her chest as though it was a priceless artifact, her fingers tightening their grip every time megumi made a move towards her.
his face had turned a deep shade of crimson, brows knitting together as he stood abruptly, trying to snatch the picture away.
"give it here," he demanded, his tone sharp like knives.
when nobara had continued to hold it at all four corners, his eyes had glinted dangerously at satoru, who threw him a cheeky wink.
"i'm going to punch you," megumi had threatened dangerously, growing more and more visibly agitated at the way you had bent down and held the arm of nobara's chair to hold yourself up.
satoru whistled lowly. "that's not very lady-like of you."
megumi turned away abruptly. "i'm leaving —"
"no, no!" you choked, trying, and failing to pull yourself up and stand properly. "no — stop, por— porcupine, we're only kidding! it's not funny..."
megumi ignored you, grabbing his schoolbag and making his way to the door.
"ah, megumi, don't leave just yet," said satoru, eyeing you carefully. "y/n's not off the hook either."
your stomach twisted as satoru's words settled into the air, heavy with an implication you couldn't quite place.
each second stretched into an eternity, and the laughter that had shaken your chest only moments ago felt like a distant memory, replaced by a crawling unease. your heart thumped against your ribs as you tried to decipher what he meant, your mind running through every embarrassing interaction, every minor misstep he could possibly exploit.
but the way his smile had widened only deepened your dread, like he was savouring the power of knowing something you didn't, and then he pulled something out from the drawer attached to his desk.
it was another frame.
you shifted your weight from foot to foot, the tension growing unbearable, as though the ground beneath you might suddenly give way.
karma, you scolded yourself in your head, as he turned the frame around with unmistakeable pride:
it was a titled, angled image of you and megumi at some point in first grade, in the middle of running away from home, each of you holding a bindle; yours a spotted pink, his a spotted red, staring up at the camera looking equally grumpy and distraught.
you remembered that day like it was yesterday.
it was nobara's easy laughter that had you drawing your eyes away from the image, your cheeks feeling hot with anger.
"cut it out," you'd snapped, walking over to try and knock it off the desk, but yuji had skilfully leaped forward, holding onto the frame and keeping it in place, his own sniggering loud enough to make you grit your teeth in irritation.
"look at the back of your heads!" he guffawed, eyes watering as his knuckles turned white with each second that went by you were trying to snatch the frame away.
you were failing, and threw him a sharp look.
"back of our heads?" you repeated, confused, for the photo before you displayed an almost bird's eye view of your fronts. "what do you mean? it's us looking up at the camera."
"what?" said nobara, her pale cheeks pink as she heaved out another breath. "it's — it's neither of those... it's the two of you — oh my god that's so funny — it's the two of you looking down at the camera."
you squinted at the frame again, leaning in closer to examine it.
you were right: from your angle, it was unmistakably an image of you and megumi looking up at the camera, your little faces scrunched in identical, sullen expressions... and yet, the others seemed convinced it was something else entirely.
tilting your head slightly, you frowned, trying to see what they were seeing. the picture didn't seem to shift, at least not at first glance, but their laughter persisted, leaving you more puzzled than before. something about this photo wasn't adding up — and the confusion gnawed at you as you strained to make sense of the strange discrepancy.
but it was when you'd tilted the frame ever so slightly, in an innocent attempt to free it from yuji's iron grip, did you realise what the confusion was.
your gaze locked onto satoru's face — his infuriatingly smug, insufferably self-satisfied expression radiating a level of arrogance that made your blood boil and your glare sharpen into a cold, piercing intensity, each imaginary dagger you hurled from your eyes aimed with the precision of someone whose patience had been thoroughly, utterly obliterated.
"it's a goddamn lenticular hologram," you spat, tone laced with venom.
as expected, yuji and nobara both moved their heads this way and that, trying to look at the different angles of the same image, even despite your stubborn protests.
megumi, who had been lingering by the door, scowled.
"that's what you spend your money on?" he commented, sounding disgusted and incredibly unimpressed.
satoru shrugged carelessly.
"pocket money," he corrected. "when you're as rich as me, this is barely a dent on my bank account."
"hey, scrappy-doo," you called out to megumi, looking at him from over your shoulder, "are you gonna — nobara! stop! — are you gonna help me take this frame or just — ow, my hand! — just stand there and be useless? shit, that hurts!"
megumi did not appreciate your tone nor the choice of name you'd given him. he was not as useless as that dog (perhaps the only dog he'd ever criticise in his lifetime).
he threw you a glare of his own, though he'd realised that the value of it had practically diminished with how often he seemed to use it on you.
"don't look at me like that," you snapped, annoyed. "you're the one who suggested running away to begin with!"
megumi's cheeks had become slightly less pale. he did not like how many eyes were focused on him now. he did not like a lot of things about them: a creepy pair looked amused, another pair seemed shocked, and another pair was round with curiosity.
every single one of them, however, wanted to laugh.
he could tell.
"that's not true," he denied lowly, glowering when yuji had only chuckled harder.
your eyes had widened, the shock of his blatant lie enough to have you release the frame and stand up straighter, gawking at him in stupefaction.
"you're a fat liar, porcupine!" you gasped, disbelief written all over your face and words. "you said we should run away when everyone laughed at us for —"
"take her word for it," megumi interrupted, turning away again, dismissive, "or don't. i don't care. you know who the serial liar is in this room."
you opened your mouth, words sharp and ready to lash back at megumi's dismissal, the heat of indignation coursing through your veins as the retort had begun forming on the tip of your tongue.
but before you could let loose, a crisp knock on the door echoed through the room, silencing the chaos instantly.
it cut through the laughter and tension like a blade, commanding attention and replacing the charged air with a sudden stillness. satoru let out a loud groan, throwing his head back and sighing like a child being reminded of bedtime.
"it's probably negative nancy again," he said, tone clipped as he sat up and placed his glasses on his nose again, expression dull. "come in!"
but instead of the sour-faced teacher who frequently barged in to scold satoru for his casual behavior, the door swung open to reveal kamo, his posture rigid, and his expression betraying only the slightest hint of surprise at your entire friend group being huddled inside the office.
"coach yaga said if yuji and megumi don't turn up to practice on time, he's gonna make everyone run ten laps around the field," he stated precisely, as though it had been rehearsed on the way. kamo's expression did not falter. "i don't wanna run ten laps around the field."
"ah," yuji groaned, standing up and scratching the back of his ear, "what time is it?"
"three-twenty-eight," nobara read from the clock on the wall opposite the display with several students' year book photos.
yuji hurriedly ran for the door, kamo cautiously flattening himself against it so as to not get tackled.
"we're gonna be late — bye guys!" you heard him call out, his voice carrying down the hallway.
megumi exchanged a glance with kamo, looking half annoyed with the ordeal that had occurred before kamo's entrance, and calmly made his way to the door.
kamo's eyes had gone past your friend's face to meet yours, nodding in acknowledgment.
"hi, y/n," he'd said, watching as you waved at him politely.
nobara sat up, her brows furrowing as she threw kamo an incredulous look; he was turning to leave with megumi.
"known him since elementary and there's no 'hi' for me," she said, brow raised as she faced forward again to meet satoru's calculative stare. "can you believe that? so rude."
the teacher nodded thoughtfully. "true, but you'd maul him if he spoke to you."
nobara scrunched her nose at him, displeased. "not an excuse, men used to go to war!"
you stepped towards the door, your gaze lingering on the retreating figures of the boys.
but your brows had begun knitting themselves together when you took note of megumi's deliberate distance from kamo — a space that seemed calculated, almost unnatural, as if he was ensuring they wouldn't be walking too closely. it wasn't the kind of distance borne out of casual walking, but something that felt purposeful: he'd never taken that precaution when walking side by side with yuji.
"you're going to football practice with a liar, by the way!" you called out to kamo, still heated about the untruth megumi had voiced so easily prior to kamo's appearance.
megumi did not look at you when he responded:
"don't you have swim practice to get to?"
you scrunched your nose at the back of his head, turning to satoru and nobara with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.
"swim practice?" you repeated, puzzled. "what's he talking about? i don't do... i do theatre."
satoru and nobara were staring back at you with expressions so unrelentingly blank, it was almost unnerving. their eyes, however, told a different story — dancing with mischief and smug amusement, as though they were both in on a joke you weren't yet privy to.
nobara had raised an eyebrow, tilting her head ever so slightly, while satoru had leaned back in his chair, his arms folded lazily over his chest. they said nothing, letting the silence hang heavy, waiting for you to connect the dots.
your eyes widened as the realisation crashed over you like a tidal wave.
swim practice.
the words echoed in your mind, now dripping with mockery.
you clenched your fists, indignation flaring in your chest as you whipped around towards the door again, but by the time you lunged for it and yanked it open, all you caught was the faint echo of his footsteps disappearing down the hall.
too late.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
tsumiki stood near the school's community display board, carefully pinning a brightly coloured sign advertising the upcoming fall festival. the event, scheduled for late september, promised food trucks, games, and a student choir showcase.
her delicate fingers smoothed out the corners of the poster, ensuring it lay flat against the corkboard, a slight smile gracing her face as she stepped back to admire her work. around her, students passed by with their books against their chests, eyeing the poster as they went by, chatting merrily.
she had begun throwing away the empty box of pins when she turned abruptly at the sound of her name, her ponytail swishing as her eyes, unsurprisingly, met kamo's.
he stood a few feet away, posture composed respectfully as he secured the strap of his bag on his shoulder, his expression monotoned.
"you caught me at a better time, kamo," she commented with a gentle smile.
the boy in question furrowed his brows at her.
"you don't look surprised," he responded, blunt as ever.
she knew he meant well, even if he could have chosen to speak in longer sentences.
"i know you and megumi have business class together here," said tsumiki, nodding at the empty classroom on the opposite end of the hallway, "and the girl that was meant to put the fall festival poster up today isn't in, so i had to come down here and do it. you were bound to find me."
she moved her head to the side so as to unblock his view from the poster she'd just put up, a hand raised to present it more formally.
"anyway," she sighed, shaking her head with an air of finality, "so... erm... the student council is currently full right now, which means that you can't join just yet."
kamo had previously approached tsumiki with a straightforward request about joining the student council, expressing an absurd amount of interest in contributing to the group. though his reserved demeanour left little room for elaboration, tsumiki took his request seriously, setting aside time to check for any open positions what-not.
however, she had later discovered that all positions had already been filled for the semester, and as the considerate senior she believed herself to be, made a mental note to inform him directly, not wanting to let the matter go unresolved or leave him waiting unnecessarily.
"but i can always see what's available for the next few semesters?" she suggested brightly. "some of our members have been slacking lately, and... i don't want to get rid of them, but i'm not sure how else we're gonna get a move on if they keep missing meetings and stuff. i also don't know how to tell them, so..."
"don't worry about it," kamo assured her with a small shake of his head. "i got an email from nanami about being someone's tutor. gonna go ask him about it in class today. but thanks anyway."
"oh, that's great!" tsumiki beamed, relieved. she had been internally struggling on how to let the junior know about the rejection. she didn't find any of those conversations easy. "who are you tutoring?"
kamo did not miss a beat when responding. "y/n."
tsumiki's brows has raised significantly.
if it had to be anyone tutored in math, she considered to herself mentally, it would be you. she remembered the notes she'd already used being passed down, not to megumi, but to you instead. she knew you needed the help, not that there was anything shameful about it at all.
it made no sense to her how she hadn't just known (the second kamo mentioned tutoring someone) that it'd be you.
"okay, well," she began, picking up her discarded bag and putting her arms through the straps casually, "that makes this conversation a whole lot easier. i was afraid i'd have to reject you and end it with 'good luck finding something though'. it's... always awkward. i hate it."
the hallway was starting to get busier as their conversation went on.
"so, i'll see you, then," she waved at him politely, making a move to walk off, but kamo had stopped her, stepping in front of her hurriedly.
she looked up at him expectantly, for she'd assumed the conversation was done. surely there was nothing else to be added...?
kamo cleared his throat, and for the first time since she'd known the blunt junior, she realised that he looked almost hesitant.
"i'm just gonna say it," he muttered, sounding as though he were talking more to himself than to her. tsumiki tilted her head at him, leaning forward to catch his low voice. "you're close with y/n."
it was a statement, not a question, she noted to herself.
she nodded regardless.
"like family," she agreed softly, unsure of where this was going.
his tentative behaviour had her taking a step back. something told her that this conversation wasn't just about extracurriculars and things to add to his college application.
but what he had said next was not something she'd been prepared for.
"do you know if she's seeing anyone?"
and then it hit her, all of it, every single conversation he had initiated with her over the past week or so.
kamo did not want to join the student council for a little something to be added to his college application. he had not gone to speak to tsumiki of all people just because she was head of the student council either, however, it had been convenient that she was head...
... for it meant that he could easily ask questions about you, a regular and constant member of the student council.
he did not care that the positions were limited, for he'd landed a different position, a better position, to get closer to you:
he was now your tutor in math.
whenever she'd do the dirty job of turning people down or rejecting them regarding the amount of members, no matter how politely she put it, they always assured her that it was fine, that they're okay with it, but none of them actually were. she could tell by the disheartened expressions on their face that would be hurriedly masked by one of indifference.
but kamo... kamo truly did not care. his mask of indifference, his facade of carelessness had not been a mask or facade at all. and at first, tsumiki had just assumed that he was just that good at hiding what he truly felt (after all, he walked around looking unbothered every second of every day, it wasn't new to him).
but that hadn't been it at all.
she'd been wrong.
it all made sense.
"tsumiki...?"
ah, she'd forgotten to respond.
she blinked up at him in realisation.
"sorry, sorry," she babbled, chuckling sheepishly. "i was just... thinking."
he did not say anything, clearly awaiting her response to his question.
"i'm not exactly sure," she answered, which wasn't a complete lie.
you weren't in a relationship with anyone, she knew that for sure. if you were, the entire family would know about it, for secrets did not exist in the zenin-gojo-fushiguro-l/n family. the last time mai had tried a relationship out, uncle ogi had gone ballistic.
but she also knew that you wouldn't have hidden it from her. it wouldn't even be possible to count on her fingers how many times you'd come to her with secrets, questions, and so on. in the humblest way possible, tsumiki knew that if you were in a relationship, she'd definitely know about it.
and yet...
there was an unspoken, knowing thing in the air that she was aware of, but neither you nor the person she had in mind had ever ventured it. she wasn't even certain that either of you were aware of it.
she herself hadn't been until just a year or two ago...
but that was the thing. it had never been mentioned, it had never been voiced, nor had it ever been implied.
she morphed her expression into one of neutrality. for the things she'd seen over the years, if a move wasn't going to be made between you and him, then it wouldn't be fair to tell kamo otherwise.
she had to be certain.
"she's not seeing anyone, that's for sure," tsumiki informed the boy before her, careful with her words, "but... i don't know if she likes anyone."
"i see," kamo nodded, looking contemplative. she couldn't blame him, her answer was rather vague. "i don't want to waste my time if —"
"yeah, i get you," she nodded, understanding. "how about i ask?"
kamo's expression had turned stony.
"no thanks —"
"not her," tsumiki interrupted him with a laugh. "the mutual friends she and i share. i won't mention you, i'll just ask if she likes anyone. if anyone likes her. you get the idea."
kamo's expression shifted as he mulled over tsumiki's offer, his sharp features reflecting an unusual mixture of calculation and apprehension.
his furrowed brows and slightly pursed lips betrayed a rare moment of hesitation, as if weighing the potential outcomes against his own guarded nature. the normally composed junior found himself caught between his instinct to handle matters independently and the opportunity to gain insight without exposing himself too soon.
but after a moment, tsumiki watched with satisfaction as his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.
he nodded subtly, deciding that tsumiki's plan made sense.
"ok," he'd said, eyes half-lidded. "thanks."
when tsumiki had parted her lips to respond, she'd noticed yuji and megumi in the far distance standing near their classroom. yuji seemed to be looking right at her, a broad grin on his face as he raised a hand to wave at her.
"oh, she saw us!" she heard him saying. "she's saying hi!"
but megumi, she noted, who was standing beside him didn't make a single attempt to meet her gaze, choosing to ignore her entirely and go to his class.
tsumiki did not mind, even if it did surprise her slightly that he chose to choose such a cold way to respond, as megumi was always in a bad mood during school.
she raised her own hand and waved politely at the pink-haired, bubbly boy.
"megumi, she's — she's saying hi —" she heard him repeat, sounding half excited and half confused.
she watched as megumi stepped into his classroom, disappearing from her sight. yuji had, not even a moment later, followed him in, but not without loudly demanding why he was ignoring her.
tsumiki sighed and turned to kamo with a gentle smile.
"i guess that means we'll be in touch," she told him, as he took a step back, eyeing his class.
"yeah," he nodded, beginning to walk away. "thanks again."
tsumiki lingered for a moment, her gaze following kamo as he turned the corner and disappeared into his classroom.
the faintest trace of a smirk played on her lips as she adjusted the strap of her bag and headed towards her own class. of all the ways she had expected the day to unfold, becoming a covert matchmaker wasn't one of them, and she couldn't help but chuckle softly to herself, amused by the unexpected turn of events, and curious about what might come next.
the rest of the year was certainly going to be interesting.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
bonus scene:
"how is that gonna help us survive?"
"erm... it's gonna — we're gonna — it's gonna mean we can still have fun!"
megumi glared down at your bindle.
the two of you had made it a safe distance away from your houses — or ex-houses, rather, since you had officially decided that you were going to run away.
after an unsuccessful attempt at helping your mom with cleaning the kitchen counters while she was gone, leaving foamed up hand soap and water-drenched tissue pieces everywhere, the adults had all gathered round and laughed at the two of you, mocking your labour and making inside jokes as thought you were not present in the room with them.
it was humiliating.
so humiliating to the point where megumi had come up with the idea to run away together. if your family couldn't appreciate your efforts and instead decide to ring up the extended family to laugh about you, perhaps they'd be happy with never seeing you again.
that'll show them.
so the two of you had separated to your respective rooms — now ex-rooms — to pack the necessities.
and there they were, laid out on the concrete ground before you.
you had gone first, your spotted pink cloth on the side of the road as you crouched down and picked up your disney doll, sleeping beauty, a small blanket for herthat had been placed next to your toothbrush, and lelli kelly shimmery lipgloss and eyeshadow.
megumi was beyond unimpressed.
"and you didn't bring toothpaste," he reminded you with a scowl.
you glanced at him, wide eyed in petrification. amidst your anger towards the adults, you had completely forgotten to pack the toothpaste.
megumi glared at you and began undoing his own bindle, the spotted red cloth of his carefully laid out on the crosswalk, presenting items you hadn't even considered packing: toothpaste, his toothbrush, two sandwiches wrapped in tin foil, and a small first aid kit.
"it's fine," he assured you, pointing at his items. "i have some here."
you rubbed your forehead with your arm in relief.
"phew!" you sighed, using your other hand to hold your doll close to your chest. "that was close."
"how is that supposed to cover us?" megumi demanded, staring at the little blanket you'd packed for your doll.
you raised your brows at him.
"like — like on — on our feet! like this megumi, look!" you told him, picking up the little blanket and comparing it to your feet. you supposed he had a point, but you wanted to be right.
he gave you a sharp look, very clearly unimpressed with your comparison.
"it's not gonna cover our knees," he stated angrily, glowering at you as though you'd committed a heinous crime before him.
you frowned, your lips in a pout. his tone was rude and you didn't appreciate it.
"well now you're just — you're just making me want to keep on walking away from you, megumi."
"no, don't."
"okay."
megumi looked out into the distance, his eyes narrowed as he shielded his gaze from the sun, his small hand hovering above his furrowed, tense brows. he turned back to you with a frown.
"we're gonna keep walking after a break," he informed you, taking a seat on the crosswalk and scratching his bare knee. it was a hot day, the summer heat had made it so that in the morning, before either of you knew you'd run away together, you had worn clothes fit for the day.
megumi was in his navy shorts and a plain white shirt, meanwhile you were in your yellow sundress and floral sandals.
not fit for the night, according to your grumpy friend.
you joined him on the crosswalk, the hard of the ground rubbing against your bottom, making you shift in discomfort. if you weren't on the run, you would have been sitting on your bed... your ex-bed, which had been so much more comfortable.
"we do a good thing and they embarrass us," megumi grumbled, kicking a stone and watching it tumble dramatically. "they're gonna regret it now."
"yeah," you agreed, stroking your doll's hair.
you realised you had also forgotten to pack her mini hairbrush.
it was too late to do anything about it now.
the two of you had silently begun remaking your bindles again. megumi had informed you that the sandwiches would be used only for when you were completely starving as there wasn't enough food to last you for the rest of the day. he had blamed you for packing 'unnecessary things', to which you had responded heatedly with.
once your bindles were remade, the two of you held your sticks over your shoulders and stared down at your houses.
mrs daphne would be glad you were gone, but you liked to picture her upset at hearing that you were missing.
your father, who was currently on a trip in australia, would be beyond distressed about your disappearance. you imagined him getting that call from your mom, her usually careless demeanour missing (just like you) crying into the phone, telling him the last time she'd seen you...
which just so happened to be when the family had been mocking the two of you.
"my mommy is — she's gonna regret it, too," you mumbled, a lump in your throat as you pictured the next scene in your head: megumi's mom looking for him, and then realising you were gone, too.
the look of despair on her face. the realisation that the last thing she had said to you were impolite, unlike her usual behaviour...
"and — and they'll think of — they'll think what they said to us... before we..." you continued, the lump in your throat making it harder for you to speak.
when you glanced at megumi, you realised how he was looking the same. both your eyes, despite the fact that you were hiding it from each other, were slowly filling themselves up with salty water.
megumi cleared his throat. you knew it wouldn't help because you tried that too.
he continued anyway:
"and when they find our dead bodies... they're... gonna cry at our funeral..."
you pictured your gravestones, his next to yours, a single flower placed on top of the soil on his, several bouquets on yours.
it made your eyes sting and burn even more.
toji would stand by your gravestone, silently staring down at it in deep remorse. he'd think about the times he had never referred to you with your name — always the devil child, never y/n.
he'd say your name then, and burst into tears when he realises that you'd never hear it...
because you were dead.
"your — your — your dad," you added, throat burning as you held back your tears, "he's gonna wish... he said... s-sorry... t-to... me..."
megumi cleared his throat again. you did not follow suit this time, knowing quite well how useless it was.
the two of you were trying your hardest to avoid looking at each other, neither of you wanting to show that you were crying, but both of you well aware of the fact that you were.
"uncle ogi is gonna... tell... the zenins in japan... about me... dying," megumi added carefully, "in starvation... or... murder... if someone kidnaps us..."
your bottom lip wobbled at the thought. you didn't want to be kidnapped. you didn't want to die. you didn't want a funeral this early.
and yet, you did not make the choice of going back. you wouldn't make that choice. otherwise, the adults would never learn their lesson. this was necessary. they needed to know how rude they were to the two of you for trying to be helpful and do some good around the house.
"and s-satoru's gonna... when he used to," you started again, but the lump in your throat was seriously making it difficult for you to speak, "when he used to... make fun of... my english... when — when — whenever i spoke..."
your conversation was abruptly cut off as a distant, frantic voice echoed through the air.
both you and megumi froze, your small feet rooted to the ground, as the sound of your names being called reached you.
the voices overlapped, desperate and searching, growing louder with every passing second. you turned to megumi, your wide eyes meeting his, and though neither of you spoke, the unspoken question hung between you: should you keep going?
"Y/N?!"
"MEGUMI?!"
"MEGUMI AND Y/N —"
the two of you stood behind the fence of one of your neighbours' house, watching as your guardians separated and began searching the area for you.
"they're looking for us," you commented, the sting in your eyes lessening as you watched your mom run in the other direction.
"yeah, good," megumi responded, sounding annoyed. "let's go."
just as the two of you were about to spin on your heels and bolt in the other direction, you found yourselves face-to-face with the last person you wanted to see: satoru gojo stood before you, his sunglasses slightly tilted down his nose and a curious expression plastered over his face.
you hadn't even paid attention to the fact that megumi's mom was also by his side, her expression one of complete fury.
for a moment, none of you spoke.
and when your eyes had locked onto that dreaded camera that hung around his neck, already raised and pointed at you, that infuriatingly carefree grin returned across his face.
"gotcha!" he chirped, snapping pictures from every possible angle — close-ups of your scowls, wide shots of your shoes, even a dramatic low angle of your crossed arms.
and all you could do was stand there, your grumpy faces growing darker with each shutter click, a silent agreement passing between you that this moment would haunt the both of you forever.
all because of satoru and that stupid camera of his.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
next chapter :)
notes: so some of u were right, and then backtracked (muahahaha). my ao3 lot were extremely suspicious and i couldn't trick them unfortunately :/ so... yeah. anyway, thoughts? predictions? what do we think?
previous chapter :)
next chapter :)
taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):
@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @laughingfcx @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam @thelost-child
© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)
i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.
if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)
#megumi x you#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x y/n#jjk#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x you#jjk x reader#megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x y/n#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro x y/n#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jjk megumi#little megumi x you#little megumi x reader#little megumi#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#megumi imagine#megumi fushiguro#jujutsu megumi
172 notes
·
View notes