#actual finished pieces coming soon! (hopefully)
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Just had to take a few minutes to doodle this, it's so cool to be able to see them win their first cup ever! 🐀
#panthers lb#florida panthers#hockey#nhl#stanley cup 2024#hockey art#doodles#new digital artist#I am a pens fan but it has been great watching the cats this post season!#They seem like such a great group and a fantastic story#They really deserved and earned this championship#First thing I've ever drawn w/o a traditional sketch first--just don't have the time rn :/#actual finished pieces coming soon! (hopefully)
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have finally finished O Segredo Na Floresta.
I have cried more than I thought possible.
And I fear I shall never be the same.
#i have discovered that however bad quarentena was - cellbit has tons more angst material ready to unleash when least expected#it was so so so good but my god - i have never felt more empty#you ever see a piece of media and think yeh this is gonna change the way i view certain things forever - yep.#but now i enter the ordem episodes that arent captioned and only have the youtube autotranslate - the final boss for my portuguese knowledge#cellbit#ordem paranormal#this post is sort of my proof to myself when i actually finished the bastard - this season was three billion years long i swear#and still so long to go#cellbit will continue to stab my emotions for many more hours to come!!!#it is very late at night and i am very sad. TIME TO START THE NEXT ONE :D#o segredo na floresta#enigma do medo#bro i need to yell at someone about the last like hour of the damn thing because i have many things to say. or maybe just cry some more#at least my portuguese is much better now lmao. I'll get to a point where i can just listen to an episode with no subtitles if it kills me!!#hopefully cellbit will be back on the qsmp soon to rip my heart out with a cute lil cubito delivering heart wrenching angst for some variety#qsmp#ok sleep time lmao
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
NEVER GO HUNGRY EVER AGAIN
pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
word count: 1727
hii it's been a while since my last fic and im stll on a high since the abu dabi gp, so heres a cute little lando fic. also just finished my first semester of uni hopefully i can be more active.
The soft glow of the monitors illuminated Lando’s face as he leaned forward, laser-focused on his game. His fingers danced across the controller, jaw set in determination. Voices of his friends buzzed through his headset, a mix of banter, callouts, and the occasional burst of laughter.
“Lando, mate, you’re absolutely throwing right now,” Max’s voice rang out, feigned frustration clear in his tone.
“I’m not throwing! I’m playing the long game,” Lando shot back with a grin, eyes still glued to the screen. “It’s called strategy, ever heard of it?”
“Yeah, the strategy of losing,” Ria quipped, drawing a chorus of laughter from the team.
“Alright, alright, just watch this,” Lando said, leaning even closer to the screen. His tongue poked out in concentration, the telltale sign he was locked in.
Time slipped away unnoticed as he navigated the game’s twists and turns. The familiar rhythm of the stream chat’s messages scrolled rapidly on his second monitor, but he was too deep into the game to glance over. Hours must have passed, but Lando’s mind was too preoccupied to register the growling in his stomach.
Then, a knock.
“One sec,” Lando muttered, sliding one earcup off his head. He glanced toward the door, his brows furrowing in confusion before realization dawned. He leaned back in his chair, eyes softening. “Come in!”
There was a brief sound of shuffling, the slight thud of a hip bumping the door before it slowly creaked open. Y/N stepped in, balancing a plate of food in her hands with the focus of someone carrying a national treasure. The chat’s speed doubled as her side profile came into frame, and messages like "OMG it’s Y/N!" and "Wifey alert 😍" flooded the chat box.
“Brought you dinner,” she said softly, walking toward him with careful steps. The aroma hit him before she even reached his desk, and his heart swelled with warmth.
“Oh, you’re a legend, babe,” Lando said, quickly sitting upright and scooting his chair back to give her space. He took the plate from her, eyes wide with admiration as he gazed at the meal she’d prepared. “This looks amazing.”
“I was worried you’d forget to eat,” she teased, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was soft but knowing—she’d seen him get lost in games like this before.
Lando’s eyes didn’t leave her face for a second. His gaze flickered to the chat, catching sight of the flood of adoring messages. "The way he’s looking at her, I’m sick 🩸" and "That’s the look of a man in love" filled the stream.
“She’s literally the best ever, chat,” Lando said, his voice warm and unwavering. He reached up with his free hand to gently squeeze Y/N’s wrist before letting her go. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world, I swear.”
“I’ll get you a drink,” Y/N said, already turning to leave. “Wait here.”
“I—” Lando started, but she’d already slipped out of the room. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before glancing at the camera. “Chat, I’m telling you, I’ve won the lottery. She’s just…” He trailed off, unable to find a word that felt big enough to encompass it all. “Yeah. She’s perfect.”
“Bro, you’re down so bad,” Max’s voice cackled through the headset. “Not even hiding it anymore.”
“Why would I?” Lando shot back, eyes sparkling with pride. He lifted a piece of the dinner—some kind of stuffed pasta—and popped it into his mouth. His eyes widened as soon as he tasted it. “Okay, wait, hold on.” He covered his mouth as he chewed, glancing at the camera like he’d just uncovered a world-class secret. “This is actually insane. I’m eating like royalty right now.”
“Imagine getting home-cooked meals while streaming. Must be nice,” Ria sighed dramatically.
“Couldn’t be me,” Aaron added with mock bitterness. “I’m over here eating cold leftover pizza like a peasant.”
“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, mate,” Lando grinned, taking another bite. He’d meant to savor it, but he’d already eaten half before he realized it. “Chat, she’s turned into a whole chef since moving in. Two weeks ago she’d barely step into the kitchen, and now look at this. Look at me.” He gestured toward himself with his fork. “I’m living like a king.”
The chat’s pace somehow sped up even more, hearts, fire emojis, and "Y/N for president" messages flooding in.
Y/N returned with a cold drink in hand and set it beside him on the desk. Her eyes darted to the chat for just a moment before glancing at him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “What did you say?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“Nothing incriminating, I promise,” Lando said, eyes wide with faux innocence. “Only that you’re basically a professional chef now.”
“Mhm. Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes, but the smile on her face gave her away. “Just eat it before it gets cold.”
Lando’s face broke into a grin so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. He glanced once more at the chat. "Lando’s done for, he’s a goner," one person wrote, and he had to admit… they weren’t wrong.
He raised his glass to the camera in a mock toast. “To all of you wishing you had what I’ve got,” he said, eyes flicking back to Y/N as she disappeared through the door again, “I’m sorry, but it’s mine. All mine.”
A couple of months into living together, it had become a routine for Y/N to bring Lando food during his streams. It started as a simple act of kindness but quickly became a beloved ritual for both of them — and for Lando’s ever-watchful chat.
Tonight was no different.
Lando’s camera captured him in his element, leaning forward in his chair, controller in hand, eyes narrowed in sharp focus. His headset covered his curls, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in classic 'concentration mode.' On his second monitor, the stream chat moved at lightning speed, viewers spamming “LAN-DOOOO”, “HE’S SWEATING”, and various emotes of fire, skulls, and crying faces.
“Lando, you’re one shot, man,” Max’s voice rang in his ear, sharp with urgency.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah—I got it, I got it,” Lando muttered, hands moving rapidly on the controller. “Just cover me for like... five seconds!”
“Five seconds too many,” Ria chimed in. “I’m not your babysitter, Norris.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando quipped, grinning as he slid his character behind cover.
Then, it happened — the knock on the door.
“Yo, hold on. Hold on. One sec,” Lando said, throwing a quick glance at his door. A slow grin crept onto his face as he realized what time it was. “Chat, you know what’s coming,” he said, sliding his chair back.
“It’s timeeee!” one person spammed in the chat.
“WIFEY ALERT 🚨,” another user wrote, followed by a sea of heart emojis.
The door nudged open slowly, and in came Y/N, balancing a plate with one hand and holding a drink in the other. Her expression was one of mock seriousness, eyes narrowed like she was on a high-stakes mission. The second she stepped into frame, the chat went wild.
“SHE’S HEREEEE” “THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED” “HOLD ON, SHE’S CARRYING SNACKS??” “I’m so single it’s painful”
“Dinner delivery for one Mr. Lando Norris,” Y/N announced, placing the plate in front of him with a flourish like she was a waiter at a five-star restaurant. “Sir, your steak and garlic butter potatoes. Compliments of the chef.”
“Oh, you’re too good to me, babe,” Lando said, eyes wide with dramatic awe. He glanced at the plate like it was a priceless treasure, then looked at the camera, pointing at Y/N. “Chat, look at this. Are you seeing this? Chef Y/N at it again. Tell me I’m not the luckiest guy in the world.”
“You’re not,” Max’s voice cut in, laughing. “I’m still here eating microwave noodles, mate.”
“Skill issue,” Y/N shot back casually, leaning down to glance at Lando’s second monitor. The chat’s speed had tripled. Her lips twitched into a smile. “They’re calling you a simp, by the way.”
“I am a simp,” Lando declared without hesitation, holding a fork like it was a scepter. “And I have no regrets.” He stabbed a piece of steak and stuffed it into his mouth, eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “Oh, my days. This is illegal. You’re ruining me.”
“Man’s got his priorities right,” Aaron’s voice chimed in through the headset.
Y/N’s laughter bubbled out, light and melodic, and she shook her head. “Don’t choke on it, simp. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” She leaned in and tapped a quick kiss to his cheek, which sent the chat into meltdown.
“CLIP IT, CLIP IT RIGHT NOW” “THE KISS. THE KISS. WE’VE WON.” “I’m crying. They’re so in love it’s disgusting.”
Lando’s cheek flushed pink as he glanced back at the camera, his grin stretching wider than it should. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m done for,” he said, rubbing his cheek where her lips had been like he could still feel it. “But you’d be too if you had Y/N bringing you garlic butter potatoes, alright? Don’t be jealous. It’s not a good look.”
“You’re insufferable,” Ria sighed. “But also, I’d like to formally request a plate.”
“Tell Y/N I’ll pay her to ship it to me,” Max added.
“She’s not taking requests,” Lando shot back, grinning like a man with the world’s greatest secret. “This exclusive menu is mine and mine alone.” He held up the plate to the camera, displaying the perfectly cooked steak and crispy golden potatoes. “Look at that. The chat’s in shambles. They’re losing it. I would be too, honestly.”
He glanced toward the door, his grin softening as he caught sight of Y/N’s figure passing by in the hallway. “Yeah,” he muttered to himself, eyes trailing her for a moment longer before turning back to the camera. “I’m absolutely done for.”
“Somebody save this man,” Aaron’s voice cackled, but Lando didn’t even hear it.
“Don’t want to be saved, mate,” Lando said, mouth full of potatoes. He raised his glass toward the camera like he’d done a hundred times before. “Cheers to being a simp, yeah? I’ll happily stay down bad forever.”
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#formula one#ln4#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#ln4 mcl#mclaren#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.
A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽
summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you
wc: a short n sweet 1k
cw: none, tooth rotting fluff
_______________________________________________
With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.
You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.
There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.
He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”
He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”
“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“
The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”
Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.
A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”
His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”
You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”
You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.
Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.
He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.
But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.
“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”
“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“
“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”
Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”
He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”
It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.
“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.
Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.
“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.
His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”
Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”
You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”
A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”
The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.
But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.
“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fanfiction#dr spencer reid
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
sincerely yours. (10)
↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+
tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,
notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3
series masterlist -> episode eleven
“It’s a little weird.”
What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming.
She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be.
Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now?
If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place?
She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you.
But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life?
Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all.
Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that?
“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”
“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”
The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”
I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?”
“Was he like that with you before?”
“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”
To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty.
“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.”
Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.
“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”
“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point.
Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?”
The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.”
“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”
The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.”
Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”
“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”
“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.”
He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.”
As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet.
The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.
Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”
Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”
“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused.
To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?”
Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons.
Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare.
— —
You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction.
To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.
You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband?
She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married.
Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.
Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else.
Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.
If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.
Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu.
You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal.
It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her.
As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman.
And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong.
Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.
Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own.
Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.
If only you could be like her.
As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.
“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.”
A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?
“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse.
“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”
Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line.
“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots.
The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.”
Oh… “He bought more than one?”
Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony.
“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”
Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.
This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi.
There was no you in that vision anymore.
The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.
You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband?
Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one.
At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free.
Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them.
You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest.
Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?
“Giddy up!”
Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.
My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy.
Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.
“Ah!”
Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part.
“Willow!”
You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.
“Nooo! Willow, no!”
Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.
You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell.
“Willow!”
Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness!
You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all.
That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon.
— —
“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.
“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”
He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”
“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”
…
…
“Y/N?”
“Y/N!”
“Are you out of your mind?!”
You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.
“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”
“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”
“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!”
“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!”
The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension.
“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.”
You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”
Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you.
With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.”
To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place.
“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.”
Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy.
“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?”
There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.
But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat.
Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.
“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.”
Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.”
“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”
“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…”
Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest.
“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.”
Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind.
It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right?
You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again.
You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself.
As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.”
That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever?
Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy.
The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital.
So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you?
“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed.
Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.”
You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son.
Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?
If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined.
And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse.
Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself?
The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage.
You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family.
Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight.
“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.”
You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?”
The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it.
“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.”
Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else.
Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired.
“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?”
She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.”
“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?”
“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.”
You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists.
Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there.
And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi.
“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”
You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera?
You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet.
“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.”
Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.”
Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life.
Both choices had no happy endings.
— —
When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind.
Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were?
He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse.
“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!”
“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?”
Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him?
According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them.
And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you.
Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in.
How sickeningly sweet.
At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality.
It was out of love that he let you go.
You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too.
Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife.
You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore.
So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses?
She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you.
He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off.
And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries.
This woman was all he needed.
But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider.
— —
The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important.
Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it?
You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman.
Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you.
How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it?
Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar.
How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life?
Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate?
God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third?
You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing.
“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions.
It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him.
“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”
Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you?
“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.”
Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.
“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”
You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget?
As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?”
“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart. “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.”
“Y/N.”
“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”
“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.”
“But—”
“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”
— —
It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore.
Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now.
He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway.
As for you, well…
“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?”
He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”
Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire.
These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor.
A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon?
Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news.
“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.”
Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?”
By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy.
“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son.
“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.”
Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?”
Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.”
Monaco? Why would you be there?
Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?”
“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”
No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself?
Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here.
Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth.
“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?
“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”
How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over?
“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”
Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now?
Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces?
Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.”
He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.
Yet none of it was given.
And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi?
#series: sincerely yours#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo angst#jjk angst
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: alastor x reader
author's notes: i wrote this fic a loong time ago and it was supposed to be a series but then my hyperfixation with hazbin hotel faded and other stuffs happened (*cof* *cof* college *cof* *cof*) so since i had fun writing it, and i started to watch hazbin hotel again and my hyperfixation is coming back i decided to post it and if pleople like it i might continue <3
p.s: i'm still writiing my logan howlett/phantom of the opera au hopefully i will post it soon <3
this wasn’t the first time that you felt you were being watched.
everything started when you left your parent’s house after college to have a fresh start in your life with a job in new orleans, the city where your grandma grew up, she was more than happy to let you stay at the house from her childhood, since no one lived there in a long time and she felt that a new generation was just what the house needed.
your first day at the new/old house went as well as one would expect, since most of the furniture was already in the house in some-what good conditions the only thing you took was your clothes, books and electronics.
that’s when everything started, on that first night at the house.
it was almost 4 am and you still were in your bed finishing some work for that day, when you saw the fist shadow, at first you thought it was your tiredness, you were awake looking at the computer screen for the past 5 hours trying to finish an important project, so you rubbed your eyes beneath the glasses, got more comfortable in the bed and continued your work.
but this time it wasn’t a shadow you saw, looking at you from the other side of the room was a man, he had deer ears on top of his head next to his antlers, he was wearing a red coat ragged along the bottom hem and long black dress pants, but the thing that stuck to you the most was his smile like a cheshire cat and black eyes with pupils shaped like radio dials.
with the blink of an eye tentacled emerged behind his back and grabbed both of your legs and arms beneath the blanket on top of your pressing your body in the bed until it hurted, you tries to fight back but the only thing you managed to accomplish was to drop your glasses on the floor breaking them, but you still could see him slowly walking towards you each step making him glitch in the reality until he was on top of you, you shut your eyes closed praying to whatever god that could hear you to help.
“ah, ah, ah!” the thing said, you could feel his hot breath on your cheek “i want you to look at me, my dear, i want to look at your eyes when i tell you that no matter the god you are praying he won’t be coming to help”
you opened one of your eyes, scared of what he may do if you didn’t comply.
“i want to look at your eyes and tell you that there’s no way of getting rid of me, darling, i have been interested in you since you crossed that door this morning, your blood smells so sweet i can’t wait to eat you up!”
you felt the dark tentacled slowly letting your arms and legs go free, you tried to get away from the man but he started to emit static noise that got more and more distorted until you had to put your hand on your ears to muffle the noise until…
you woke up.
you still had your computer on your lap, you were still beneath the covers and your glasses were on your face in one piece.
taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, telling yourself that it was only a nightmare and you were safe.
but when you turned your laptop off and turned around to try and get some actual sleep, you missed the shadow on your door silently watching you.
“i knew we shouldn’t have let him do this by himself” husk said, opening a bottle of whiskey
“what do you mean?” alastor asked, his smile widening “i even said ‘i want to eat you up’ that’s the most romantic thing in the world!”
“we’re screwed!” angel dust groaned from the other side of the room “freaky face doesn’t even know what ‘romance’ means! i bet he can’t make her fall in love with him until the deadline, the next extermination is just in a couple of months! you guys should have let me do it!”
“you know that’s not the deal with the angels” charlie said while vaggie patted her in the back “besides i know alastor is doing his best!”
everyone in the room rolled their eyes, they knew that the radio demon wouldn’t do a favor like that if he had nothing to gain from it, so far it looked like he wanted it all to fail spectacularly.
“charlie!” charlie’s father lucifer came running downstairs with something on his hand “i have a new letter from heaven”
“well since my job from the day seems to be over i will be going have some dinner” alastor interrupted the king of hell and walked towards his room.
“i wouldn’t do that if i were you” lucifer stepped in front of him “it has your name in it and for what i understand you will want to read this"
taken aback from the serious tone in lucifer’s voice alastor stopped in his tracks and snatched the letter from the hand of the blond man in front of him.
with a sigh the deer man sat in the stool at the bar while everyone tried to take a look behind his back at the letter but failing miserably.
alastor tried to read the letter with a calm demeanor but each line made his eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightened.
167 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Pen Pal Project
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x reader
Genres: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff
Warnings: Profanities, sappiness, cheating (third party), a tinsy hint of angst
Word Count: 10.2k
Summary: Over a decade of handwritten letters later, you can happily say that the Pen Pal Project was your greatest success.
Reaching up into the top shelf of the wardrobe, toppling onto your tiptoes in order to do so, your fingertips brush against a satin, bowed box. Pulling the box down to your chest, you perch at the edge of your large, periwinkle-sheeted bed, gingerly untangling the pretty blue ribbon and lifting the lid off of the top. Leafing your fingers through the stacks of paper inside, you feel a wave of nostalgia enrapturing your body. Your head rolls back, eyes falling shut as your mind is overtaken by memory.
"Honey, the guests will be here soon!" Your husband yells out from down the stairs.
"I'll just be a few minutes! Can you take the cake out, my love?" You call back, praying you have the time to reminisce before everyone arrives.
You gently pull out the first letter from the top of the stack.
April 5th 2007
Dear pen pal,
I am writing to you because my class has signed up for the Pen Pal Project this year. Because I don't know who you are or anything about you, I am going to answer some of the questions my teacher has given us, and hopefully you can answer them too in your reply!
1. What is your name?
My mom said that I shouldn't give out any personal information, so I can't actually answer this question. My friends all call me Dusty, so you can call me that too.
2. What hobbies do you enjoy?
I am really into skating, starcraft, hockey and rocks. Yesterday, me and my friends went out to the outskirts of the city to see if we could climb the big oak trees, and I found a piece of dolomite next to the river! I really want to find a meteorite but they're very rare so I think it'll take a lot of searching. I also play in my school's field hockey team - my mom wants me to stop playing because last week I cracked one of my teeth, but I think she's going to come around when she sees our tournament next weekend.
3. What do you want to do when you grow up?
My dad is a teacher and my mom is a nurse, so my parents want me to go to university and become a doctor or a professor, but I'd quite like to be an astronaut or Indiana Jones, whichever pays better.
4. What's one thing you want to know about your pen pal?
I want to know everything about you (more than one, sorry)! What's your school like? What year were you born in (mine is 1995)? What do you do for fun? Do you like dogs? Do you have a phone?
I'm not sure if I'll get a response to this letter, but if you do want to, I hope we can keep in touch for a long time :)
Yours truly,
Dusty
May 21st 2007
Dear Dusty,
I'm really glad I got your letter. Some of my friends got letters that didn't even have a return address, but thankfully I get to write back to you and answer some of your questions. I was also born in 1995 so we are same-age friends. I'm finding this year in school a bit harder because of all the tests we are doing, but we just started doing football again in Physical Education so it's not too bad. Sports are my biggest hobby - I do football and basketball and I want to start wrestling this year. I mostly like to go and play with my friends at the park. I'm on some of the school teams, but my friends tell me I'm too competitive to play professionally.
I also really like gaming and reading. I finished the Protoss campaign over the winter break, but I've had to stop now that school has started again. My friends are all really excited about the announcement of Starcraft II, are you too? Will you keep going with the original or switch to the new one?
When I grow up, I either want to do sports or I'll study to work a good job in business or finance. Being an astronaut would be so cool! You'd definitely be able to find a meteorite then.
About your other questions, I don't have a phone yet but I do love dogs. When I'm older I want at least one dog, if not more. Do you have any pets?
I hope that we can keep writing to each other too - it's fun to have a secret friend.
From,
Cherry
January 4th 2011
Dear Cherry,
Sorry it's been a while - I've been really busy over the winter break, but I just had my tonsils removed so I have a bit of free time in recovery to write this letter. Before you ask, no - I didn't wake up during the surgery which I was a bit disappointed about, but I did manage to swallow enough blood to make me throw up after waking up so that was kinda crazy.
I can't believe that your friend did that! One time my friend Jiwoo got suspended for unscrewing all of the lightbulbs in the science classrooms, but that was because of a dare, not her own free will! I've never been suspended before, but I came close for tardiness last year. Have you ever been suspended?
I also appreciated your inquiry into the Heiran - Hyunki situation. I can't believe I forgot to update you in my last letter, and you'll be glad to receive it! Unbelievably, they got back together. I know it's what we feared would happen, but apparently Heiran has made some of her own mistakes in the relationship, so she's willing to overlook the whole thing. Absolutely crazy - I think that she's just scared to break up with him, which I suppose is a fair concern - just not for a 16-year-old. The whole situation really made me think about the purpose of relationships and love. All of my friends keep rushing into relationships this year, and I feel like I'm being left behind. I just don't care as much as they do, but they act like I'm some alien creature for not wanting to make out with someone in the school locker rooms. Perhaps this isn't something you can relate to, but it would be nice to know if you think I'm justified in my opinion or if there really is something wrong with me.
The thought of starting school again after the break is actually making me want to run away to the mountains. My sister is leaving for university and I don't want to go to school without her. Of course, I can't tell her that, but it's going to be really lonely walking in on my own. Plus, my parents' attention is firmly on me now, so I can't mess up in exams this year. The amount of pressure is going to make my head explode. How are you feeling about the year? I guess because you have the football season to look forward to your mind is probably focused on that?
I'm thinking about rejoining hockey this year. Even though it was too much last year, I did really miss it and I think I can better manage my time now that I don't have to be in the choir anymore. I think my mom might have a fit when I tell her, but the way you talked about sports really made me miss playing. Plus, apparently, I need an outlet for all these teenage hormonal emotions seeing as I'm not getting it on in the McDonald's parking lot.
Anyways, I need to get going now so I have time to blend some fruit up before lunchtime.
Yours truly,
Dusty
A chuckle leaves your lips as you read back over your letter. You'd been so worried about who was dating who and, more importantly, who you weren't dating. You were always so grateful for someone to discuss your fears with - your friends at the time certainly didn't understand. You'd had your first kiss a few weeks after you'd sent the letter. A party at a friend of a friend's house had devolved into typical teenage party games and you'd been pressured into kissing a boy whose name you couldn't remember. In fairness, you remembered that he was cute - curly dark hair and sharp cheekbones - but you'd made a joke about not being able to engage in tonsil tennis and he hadn't laughed so you'd known he wasn't the one.
June 27th 2011
Dear Dusty,
I finally asked out Myunghee and she said yes -
Nuh uh, skip that one.
October 23rd 2013
Dear Dusty,
All the kids in the year have planned a big Halloween party to celebrate our last your of high school. It's pretty exciting - apparently, they've bought some major decorations and they're going to set out the host's house to have scary surprises in all the rooms. I wouldn't be surprised if someone dresses up and decides to chase drunk kids around all night. It's a bittersweet feeling - our last Halloween party, but perhaps our best? Do you have any plans for Halloween and the holidays? I'm thinking of doing a Superman costume, but I'm wondering if that's a bit too obvious?
I put off writing about it first because I didn't want to open the letter with bad news, but I wanted to let you know that me and Myunghee broke up. Even though it's pretty sad, I've known it was coming for a while. If you remember my last letter, I told you about the fight that we had about next year, and I think that was really the beginning of the end. I was hoping that we could make it work a bit longer, but she said that we'd just be dragging out the inevitable and I guess she's right. I think I'm still a bit annoyed about the rollercoaster of the last month seeing if she's known the whole time that we should break up but I'll get over it. It's mostly just weird not having her around all the time. Everywhere feels a lot emptier now. I'm glad I can write to you about this - it's a bit awkward talking about it with my friends because they are also friends with her, but I can actually be honest with you.
Anyway, I hope you are doing a bit better than me. Your date sounded pretty cool - I've always wanted to go on an ice-skating date but I'd be a bit scared of falling over and making a fool of myself so I admire your confidence. If you are still seeing him, I hope he's treating you well. Chocolates and flowers at least once a month - and you can tell him I said so if he asks. If you're not seeing him, I (pre-emptively) can't believe he did that to you! What a jerk...
Are you watching the AFC Champions League final? A few friends and I are going to go down to the bar to watch it together and pray for a good result - either way, it should be fun. I suppose your dad will have it on in the house, but I'll be shocked if you tell me you're going to watch it with him after last time. Best to avoid the flying wrath of a TV remote. There's something about dads and sports, isn't there? I wonder if I'll be like that when I'm an adult. I hope not, but I already get too into it so maybe it's inevitable.
Yours,
Cherry
That date had been a good one as far as you remember, but the memory has become blurry after all the times your husband has taken you ice-skating since. You'd dated that guy for a few more weeks after this, but he made a weird comment to one of his friends when he didn't think you could hear it so you knew he wasn't the one.
Finishing high school and moving on to university had been a formative time for you. You gained a sense of identity that you'd lost as a teenager, and reconnected with your younger self. A smile crinkles your lips as you think about that time. The stupid escapades of adults let loose on their own for the first time, the lifelong friends you'd made, and the wealth of knowledge you'd gained about yourself and about the world. Your husband never attended university so he never experienced any of that, but you suppose he did have his own life-changing revelations during this time.
February 8th 2015
Dear Cherry,
I'm in crisis and I need your advice! I haven't spoken to anyone else about this yet, but I have a feeling building in me that needs to be released and you always give me the best advice. I'm thinking about dropping out of my program.
I know this sounds super rash and stupid, but I really hate it. I find it so dull and confusing, and everyone else is much better at it than I am. And, if I'm really being honest, I only chose medicine because my mother wanted me to. I would feel so stupid revealing that to anyone else, but I think you already knew that was the case. I'm struggling to keep going with it without the passion that other students seem to have, and when I hear about my friends' courses they sound so much more interesting.
If I actually go through with it, this may be the last letter I write to you. But, given that I survived my mother's wrath, a life studying literature or archaeology sounds so much more fulfilling to my brain even if not my pockets. What do you think about all of this? Is it worth following a passion that may lead to nothing or sticking it out with a stable, reliable path to future success without enjoyment?
As you know, I make very impulsive decisions, so I need your help in deciding whether or not this would be one of those.
Yours truly,
Dusty
P.S. I got asked to the dance by this really attractive guy who works at the coffee shop on campus so not everything is going wrong.
P.S.S. I found a rock which I thought was a meteorite but it was actually a magnetite - better luck next time!
You'd dropped out of your medicine major the moment you'd received the reply. Of course, your pen pal was a lot more supportive of your decision than your parents were but they got over it in time. Your fate had been decided the moment you'd stepped out of your first archaeology class - heart beaming and mind brimming with all of your plans for the future. Despite your parents' apprehensions, it had been the right decision. It didn't take long for your burning enthusiasm and insatiable appetite for learning to be picked up by your professors, and by your second year in the major you'd been invited on an exclusive trip one of your professors was going on with a handful of other students.
It was around this time that you'd started wondering more about your pen pal. The flutters of your heart each time the small envelope appeared in your dorm pigeonhole had been drowned out by the rush of university life. Reflecting back, your obliviousness to your own emotions makes you shake your head in disbelief. But then, you'd met Daejung. He'd taken you out dancing, brought you flowers and laughed at your jokes, and you began to wonder if he was the one.
May 16th 2017
Dear Dusty,
Officially, you may know me better than anyone else. I know I already sent you a letter this month that you probably haven't even received, but I realised that it is the tenth anniversary since I received your first letter. Not to be soppy, but it truly means the world to me that we've been able to keep up this correspondence this whole time.
As far as I'm aware, we won the Pen Pal Project. No one else I know stayed in touch with their childhood pen pal for nearly as long as we have, and I think that we deserve some kind of reward for it.
But, beyond any records we must have broken, I'm most grateful for the friendship we have developed. In any other circumstances, I would have said that it was impossible for people who have never met to be each other's closest confidants, but I can confidently say that there is nothing I wouldn't tell you. If it turns out you've been some 60-year-old man this whole time, consider me logged off from this life.
My wish is that we can keep doing this for as long as we are able to hold pens in our hands, and even then I'd consider getting a scribe to write the letters for me.
As a gift, I feel that it's about time that I tell you my name - my real name. If you (and your mom) still don't feel comfortable sharing yours then Dusty is still perfectly fine for me, but the fundamental disconnect between telling a person your deepest secrets and not telling them your name has gotten too overwhelming for me, so it's time to rectify that.
Yours,
Seungcheol
P.S. If you still want to call me Cherry that's also a-okay!
The first time Seungcheol revealed his name to you, you remember you'd dropped the letter in shock. As if knowing his name changed things, as if he didn't live a completely separate life from you already. It wasn't like knowing who he was would change anything about your life - you had no connection to him other than your letters - but the intimacy of his name had you staggering a few steps backwards, eye bulging from your head at the fallen letter. It seems rather overdramatic now, but in hindsight it always does.
This letter had been a bit of a turning point in your relationship, beyond the end of the nicknames you'd used for ten years. You'd always felt close enough to Seungcheol to pour your heart out to him in writing, but the closeness you felt was compounded in this letter. You wipe a few rogue tears from your eyes as you read back over it, moved by the raw declarations Seungcheol had been brave enough to express. If you really think about it, this letter was the first time you'd truly tried to picture what your pen pal looked like. Up until this point, you'd been enflamed by his words and unloaded all of your deepest thoughts to him in return, but this was the first time that you'd realised that your pen pal was a real man your age that you were already deeply connected to. The thought had been scandalous in your mind, and the shame that overwhelmed you when you'd met up with Daejung later that day made it hard to look him in the eye. Fantasising about a man you had never seen before had felt as bad as cheating, and the various forms of him that had appeared in your dreams for the rest of the week only compounded your guilt.
August 4th 2018
Dear Seungcheol,
Happy 24th Birthday! It's actually shocking to me to think that we're this old already, but I think mid-20s is a label that suits you well these days. Jokes aside, I hope you have a really lovely day doing whatever it is you have planned. I'll assume you're off bungee jumping with Jeonghan or on an all-inclusive golfing retreat until you tell me otherwise. In all cases, I hope that you are surrounded by friends and family to remind you how special you are.
Also, congratulations on your new job! I can't believe you didn't tell me that you were interviewing for it, but I suppose you didn't want to jinx anything by putting it into writing. I always thought that coaching would suit you - you could scare me into coming to practice any day! You should be really proud of yourself; I know that I am.
You'll never guess who got in contact with me this week! All out of nowhere, I got a message from Heiran of all people inviting me to her and Hyunki's wedding! I guess I was really wrong about that one... For their sake, I hope that their relationship is a bit better than it was in school. I was very surprised to be invited seeing as we haven't spoken in years, but I suppose it'll be nice to see everyone from school again. Perhaps I should tell Daejung that he can't come and you can be my plus one instead - I think you know the couple better than he does!
Another one of my friends just gave birth to a baby boy. All of this marrying and birth-giving is really screwing with my head. As far as I was aware, that's a thing that proper adults do and we're nowhere close to that yet. Even if I know that 24 is a very common age to be doing that stuff, it's still more than my brain can process. Once again, I am left behind as everyone else moves on to the next stage of life. I'm grateful, at least, that Daejung is pretty relaxed about all of that stuff. Hoping we can have a few more years before we start thinking about any of it - I still have so much travelling to do, things to see, and meals to eat before I flush all of my money down the toilet.
Jiwoo got really excited this week because she thought she saw Lee Byunghun walking past her work, so that made me feel a bit better about my life priorities.
Yours truly,
(Y/n)
P.S. I'm spending extra money to make sure this gets to you on time, so if it doesn't you cannot blame me.
P.P.S. My new address is - XXX
That year you and Daejung had finally moved in together. The apartment was small and in a less-than-nice area, but you'd been ecstatic at the chance to live with the man you loved. It had been a rough year before that - Daejung had missed out on a job offer for his dream role and you weren't able to go abroad on an excavation because he didn't want you to leave for months just as you were moving in together - but you'd seen the new apartment as symbolic of the new beginning you two would get together.
You'd also thought a lot about meeting up with Seungcheol that year. Looking back, it was crazy that you never did. Both of you expressed a will to do so, but something had always prevented you from actually doing it. You were completing your postgraduate degree part-time and working a service job that was supporting both you and Daejung at the start of the year, moving in together in the middle of the year, and Seungcheol had gotten busy with his new job in the latter half of the year. Even though you had never met up before, that you weren't able to that year was the first time it felt like a loss.
December 12th 2019
Dear (Y/n),
I've been thinking about you a lot recently. Writing to you has been the highlight of my month for a while now, and I'm so proud of you for everything you've achieved. It's amazing that you're already being asked to go on your first excursion as a proper expert, and I hope that Daejung comes around to the idea of you being away for so long. I'm sure that I'll miss your letters so I can imagine he's feeling much worse about it - but that shouldn't stop you from going. You might find an ancient vase and accidently release a curse upon the world, or discover a new dinosaur! Even if you go and are just digging up dirt with no results, I'll still be impressed.
One of the kids I mentor asked me if I knew what Starcraft was yesterday, and at that moment I really felt my age. I think it's led to some level of introspection I usually avoid, but one thing that has become clear to me is that I'm very grateful for this friendship. I hope that one day soon you can perhaps travel to Daegu and visit, or I can come see you in Seoul. Or perhaps it will take away the great fun of having a pen pal if we meet - you may be expecting someone completely opposite from me and seeing me may ruin the magic?
But the main reason I've been thinking about you is because I finally finished Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982. You were very correct in your recommendation - I can't believe it took me so long to read it! Summary of thoughts: I'm raging and also apologising to my mother and grandmother every time I see them. You have to send me another recommendation now that I'm finished - maybe some sort of mystery or thriller if you know any?
Yours,
Seungcheol
P.S. I suppose I should send you a whip and brown fedora and then you can officially say you're Indiana Jones.
January 7th 2021
Dear Seungcheol,
I'm glad you had fun on your trip! The picture you sent of the mountains was absolutely gorgeous and was a hilarious reminder that I have no idea what you look like. I keep saying I want to go to Japan but can hardly find the time, but after seeing the picture I really must go now.
I have some big news.
Daejung proposed and we're getting married!!
I know it's a bit out of the blue - I was surprised too. He's been putting off any mention of marriage for the last few months so I assumed he just wasn't interested but I guess that was all a cover to stop me from suspecting the proposal. It happened a few days after I got back from Vienna. It was really sweet - he threw this big party with all of our close friends and family to celebrate the end of my project and proposed at the end of the night. I was pretty shocked which I suppose was the point, but I'm really just excited that we're taking that step together.
My main purpose for writing is that I wanted to invite you to the wedding. It's a big step, but it wouldn't feel right to get married without one of my oldest friends there. If you decide you don't want to and you want to keep our friendship strictly on paper then I'd totally understand. But if you do want to come, we'd love to have you with us. I'll cover any travel and hotel fees if it means I can have you here.
Your continued support via letter means the world to me.
Yours truly,
(Y/n)
The wedding. Oh, the wedding.
A few nights before your wedding Daejung had come to the hotel you'd been staying in that week to finalise all of the preparations and observe some old-fashioned pre-wedding rituals your mother insisted on as if you and Daejung hadn't lived together for years before that. He'd given you a marriage gift a bit early because you were supposed to go straight to your honeymoon in Japan on the day of the wedding. Your heart fluttered in excitement as you opened the box, electrified at the surprise of what your future-husband could have gotten you to symbolise your union together. The reality had been, you could now admit, disappointing. The necklace had been pretty, and certainly not cheap. A silver heart set with a gleaming diamond to match the ring that Daejung had picked out for you. You'd smiled, thanking him for the gift and tried to ignore the discontent brewing in your own heart.
The first time you saw Seungcheol was at your wedding reception. Because of his job and the distance, he hadn't been able to make your morning ceremony, but the fact that he even chose to come all that way meant a lot to you.
"Who's the hunk with the green scarf?" One of your bridesmaids, Jiwoo had asked, pointing out a man standing alone by one of the drinks tables.
For a moment you didn't want to believe that it was him, but who else would be at your wedding that you didn't recognise? Tall and broad with fluffy hair and a handsome-beyond-belief face, Seungcheol had been a picture to witness. All dressed up in a suit, you thought he looked rather like a super spy or a CEO from one of those corny romance books. In any case, you were shocked to your core that that was the man you'd spilt your darkest secrets to for over a decade now.
"Oh, I think that might be Seungcheol," You breathed, voice wavering with uncertainty even though you were now certain it was him.
"Seungcheol - hmm, why does that name sound so familiar?" Your other bridesmaid, Mirae, pondered, her brow crinkled as she tried to identify the name in her memory.
"Oh my god, you invited your pen pal to your wedding?!" Jiwoo exclaimed, spinning on her heel to give you an incredulous look.
"Of course I did, I've known him for almost as long as I've known you!" You stuttered, your head still trying to play catch-up after the dizzying appearance of said topic of conversation.
"Why didn't you tell me that your pen pal was so hot?" Mirae scoffed, mock fanning her face in a way that made you feel shamefully irritated.
"Surprisingly, he didn't mention it in his letters." You responded, offering her a deadpan look and an eyebrow raise. She shrugged, but you'd known that wouldn't be the end of that conversation.
About 15 minutes later, you'd finally managed to make your way over to Seungcheol's perch. It was hard to decipher if your delay was because of all of the people trying to talk to you at the same time (perks of it being your wedding) or because of the unexplained fear and anxiety that was bubbling inside you at the prospect of finally meeting him face-to-face. As you finally made eye-contact, and he'd flashed his teeth at you in an infectious grin, you'd felt all of that melt away from you.
"Hi," You greeted, not able to wipe your own smile from your face.
"Hi," He responded, a peace settling between the two of you. "You look really beautiful."
Your face was all ablush and you felt a sense of dread at what would happen if you started like this. Starting down at your dress, you were unable to look back up at him.
"Thank you, I had it specially made," You smiled, your eyes gleaming as he chuckled at your joke. "I really appreciate you coming all this way, it means so much to me that you're here. Please let me know if there's anything you need - have you eaten yet? I can get you some-"
"It's okay, I'm feeling great." His hand reached out to still your own, which you hadn't realised was nervously picking at at skin around your nails.
"I can't believe that this is how we're first meeting," You breathed, a sense of shyness overwhelming you at the feeling of his skin against yours.
"If you ask me, we've definitely met before. Just not physically." His words had your head spinning so much that you were struggling to remember that you were both at your wedding.
"Poetic," You agreed, trying to present at least outwardly calmer than you felt inside.
"Oh! Before I forget, I got you this." Seungcheol extended a hand out with a small, wrapped box in his palm. "It wasn't on the registry, and really it's only for you so I thought I should give it to you personally instead of putting it on the gifts table."
"That's really generous of you, you didn't have to." You offered him a shy smile, taking the gift from him. The neatly wrapped box had been laced shut with a pretty blue ribbon, and you remember the thumping of your heart in your chest as you undid it. A small gasp involuntarily left your mouth, your hand moving to cover it in shock.
"Important backstory - I found it a few years after you told me you were looking for it. I wanted to just send it to you then, but I thought that I should keep it for when we met. I never thought that it would take so long to do so, but I hung on to it just in case."
A small chunk of dark meteorite sat in the box in your hand. Looking up and down between Seungcheol and the rock, you felt your eyes well up with tears that you had to force back down to not ruin your wedding makeup.
"Oh wow," Your voice cracked, "Seungcheol, this is seriously so sweet. I'm shocked that you kept this for me."
You felt unable to tell him all of your emotions, hoping that the gratitude in your eyes was enough to express them all to him. The sweet, adoring expression on his face told you that he understood without you needing to say any more.
That, unfortunately, had been the highlight of your wedding.
Not an hour later, it had all gone to shit, starting with a well-intentioned comment from your best friend.
"The wedding is so gorgeous (Y/n), I'll have to take notes for my own." Jiwoo gushed, pointing at all the flowers that had now been revealed as people moved into the outside area of the venue.
"I know, Daejung did a really good job picking out this place."
"I'm so happy for you two, especially after the whole Vienna situation."
A bolt of alarm rang through your bones as you a struck still by the comment. You didn't miss the panicked look Mirae sent Jiwoo, who looked equally as confused as you felt.
"What-" You tried to compose yourself amongst the rushes of fear that were threatening to render you completely useful. "What do you mean the Vienna situation?"
Jiwoo was now floundering, looking between you and Mirae with a gaping mouth.
"I just meant - I mean, nevermind - I thought... I thought you knew?" The last whispered part had your heart sinking to the bottom of your chest. Mirae was refusing to meet your gaze, and that was telling you all you needed to know.
"Did something happen when I was away?" You demanded, your voice slick with emotion.
"(Y/n)..." Mirae started, but the withering look you gave her immediately stopped her placating.
Four words later and your entire life had exploded. He cheated on you. Whilst you were away, no less. And then, as if it would magically make everything better, proposed instead of telling you.
The look on your then-husband's face when you stormed up to him demanding to know the truth was enough to convince you of the reality of your friend's words. You could now admit, amidst all of the hurt, anger and disgust you felt towards Daejung at that moment, your overriding emotion was utter panic at the thought of having to tell all of your guests that the wedding was to be stopped and annulled. A trivial emotion amongst the personal grief you were experiencing, but undoubtedly the cause of your greatest distress at the moment.
You didn't see Seungcheol as or after it all happened. Any pretence of calm instantly slipped the moment you began speaking to your family and friends - a speech which ended with you in floods of tears being escorted away from the hosts of shocked guests. It was only hours later that you realised that you hadn't said goodbye and, worse, that you'd invited him all of this way just to witness the shitshow that was your failed marriage. Too ashamed to burden him further, you chose not to write to him for months afterwards He gave you space too, and you weren't sure if you felt grateful for it or utterly alarmed that he may just never want to speak to you again.
May 6th 2021
Dear Seungcheol,
I'm deeply sorry for my complete silence, although I suppose I do not need to explain to you the reason for it. My hand has been itching to pick up my pen and write to you every month that goes by, but only now have I overcome my own shame and disgrace to do so. First of all, I have to sincerely apologise for making you waste your time coming to such an awful event. I can only hope that you managed to get a slice of cake before it all fell apart so that I could at least offer you the condolence of a delicious snack. I also must apologise for completely abandoning you during your trip to the city. I was really looking forward to showing you my favourite spots, and I let my own misery get in the way of being a good host.
I hope you are well. As I haven't heard from you in a little while, I don't know what's going on with you so I have little to comment on. But, at the very least, I wish for your good health and general happiness. If you are worried about me, you don't need to be. I have taken the last few months to put my life back together, and I feel like I'm making better progress these days - hence the letter writing. I'm thinking of getting a dog for companionship since I have vehemently sworn off men for the foreseeable future.
I also wanted you to know that I treasure your gift. As it turns out, meeting you and getting a meteorite was the best part of that night, if you'll believe it. I have it kept in a special box on my desk just to make sure that it's safe and that I'll never lose it. I wish I could have given you something in return. If we end up meeting again I'll have to start planning now to make sure my gift is just as good as yours was. Speaking of, you are welcome to come and stay with me any time you want, and we can rain-check that city tour. Alternatively, if you want to ignore this letter and never speak to me again, I'd also understand.
Yours truly,
(Y/n) 2021
May 19th 2021
Dear (Y/n),
I'm so glad to have heard from you, and that you are doing okay. As much as I appreciate all of your apologies, none of them are necessary. If anything, I feel that I should be apologising to you for leaving you in the dark for just as long as you left me - you had a much better excuse too. Although I didn't want to overwhelm you with letters after such awful news, I realise now that leaving it so long was not the right course of action.
I think getting a dog is a fantastic idea. Company is something you'll never lack with a dog around, and I can agree that dogs are much better companions than men.
As for me, I am doing well too. It's mostly just been a cycle of work and sleep, so I haven't got much to report, but I'm hoping for a more eventful summer. Visiting the city would be a wonderful way to achieve this, so perhaps closer to the time I'll write again to arrange coming to stay with you. I would love to see you again soon. My only other news that I know you'd be interested in is that Jeonghan has seemingly met someone. He's keeping all of the details close to the chest, so I'll have to update you in the next letter when I know more, but it's an exciting revelation. He seems very happy, which is all I can hope for.
When I told you that I wouldn't stop writing to you until I could no longer hold a pen in my hand, I meant it. I hope that you will never again think that I wouldn't want to speak to you -it's the highlight of my day.
Yours,
Seungcheol
P.S. I'm sure you don't want to talk about the wedding, but just so you know - he was a fucking fool to let you go.
You remember the relief you'd felt at getting that letter. The uncertainty of whether or not Seungcheol still wanted to talk to you was enough to keep you on edge for the entire 13 days that it took for you to get his response. But, as always, your friend was reliably there for you.
The time you'd taken over those last new months, and the few months afterwards had been tumultuous, but cleansing. In your post-marriage clarity, you'd realised all of the opportunities you'd missed because of Daejung. Deciding that you wouldn't let him take anything else from you, you'd arranged to go on a long excursion you'd waved off for wedding planning when you'd first heard about it. Learning about the project from one of your old professors who'd transferred to Cairo University, you were offered a position on the ongoing expedition in Saqqara. Although Egyptology was not your speciality, your master's dissertation on the mummified scarab beetles found at Saqqara in 2018 and your tutor's reference got you onto a low-level position on the expedition.
Six months in Egypt had been exactly what you needed to move on from Daejung. At that time, your relationship with your closest friends was also on the rocks, and it was really only Seungcheol and your family that you missed during your time abroad.
December 23rd 2021
Dear Seungcheol,
I've finally got some time off over the holiday break, and I'm ready to give you the download of everything that's happening here in Saqqara! But, first, I'm going to have to beg you for the details of your double date with Jeonghan and Jooyeon. How was it!? Was Jooyeon's friend nice? Were there sparks? How many times did Jeonghan bring up embarrassing stories about you as a kid?
I hope it went well - you deserve all of the happiness in the world.
Now, onto the important stuff!
I'm not sure if you saw on the news, but we've made some pretty huge finds since I got here, Obviously, I can't give myself all the credit, but just being part of the team that made it happen is pretty incredible. We've found multiple tombs of dignitaries from the reign of Ramses II. I'm doing a bit of research on one of the tombs, belonging to a military leader called Hor Mohib, but I have to keep taking breaks every 20 minutes to pinch my arm and remind myself that this is reality.
My Arabic has gotten significantly better now - I was rather rusty when I first got here. I'm able to have reasonably complex conversations with the Egyptian members of the team and the locals helping out, and it's pretty cool for my nerd brain to be surrounded by a group of people equally as excited to be digging up ornamental graves as I am.
I'm really glad I came. It's hard to admit, even to you, but my life really fell apart after the wedding. Honestly, I didn't even know if I wanted to keep working in archaeology or if I wanted to jet off to Iceland and buy a farm. And the worst bit is that it's been so lonely since. Losing Daejung was one thing, but I haven't spoken to Jiwoo or Mirae since. I can't bear to look at them knowing that they hid that secret from me for so long. Maybe one day I'll be able to forgive them, but it certainly won't be now. Your letters have been my only sanctuary of human connection in these past few months, and that's something I'll have to add to my list of neverending gratitude I hold for you.
I realize now that I haven’t been very good at expressing how much your friendship means to me, how it's been my lifeline in this mess. Your letters are the only constant, the only thing that feels like home even when I am surrounded by ancient wonders and new colleagues.
And so, I have a confession. I want to see you again. I want to tell you all of this in person. I can't say what will come of it, but I know that after all of these years, after all the letters and confessions and secrets shared, we owe it to ourselves to meet in a way that isn't rushed or overshadowed by anything else.
Maybe we could meet halfway between Seoul and Daegu, or I could take the train down to visit you? I need to see you again, not as a guest at my ruined wedding, but as Seungcheol, the one person who’s known me at my best and worst, and still chooses to write back.
Let me know what you think.
Yours truly,
(Y/n)
P.S. I've included a small rock I found on the dig - nothing special but it reminded me of our old conversations. I hope it makes you smile.
P.P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like to see you again.
You can't quite recall what possessed you to write such a bold letter. Perhaps it had been the desert sun, the thrill of discovering something new in something old at Saqqara, or simply your immense loneliness.
Days had turned into weeks as you anxiously waited for a response, checking your makeshift mailbox daily. Then one morning, there it was—a simple white envelope with Seungcheol’s familiar sloping handwriting.
January 17th 2022
My Dear (Y/n),
I've thought about meeting you countless times since our first encounter. After reading your words, I realise that I've been waiting for this just as much as you have. How's this - I'll take the first train up to Seoul when you're back and we can spend the day together. No distractions, no interruptions - just you and me, finally getting to know each other beyond the pages of our letters.
I'm looking forward to me, more than I can express. Until I see you again, take care, and know that I'm counting down the days.
All yours,
Seungcheol
P.S. the best bit about the date was spending time with Jeonghan. No more needs to be said.
You stare down at the letter, your heart pacing as fast as it had the first time you'd received it. Beautiful words from a beautiful man with a beautiful soul.
You'd gotten back to Seoul by the end of March 2022, and, as promised, Seungcheol came to visit you that first weekend in April. When he'd stepped off the train in the bustling station at the heart of the city, you were there to greet him. You'd spotted him standing there, taller even than you'd remembered, with that same easy smile that had always leapt off of the page.
The world around you had seemed to blur as you walked toward each other, nerves fluttering in your stomach but quickly dissolving as he pulled you into a gentle, lingering hug. The connection between you, once confined to words on paper, felt more real than ever.
You spent the day wandering through the city, visiting old bookstores, sipping coffee in quiet cafes, and talking as if no time had passed since that fateful wedding reception. Every shared laugh, every story swapped, deepened the bond you'd forged in ink.
June 14th 2022
Seungcheol,
It feels like only yesterday that we were wandering through Seoul together, but at the same time, it feels like a lifetime ago. I keep finding myself replaying that day in my mind - how easy it was to talk to you in person, as if we'd done it a hundred times before. It's strange, isn't it? How someone can feel so familiar, even when they're a whole new experience at the same time.
I've been thinking about our conversation in the bookstore. You said something about how some stories are better left unfinished, that sometimes the best part of a tale is imagining what could be. I can't stop thinking about that - about how some stories do need an ending, and how others are meant to keep going, even if we don’t know where they’ll lead.
There's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I haven't found the right words yet. I guess I'm still figuring it out myself. It's just that being around you feels different to how I expected. There's a comfort, yes, but also something more, something I can't quite define. It's like we're on the edge of something new, and it's exciting and a little terrifying at the same time. I'm not sure if you feel it too, but I hop you do.
Anyway, I don't want to get too ahead of myself as usual. I'm just really glad we've reconnected, and that we've managed to keep in touch after all these years.
It means more to me than I can say. Let’s make sure our next meeting isn’t too far off—I’m already looking forward to it.
Until then, take care of yourself, and don’t work too hard. I’ll be watching the clock until I see you again.
Yours,
(Y/n)
That day in April 2022 hadn't been the last time you saw Seungcheol. You'd made that mistake once in the past, and neither of you was willing to do so again. He continued to come to Seoul to see you, and you travelled down to Daegu to meet him and his friends. Your letters ceased for a while over this time due to the frequency you were seeing each other, but for the first time that didn't bother you.
You remember, with teary eyes, the day that you finally confessed your feelings.
It was 25th September 2022, after a whole summer spent together, and the air was tinged with the first hint of autumn's chill. THe leaves were just beginning to turn, painting the streets in warm hues of amber and crimson as you walked side by side in a quiet part in Seoul. The easy laughter and conversation that had marked your friendship over the years felt heavier that day, as it something unspoken was lingering in the crisp air between you.
You had spent countless days together that summer - visiting museums, trying new restaurants, even embarking on a spontaneous week trip to the coast. Each moment with Seunngchaeol had felt like a dream, a slow realisation that your heart was no longer just content with friendship. But with that realization came a fear you hadn't expected. What if this was enough for him? What if risking everything by confessing how you truly felt would unravel the beautiful bond you had spent so many years cultivating?
That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the park, you found yourselves sitting on a bench overlooking a small pond. The water was still, reflecting the fiery colours of the sky, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. Seungcheol had been quieter than usual that day, his expression pensive as if he, too, was wrestling with unspoken thoughts.
You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat louder than the last as you tried to summon the courage to speak. The words were caught in your throat, but the fear of losing him if you didn’t say them was stronger. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, you turned to him, your voice trembling as you broke the silence.
"Seungcheol," you began, your hands nervously fidgeting in your lap. He turned to look at you, his eyes soft and attentive, encouraging you to continue. "There’s something I need to tell you… something I’ve been feeling for a while now."
His gaze didn’t waver, but you noticed the slight hitch in his breath, the way his fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the bench. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, everything else fading away as you gathered your thoughts.
"I—" You paused, trying to find the right words, but there were none that seemed adequate to express the depth of your feelings. "I think I’ve fallen in love with you."
The admission hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that you could no longer take back. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the world holding its breath as you waited for his response. You searched his face for any sign of what he might be thinking, every second feeling like an eternity.
Then, without a word, Seungcheol reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped down your cheek. There was a tenderness in his touch, a warmth that radiated through you, calming your racing heart.
"I’ve been waiting to hear those words," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Because I’ve been feeling the same way for a long time too."
His words washed over you, a wave of relief and joy so overwhelming that you felt your breath hitch. You had been so afraid, so uncertain, and now, with his quiet confession, all those fears melted away. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you needed to, but you didn’t. You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender kiss that felt like a promise—one of many yet to come.
Hearing the doorbell ring down below you, and the sound of your husband's voice calling out to say he'll get it, you rush forward to reach your favourite letter - just one more before you return to reality.
November 3rd 2023
My dearest (Y/n),
I'm so glad you're having such a good time in Rome - I'm rather jealous of all of your sightseeing and pasta-eating. Kkuma and I are holding the fort down at home, although I had to be scolded yesterday for breaking the toaster when I tried to make Kkuma some breakfast. I sent some more suncream over in the mail because I know you've already run out and forgotten to get some more - I'm not sure if this letter will reach you first, but if it does look out for the parcel.
Now, I'll admit, the main purpose of my letter is something a little different than simply catching up, as much as I love those letters too. I thought about doing this once you returned home, but you've already had one man declare his everlasting intentions to you after you returned from an excursion, so I thought it better to avoid rehashing those memories (we'll do this again when you're home, but I thought it might be fun to do it this way).
If you have the suncream box already, then you may have a sneaking suspicion of what I'm about to say.
I've loved you for as long as I've known you. As a twelve-year-old kid, I didn't know that was what it was, but the level of obsession I had with writing to you and receiving your replies was beyond any normal friendship. You were always so fascinatingly cool, out of reach, and genuinely yourself. Being in love with your pen pal isn't always an easy thing - the cold sweats I would wake up to after dreaming about meeting for the first time, the constant updates about a life that I wasn't a part of, the announcement of your engagement to another person. I tried to pretend it wasn't real for a long time, see other people, because of how silly I felt about being in love with someone I'd never met.
And then I saw you standing there, in that beautiful white gown with your hair up and that gorgeous smile on your face. Did you know that my hands were sweating when I gave you that gift? I don't think I've ever told you that before. I became certain then that I was completely screwed. Entirely head over heels.
I'll never be happy that that marriage didn't work out for you - all I've ever wanted is your happiness, be that with me or someone else. But I won't lie and say that nothing has made me happier than the consequences of it.
This past year has been the happiest time I've ever known. Every moment with you is filled with such joy, and every moment without I'm left with a record of memories to remind me of the time we've had together. When I look at you, I don't just see my past, but also my future. I see a lifetime of shared experiences, of laughter, or quiet moments that mean more than words ever could. I see us growing old together, supporting each other, and playing trash hockey on the wooden floor of our kitchen.
You are my best friend, my partner, the love of my life. And I want to spent every day making sure you know just how much you mean to me.
So, that being said, will you (Y/n) (Y/l/n), do me the honour of marrying me?
All yours,
Seungcheol
P.S. Please don't feel pressured to say yes, but know that I would really like it if you did.
You fiddle with the precious ring on your left hand, your fingers lingering over the smooth chunk of dark stone in the centre.
A gentle brush of a hand on your shoulders brings you back to the real world, tears now flaking on your cheeks as you sniffle at the words on the page.
"Are you okay, darling?" Seungcheol asks gently.
"Yes, sorry, I know the guests are here now - I just wanted to look at these," You reply, holding up the letters for your husband to see.
You watch his expression soften, a suggestion of moisture in the corner of his eyes as he looks over the written words.
Swooping down, he places a long, loving kiss on your forehead, letting your bodies rest together in harmony for a moment.
"I can't believe they still make me cry," You huff, letting out a soft laugh. "And I don't even think I can brush it off as hormones."
"Seeing that just looking at them has me tearing up, I don't think I can either." Seungcheol smiles, stroking the back of your hair affectionately.
"They're probably getting antsy downstairs, right?" You say, beginning to pile the letters back up into the box.
Standing up, you lean forward to press all of your passion and adoration onto your husband's lips. You can feel his intensity matching yours, his hands finding the side of your hips to keep you stable.
"They can wait," Seungcheol replies, his forehead leaning softly against your own. "They're not the ones who are pregnant after all."
You laugh, a sound filled with both joy and contentment, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding you. "I suppose you're right," you say, a smile spreading across your face. You take one last glance at the box of letters, a testament to the incredible journey you've both shared—one that began with innocent childhood exchanges and blossomed into a love story more profound than you could have ever imagined.
Hand in hand, you and Seungcheol make your way downstairs to greet your guests, the letters safely tucked away in their satin box. As you step into the room, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll always have those words, those memories, and most importantly, each other.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen fics#seventeen imagines#svt#svt fics#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#seventeen scoups#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#scoups#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagine#choi seungcheol fic#scoups fic#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#scoups imagines
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
SOMETHING IN THE WATER | 5 | SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: As a future marine biologist, you’ve scored big on your final internship: a summer in the tropics, researching the waters off the coast of a lush, sunny island. But what you thought would be all beach days and piña coladas turns out to be the revelation of a lifetime when you haul in a handsome merprince, and discover not everything in these waters is quite as it seems. TAGS/WARNINGS: mermaid au, interspecies relationships, mating rituals/courting behavior, (sort of) case fic, aged up characters, eventual smut, fem pronouns/afab reader LENGTH: 3.5k of est. 21k, 5th of 8 chapters
It was pollution. No doubt about it.
Under the lens of one of Kamui’s microscopes, the evidence was incontrovertible. The piece of white coral Shouto had brought you sported distinct traces of industrial processing chemicals that had almost certainly contributed to its bleaching, the concentration high enough that it had also probably choked the life out of the nearby environment.
It was high enough, in fact, that you were absolutely floored your team hadn’t come across even a hint of anything similar before. Based on the levels, you should have been finding at least smaller traces close to the area it came from, but nothing you’d found so far had even hinted at anything like this.
Which begged the question, just where in the hell had Shouto gotten it from?
When you legged it back down to the beach, however, both the merman and your sandwich were missing. The only evidence of his presence were the slices of mozzarella that had clearly been picked out of the sandwich, laid out cleanly on the wrapper you’d left behind.
You’d sighed and cleaned your trash up, then slogged back to your room for a shower and a few hours of sleep, stowing the coral away safely to show to your team in the morning.
When you awoke, however, you realized you would have no way of explaining to them where you’d obtained it, and no way to point them any closer to the source of the issue. You resolved to find Shouto as soon as possible to figure out what was going on, hopefully before the scheduled tour of Sunfish.
You rocketed through your morning tasks, and hurriedly volunteered to take over trap checking duty, disappearing out the door before Yu could so much as get out a reply.
You boated north to the reef where you’d first met Shouto, and jumped into the water before you’d even gotten your snorkeling gear on properly, certain the merman would somehow find you. You’d nearly finished checking the trap, kicking off the seafloor to rise back to the surface when a hand seized your elbow, guiding you back up.
Shouto’s handsome face was staring back at you when you yanked off your goggles, his distinctive hair slicked back with ocean water, the scar around his eye a deep pink in the sunlight. Sunlight glittered off the droplets on his skin, making him look even more ethereal than he usually did, and your breath momentarily seized in your chest.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, your face going hot when it came out weirdly breathy. Embarrassing.
A tiny little smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, and his fingers flexed on your elbow. “Hello,” he said in his deep, even tone.
Even that simple greeting somehow made you flush. You quickly marshaled yourself, trying to remember you had come here with an agenda, not to float here stupidly in the water, staring at him.
“Shouto—that coral you gave me yesterday? One of them has the signs of the pollution I was looking for!”
Shouto blinked, a droplet of water sliding down the side of his straight, handsome nose. Your eyes seemed weirdly glued to it as it reached the edge of his mouth.
“Then you liked it? It had…microbes?” he asked.
You nodded distractedly. “Sort of. Signs of microbial unhealth and chemically-induced bleaching. And I did like it. I think you might have actually solved the whole case for me!”
Shouto’s mouth pulled into a fuller, happier smile, just enough to bare the tops of those sharp teeth. You blinked, momentarily stunned, looking back up into his eyes to find him watching you intently.
“You liked it. My gift,” he said, something strangely smug in his tone. A little thrill raced through you, a frission of pleasure, at having put that expression on his face, that tone in his voice. Your ears went hot, and you pointedly did not think about why his pleasure made you so pleased as well.
“Yeah, I loved it,” you nodded, startled when Shouto’s fingers slid from your elbow to your wrist, lifting it up to his face.
But then in the next instant his expression shifted, his brows furrowing and the edges of his smile dipping. Instantly, you mourned the loss of it.
“But…you are not wearing it,” he said. “Either of them.”
Your eyelashes fluttered themselves in another disconcerted blink. Had…that been a requirement? Had he said that to you, yesterday?
You didn’t think you’d had much conversation between him handing over the bits of coral and you rushing off to the lab with them, but maybe that had been his expectation of what you would do with them. Maybe that was a common merperson thing, and you were too ignorant to think of it.
In fact, you hadn’t even taken the time to ask him why he’d given the coral bits to you, too focused on getting them under Kamui’s microscope like a huge disrespectful idiot.
You flushed, suddenly feeling incredibly rude. Was this a merperson custom you had just flagrantly ignored?
“Am I—? Is that something your people, um, do?” you asked. “Wear coral?”
Shouto nodded, those mismatched eyes still glued to your bare wrist. His fingers carefully shifted to encircle it, like he was replacing the expected bits of coral with his own hold on you. Your face burned and you paddled a little bit harder in the water, expelling nervous energy.
“I am so sorry, I didn’t know. Of course I will wear them, I just need to find some kind of string—” A sudden thought seized you. “Except—-well, Shouto, I need that white coral to prove pollution. I need to show it to my team, and be able to explain where I got it from. They might need to send it off as evidence.”
Shouto’s fingers tightened on you, though you noted he was still mindful of his claws. A hissing noise exploded out of him, and that scraping feeling burned at the back of your throat again, the bioelectric signal of his distaste clear enough.
“It is yours, not theirs,” he hissed, his handsome face suddenly all twisted up.
You could quite literally feel how distressed he was, and your heart throbbed with the realization that you were the cause.
You immediately backtracked, horrified. You shifted in the merman’s grip, twisting your hand to grab his wrist too, and put your other hand to his shoulder, holding him firmly.
“I’m sorry—Shouto, yes of course it’s mine. Of course I won’t give it to them,” you said, trying to angle your face to look into his eyes. “I didn’t realize—of course I will keep it with me.”
To your surprise, Shouto calmed immediately. The snarl faded from his mouth, his lips resuming their normal soft, sweet shape, and his other hand came to rest at your waist, pulling you a fraction closer to him.
“You promise,” he asked, though it was phrased more like a statement than a question.
You had to fight back a shocked laugh at how easily he’d been rerouted, and how unbelievably fleeting and childish that little tantrum had been. A prince of his people and here he was, getting fussy with you!
There was nothing for your exasperated snort, your helpless smile. “Yes, yes, I promise. But you have to help me collect another piece of white coral from where you got it originally. I promise it’s important.”
Shouto’s hands tightened on you, and you found yourself being dragged closer, so that he was holding you up in the water, only inches from the hard planes of his chest. His tail brushed against the inside of your thigh, the scales rasping lightly over the skin there. You went still, a little thrill racing up your spine at his sudden, more immediate proximity.
“You want me to take you there,” he said, his voice suddenly a little deeper.
You blinked. “I—yes? Is that…okay?”
Shouto’s eyes narrowed in on you, and you shifted nervously in his hold as his pupils went a little more slitted, a little more inhumanly focused. “It is an area of some significance to my people, though it is now difficult to get to. Your kind has begun to touch it.”
Your interest piqued. Humans had begun to touch it, alright. Judging by the chemical processing agents left behind on the piece of coral Shouto had given you, you could guess exactly which humans had touched it, too.
“Is it Sunfish?” you couldn’t help but ask, perking up in his hold.
Shouto inclined his head, a movement that brought his mouth almost dangerously close to yours. Your breath choked off in your lungs.
“Yes,” Shouto replied. “The…microbes you are interested in, then…? They are to do with Sunfish?”
You nodded excitedly, eagerly sucking in another breath. “Yes, yes! God, I’m so stupid, I should have told you earlier—anything to do with where Sunfish is operating is of interest to me. We’ve been testing the—um, the microbes to put it simply—around the area but if Sunfish has somewhere we haven’t been yet, that’s what I’m looking to know.”
Shouto looked thoughtful, and a claw trailed absently down the skin of your arm. You jumped, startled.
“Then I will take you,” he said, eyes cutting back to yours. “On one condition.”
You felt your eyebrows raise. Well that was unexpected of him. Who knew mermen knew how to bargain?
“Name your price,” you told him.
Shouto’s mouth quirked then, a hint of a sharp incisor showing, but the rest of his expression was strangely sincere. “I want dinner and a movie,” he said, a claw trailing sweetly, absently down the skin of your arm again. “Like you said humans do.”
You could feel your eyebrows escaping towards your hairline, your mouth going slack. “You want to watch a movie and have dinner,” you repeated, floored.
Shouto inclined his head, the damp strands of red and white mingling with the movement. “You said I would like a movie.”
Damn. You had said that, hadn’t you? But you couldn’t think how in the hell you were going to get Shouto to a movie. It wasn’t like there was a movie theater on this island, and besides that it wasn’t like you could just piggyback a real life merman into one.
You supposed if pressed, you could preload something on the shitty island wifi and then bring your laptop down to the beach and watch things that way. But what if someone spotted the light and came looking? Shouto could disappear quick enough, you had no doubt, but how to explain the laptop?
And then it occurred to you: the inn had a maintenance shed, just off the main office. A sudden image came to you of wheeling Shouto uphill in a wheelbarrow, getting him into the tub in your room, and setting up a few pillows for yourself, and some kind of dinner spread on the floor.
It was unconventional. But then—so was the idea of dinner and a movie with a merman at all.
You stuck out your hand, making a mental note to swing by the maintenance shed on your way back in tonight. “It’s a deal.”
Shouto stared at your fingers, seeming not to know what to do with the gesture, until you took one of his hands in your own, pumping it up and down. He held on for too long after that, those crimson-tipped fingers closing in over your own, warm and wet and strong.
“Then I will take you now, if you like,” Shouto said. “If you are ready.”
You nodded, paddling your feet a little uselessly in his hold, in eager anticipation. Confirmation of Sunfish’s activity, and the chance to see a place meaningful to Shouto and his people. It was a dream come true for any marine biologist.
Shouto let you go, following you slowly as you paddled back to the boat, swimming leisurely, looping circles around you. He helped boost you back into the boat, and then hauled himself up after you on the strength of his arms alone. The back of your neck went very warm, as you watched his muscle coil and flex as he pulled himself in, then looked at you imploringly.
“I will point the way and you will take us,” he said, slithering across the floor of the boat to slide in next to you behind the wheel. He peered at all the meters and dials interestedly, pressing a crimson claw to one.
You had to laugh at the ridiculousness of a merman sitting behind the wheel of a boat, and another wild idea occurred to you.
“Wanna learn how to drive?” you asked.
Shouto’s eyes slid over to you, turquoise and grey pinning you to your seat. “To operate the boat?”
You nodded. Another hot flush crept across your cheeks as a slow smile spread over Shouto’s mouth, those mismatched eyes glittering.
“Yes,” he said. “I should like that very much.”
You gestured him over to your seat, rising out of it as Shouto slid all that heavy muscle your way, the scales of his tail bright and fiery in the sun. He was warm and smelled like salt up close, and you tried not to take note of the way his bicep flexed as he moved to grip the wheel in taloned fingers.
You gave him a brief run through of all the meters and gauges, the fuel level meter, speedometer, the ammeter and engine hours. He seemed disinterested in all but the speed—a typical man, even if only his upper half looked it.
Then you showed him the throttle and how to turn the key to start and what degrees of movement of the wheel at a higher speed wouldn’t send both of you flying out of the boat. And then you sank down next to him, gripping the seat for safety as he started the boat, looking thrilled.
He guided the boat off the reef more carefully than you would have expected, but he grew bolder as you made it out into deeper waters, applying a ton of throttle instantly and sending you falling backwards in your seat. You zoomed across the gentle waves, horrifyingly fast, but unexpectedly smoothly for someone who had just learned. Shouto seemed intimately familiar with the island’s layout, navigating smoothly through some of the shallow channels that gave you an almost-regular heart attack, gliding easily across the waves and not seeming to catch a single one the wrong way.
A thrilled laugh bit out of you, getting lost in the wind as you sped across the sea. Shouto’s mouth pulled into a wider smile, looking pleased with himself, those sharp teeth white in the sun. You found yourself smiling, at the ludicrousness of being driven around by a merprince, and at how much Shouto looked like he was enjoying himself.
In almost no time Shouto was steering you into a shallow cove on the eastern side of the island a couple hundred meters away from where you’d laid out an observation station. As you slowed to a stop you helped anchor the boat, feeling your brows furrowing back down in confusion, the smile slipping off your face.
If there was any level of pollution in this cove then you would have known about it from the nearby observation station. You weren’t sure if Shouto had the right spot.
But as you turned back to him he pointed a claw towards the jut of the land, aiming with certainty. “There used to be a cave through which we could access the lagoon,” he said. “But it is blocked off to us now.”
You stared at him, befuddled. “Blocked off? By what?”
Shouto’s mouth thinned into an irritated line. “By some human invention—I do not know what it is.”
Your eyebrows raised. “Then—how did you get the coral out of this, uh, lagoon if you can’t access it?”
Shouto’s eyes dipped, following your words as your mouth shaped them, looking strangely intent. Your ears went hot.
“I climbed,” he said simply.
You whipped around to stare back at the strip of land rising into the jungle. You could just make out a clearing in the trees where you thought a lagoon might lay. And it was no small distance. Your jaw dropped, imagining Shouto having to drag himself over meters and meters of land to get there.
Your stomach fluttered, the white coral suddenly taking on a new significance if Shouto had gone to such trouble for it. It had to be more than just an area of interest to his people—-it more likely had to be extremely significant if this was the length merpeople had to go for this coral. No wonder he hadn’t liked the idea of you testing it, of you surrendering it and mailing it out and away, if he’d had to pull himself over land like that to get it.
And with this realization, a new, wildly disconcerting thought crept over you, an insane flight of fancy.
Was it possible that Shouto had given you… not just a friendly gift, but something even more meaningful than you had initially realized? If this was a site of cultural significance, and he’d suffered to get the coral for you—did it mean something a little bit more intimate than an exchange between new friends?
Your gaze darted back over to Shouto, sitting pertly in his seat. He struck such a handsome profile, all sleek muscle and delicately carved features, his face carefully-noted and almost supernaturally angelic. His coloring, too, was magnificent, the rose of his scar, the deep scarlet of his scales and his claws. And he was so sweet, and funny, and so very interesting. He was unlike anything—anyone—you had ever seen, and the thought of him fetching you a gift of special significance made an even more blistering wave of heat flare up in your belly.
You rose from your seat, determined to see this lagoon for yourself.
“Alright, you wait here,” you told Shouto, “I’m going to go check it out.”
He nodded, watching you closely as you went to the bag of supplies, fishing out a camera, the log book, your shoes, and a couple pieces of sampling equipment. You stuffed them all in a dry bag, rolling the top down tight and buckling securely.
“You will be careful,” Shouto intone in his deep voice, more an order than a question.
You smiled up at him, nodding your head. “Yes. I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes.”
He looked satisfied with that, and helped lower you down into the water to swim for land. He slithered off the edge beside you, sinking smoothly into the water like a dropped stone, and swam along underneath you, following you all the way until you clambered onto the sand. You hurriedly dug around in your bag for your shoes, stuffing your feet into them still sandy and damp as Shouto looked on.
Once properly outfitted, you followed the beach as it trailed off into scrub and bushes, and then into towering palms, making your way into the jungle. The sun shone brightly through the leaves, painting everything around you in shades of sunlit green, the air under the canopy thicker than on the beach. Your feet slid over the damp sand in your sneakers, a sensation you did not particularly enjoy, but you walked briskly, your curiosity leading you onwards.
In only a few minutes, the trees once again gave way to a small strip of sand, and you spilled out onto the beach of the lagoon.
It was instantly clear to you exactly what Shouto had meant. A large metallic wall dammed off one side of the lagoon, most probably blocking off the underwater channel Shouto had told you about. It had been bolted into the jutting coral and rock around it, sealing off any water flow. Around it, the ancient coral walls of the lagoon were bone white wherever the water lapped at them, disturbingly bleached of color, and you thought the scrub and the trees that had built up over the surface overtime looked a little bit unhealthy too.
Shouto had most definitely gotten his coral from here.
As you looked around your certainty grew, until you spotted the most damning evidence. Only a scant few meters away from where you had come out of the forest, there was a pipe dug into the earth, sitting about a meter above the water level of the lagoon. It was still shiny, clearly new, and it was also dribbling the occasional bit of liquid into the lagoon, as if someone were piping certain substances out and away from the rest of their facilities.
Your heart rate doubled at the sight, and you knew even as you unloaded your equipment to take samples that you had found exactly what you had been looking for.
There was no doubt in your mind that this pipe led back to Sunfish. And Shouto had indeed just solved this entire case.
#todoroki shouto x reader#todoroki x reader#shouto x reader#shoto x reader#todoroki x you#character: todoroki shouto
669 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't be a stranger! Pt. 5
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship, slight angst, mentioned past deaths
Upon entering the room Simon sees that Johnny and Gaz are already there talking to one another. Silently walking inside he takes a seat next to the others and places the box in front of them all.
“What’s this?” Gaz looks from Simon to the box.
“Cookies, I’ve been told I have to share.”
“These aren’t poisoned are they? Who are they from?”
"They're from his new lady friend! Ain’t that right Ghost?" Johnny interjects before he could answer.
It seems Johnny was still hunting for gossip about who it was that sent him a package, “Quiet down, MacTavish.”
Johnny and Gaz share a laugh between the two of them before both reach out for one of your treats. He had debated actually sharing these with them as he knows they'll be asking for more now. They'll start asking about you, and he won't be able to give them a clear answer; not yet anyway.
“Tell your lass that these are heavenly Lt.!” Johnny moans out as he takes a bite of one of your cookies.
The regret of sharing is already rearing its head it seems. He glares at the man and says, "MacTavish."
It was Gaz who noticed his discomfort right away from the other sergeant's comment. "Come on now, Soap don't antagonize him; Ghost will share what he wants when he's ready." He gives Simon a quick reassuring nod, "but really thank them for us for making these!"
"Will do."
It was at that moment when Price finally stepped inside the room as well, "Good evening lads, what's the reason for this?" He points at the box of treats in front of them with a questioning look on his face.
Johnny clearly goes to answer the question before Gaz hits him on the chest with a pointed look. He then looks towards him, clearly leaving Simon to answer with whatever he felt comfortable admitting about you. "A friend."
Price seemed shocked for a moment that he had even said that much, "Ah a friend; well you'll have to introduce sometime."
"Hmm."
Later he tells himself; later he would introduce you to the team. Once the two of you have spent more time together, maybe once the two of you were together.
Price claps his hands together once as he makes his way towards the front, “Now, let’s get started shall we!" The projector is turned on and the picture of a man appears on the screen. "This here is the man we're hunting for, and Laswell estimates this will be a 2 week op. So prepare yourselves for that lads."
-
It was the next day when Simon tried to call you. He hoped with each ring that you would pick up, he didn't want to leave you with a voice message before disappearing from you. Hearing your voice one last time before leaving would also ease his mind while away.
Just as he was about to give up and started to mentally prepare what he was going to say to you.
"Hey Simon! Everything ok, you're calling me a lot earlier than you normally would?" You sound worried, which is exactly the opposite of what he wants right now.
"Love, everything is alright. Just letting you know that I'm not going to be available for a few weeks."
It's quiet for a few seconds before you respond, "When are you getting sent out?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"You'll be safe won't you?"
"I'll do my best." Simon would do anything for you; all you needed to do was ask, "and I'll always have a piece of you to remind me to do that." He smiles down at the bracelet, and lightly fidgets with the heart charm.
You give a soft laugh over the phone, "You'll have to make me one next time you’re here. That way I'll have a piece of you too."
He promises to himself that he'll do that for you. As soon as this op is finished he's going to talk to Price about going on leave again. The man already has an idea of what is going on so hopefully he won't question him too much. Considering every other time he was practically dragged off base and forced to go on leave.
"I will, love. I'll also see how soon I can visit again after I get back to base."
"Just let me know when and I'll be there to walk you home from the car!"
The two of you continue to talk for a few more minutes before saying your goodbyes to one another. He can't wait to finish this op and get home to you.
-
The last two weeks have been absolute hell, but it was all hopefully going to come to an end in just a few hours. All there was to do now was wait; which led him to laying down right next to Johnny as they watched the warehouse.
“I spy with my little eye something…blue.” Johnny whispers next to him. This has been going on for 10 mins now and he was debating with himself if killing the sergeant would be worth it.
“Johnny.”
“Wrong, guess again.”
Killing him is becoming more and more worth it, “Hush.”
“You’re no fun Lt.” Johnny pouted before changing into a gin, “How’s Beads doing by the way?”
“Beads?”
Johnny points to where the bracelet usually sits on his wrist, “Beads, your lass!”
Simon had almost forgotten that he had seen the bracelet while he was moving it to a more secured pocket on his vest. “If I tell you, will you stop being so annoying about this?”
“Cross my heart!”
"Beads," He doesn't necessarily like the nickname, but he doesn't feel comfortable saying your name right now, "Is doing good. She loved the rock you tripped over."
"You fucking sent her that rock?"
"It's displayed in her living room and everything."
When Johnny doesn't immediately respond he looks towards him only to see a soft look gracing his face. "You really like this lass don't you?"
That is what scared him, because he did care about you. He tried to fight it at first; the two of you were never meant to interact after he helped you in your flat. Then the daily morning walks to your work started right after, and he couldn't avoid you after that. “I might.”
"That's a love confession coming from you."
"Maybe it is." He whispers to himself, but based on Johnny's shocked face he probably heard as well.
"Ghost-"
“Target spotted; get ready to move in.” Price's voice comes over the comms interrupting whatever Johnny was going to say.
The topic is immediately dropped after that, and two of them focus on the task once more.
-
When the plane finally landed back on base Simon made a beeline to his locker to get his phone. Admittedly the talk with Johnny did help him sort out some of his feelings that he had for you. Simon was going to try and get a hard read on you when he goes on leave again; try and see if you were also wanting to take the friendship to the next level.
Turning on his phone he sees that he has a few texts and a voicemail message from you. Reading the text first; there are simple updates about your work and random thoughts you’ve had throughout the day. It was the voicemail that made Simon’s blood go cold.
“Hey Simon,” you sound nervous, that's the first thing he picks up on, “Can you give me a call when you get this. A couple of Russian guys came by today asking about you. I don’t want to worry you, but they were asking a lot of strange questions. Stuff about where you were, and when you would be getting back. It’s probably nothing, but I just felt like I should tell you. I’ll talk to you later…Bye.”
Panic was the only thing going through Simon right now. Quickly checking he sees that the voice message was from a few days ago.
“Fuck!” For all he knew you could be dead right now. He couldn’t go home just to see another person he cared about dead on the floor again.
He calls you; each unanswered ring is just another nail in your coffin.
“Hello.”
Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown
@arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind
#simon riley x reader#fem reader#ghost x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#task force 141#call of duty#female reader#john soap mactavish#john price#kyle gaz garrick
268 notes
·
View notes
Text
20/11 tattoo @rosekillermicrofic — word count: 728 — first time participating in any microfic thing and i wrote this on the bus to my tattoo appointment !! aimed for 500 words, got a bit carried away but hopefully it’s not horrible — warnings: implied nsfw
— — —
Evan had one rule for himself: don’t sleep with clients. It was a pretty straightforward rule, easy to follow, but this particular client was making it extremely difficult.
As soon as he walked through the door Evan knew he’d be trouble. Dark brown eyes with even darker hair, covered in tattoos and piercings (possibly more than Evan himself), and sporting a wicked grin that just screamed fuckboy.
Yeah he was Evan’s type.
He’d come in for a flash tattoo, choosing the small skull option they had and requesting it on his upper arm. Nothing difficult.
What was difficult was trying to keep a straight face while the man’s—Barty, he’d learned—warm skin was right there in front of Evan’s face and under his hands. Setting up was easy, Evan going through the movements with a precision that only comes from familiarity. He could feel Barty’s eyes on him as he worked, causing Evan’s heart to speed up. Get it together, Rosier.
“How long have you been doing this?” Barty asked curiously.
“Almost 4 years.” Evan replied, turning back to face Barty. He moved closer, flicking on the overhead light. “Lean back.”
Barty complied, leaning back against the chair and holding out his arm. Evan took a second to admire the array of tattoos covering his arm before cleaning the area for the new one.
“Here?” He asked and Barty nodded in response. After the stencil was done, Evan got to work on the tattoo. He worked quietly, only mildly distracted by the feeling of Barty’s skin under his and eyes watching him.
It didn’t take long—the tattoo was only small—and soon he was placing the second skin over top of the finished piece.
“Looks great!” Barty said, turning his arm to get a better view of the skull now resting on his upper arm.
“Fits in perfectly with the rest.” Evan commented. “Now I’m sure you know the healing process but I’ll go over it with you anyways.”
Barty nodded along with Evan’s words as he described how to properly care for and heal the new tattoo. His eyes lingered on Evan’s neck for what was certainly too long to be just admiring the tattoos visible above his collar. And he licked his lips as his eyes roamed over Evan’s piercings.
Evan suddenly felt too hot in the small room, the lights combined with Barty’s gaze making his heart race. He cleared his throat as Barty’s eyes flicked back to meet his own, watching as the dark haired man smirked slightly.
“Well as long as you feel alright, you’re free to go.” Evan said, turning away from him to take of his gloves and distract himself from the way his heart fluttered at the smirk.
“Actually I think I feel a bit dizzy.” Barty said. “Mind if I stay a little longer?”
“Oh, yeah that’s fine.” He grabbed a granola bar and tossed it to the other man. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
They fell into silence as Barty chewed on the granola bar and Evan started cleaning up. A small part of him wished this would never end, there was something comfortable about simply being near Barty.
“Your tattoos are pretty cool.” Barty began, tossing the empty wrapper in the garbage bin. “What’s the one near your neck?”
“This one?” Evan asked, gesturing to the flower partly visible above his shirt collar. It was the one Barty had been staring at before.
“Yeah. Looks like a rose.”
“It is.” Evan confirmed.
“Can I see the rest of it?”
Evan hesitated.
“I’m not asking you to take your shirt off.” Barty said in a light teasing tone. “Wouldn’t complain if you did though.”
“Oh?” Suddenly he was feeling a bit more bold, despite how unprofessional it was to flirt with a client.
Barty’s grin widened. “Considering it?”
“Maybe.”
Barty leaned closer. “You got any other clients today?”
“No.” He really hoped Barty couldn’t hear his heart beating.
A hand came up to brush across the rose tattoo, pushing his shirt collar to the side a bit before moving away to brush through his hair.
“This is a horrible idea.” Evan said, shivering when Barry’s fingers lightly brushed his ear.
“Are you saying you don’t want to?”
“I should.” Barty’s hand stilled in his hair. “I’m not though.”
Their lips crashed together before he could blink. Yeah, Evan was definitely breaking his rule.
#marauders era#rosekiller#rosekiller microfic#evan rosier#barty crouch jr#evan rosier x barty crouch jr#marauders#rosekiller fanfiction#rosekiller fic#em’s fics
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
the camp letter
a/n: the requested note (which turned into more of a letter — I’m a writer, what did you expect?) written by Mrs. Kelce, from “new heights, new news, new baby.” enjoy!
___
“NHL tournament kicks off in my room in ten, big fella!” Isiah Pacheco called through the door after a few raps of his knuckle.
Travis smiled to himself, pushing his now-empty unpacked duffle into the dorm closet and clucking his tongue.
“You know I ain’t missin’ that, son!” Travis assured. “Be right there.”
As Isiah’s footsteps retreated down the hall, Travis grabbed the last piece of luggage on his bed, his toiletry kit, and walked it into the bathroom to hang up. Upon opening the flap, a piece of white notebook paper fell to the counter, folded so only the top of the page was visible.
Open when you get to camp! it read in your unmistakable penmanship. With an enamored grin, Travis quickly lifted and unfolded the page.
87,
the salutation read.
At that simple greeting, his throat tightened with emotion.
Oh boy… he was in for it.
He wandered to take a seat on the bed as he continued.
With another Super Bowl celebration summer coming to a close, another season is now on the horizon and it just might be the most special one yet.
I remember the first time you invited me to Chiefs camp when we had just started dating, watching all your teammates’ kids run to them after practice, watching them chase after footballs, watching their dads throw them up in the air and tote them around so proudly, and I remember thinking, “I hope that’s gonna be Travis someday with our own kids.” Sure, that happened just a little sooner than we planned, but with each day that passes, I only grow more excited to share this with you, and to make those football-centric memories with our little one, and hopefully more little ones to come.
I can’t wait to hold our baby in the stands and explain to them what you do for a living, Trav. I can’t wait to see how excited they get waiting for you on the sideline for a pregame kiss, then watching you ball out. I can’t wait to watch them meet you in the tunnel or the suite after a game, win or lose, and love on you like I do. I can’t wait to see them run around Arrowhead with Sterling and Bronze, and, as much as possible, take them to games with Wy, Ell, and Benny, watching them spend time together and clap for their daddies.
When I close my eyes, I can so vividly see another Super Bowl win, finding you in the midst of another red and gold confetti snowglobe, but this time, with our kid in my arms. I can envision you on the podium with Coach Reid and Patrick, a Lombardi in one arm and a baby in the other. And as much as I already miss you, despite you still being just a couple of rooms away as I write this, we both know that camp is the first step toward making that happen.
We are so lucky to get to do this at all, Trav, but I feel impossibly lucky to get to do this with you. Thank you for being the man that you are – I can’t tell you how much I admire your drive, your passion, your work ethic. You are the best teammate, captain, leader, friend, husband, brother, son, and daddy-to-be that I’ve ever known, and I know you’ll instill your best qualities in our little one.
I love you so fucking bad, Travis Michael. Have fun, be safe… go be great. See you soon.
XO
Silent tears were dripping down Travis’s cheeks and nose as he finished the letter, a fond smile permanent on his lips. God, he was the lucky one, to get to be able to play this silly game he loved so much with your full support backing him. And the thought of you and your baby cheering him on, together, in just a few more months… man, that made him actually giddy, despite the tears he was still trying to get under control.
A moment later, the only person who would ever push open the door to his room unannounced did just that — his quarterback and best friend entered with a casual “you comin’ to play Chel, you hockey freak?” before his eyes actually landed on Travis. Patrick was fearful for just a moment, seeing his friend so emotional, then the tight end met his gaze and held up the piece of notebook paper covered in your neat writing.
Travis cleared his throat and announced, “Letter from home. Got me.”
Patrick smiled, taking a few steps toward him to squeeze his shoulder.
“I gotchu,” he said understandingly. “All good, though?”
Travis nodded emphatically, beaming even as he wiped his watery eyes with the flesh of his thumb.
“So good,” he assured the fellow dad.
Patrick nodded, too, and pawed Travis’s arm affectionately.
“Glad to hear it. Take all the time you need, man,” he directed. “I’ll go take the first round with the hooligans.”
Travis giggled and reached to dap up Patrick, the quarterback giving him a warm hug.
“Thanks, brother,” he said softly.
As Patrick left the room, Travis gave the letter one last brief read, then pulled out his phone, screen lighting up to display his lock background — you from the back in an 87 jacket after this most recent Super Bowl, being hoisted in his arms the very moment you found each other on the field. Smirking proudly at the memory, he unlocked the phone and opened his text thread with you.
Just read your letter, you sneaky lil thing, he tapped. My god, you know how to make a 6’5” NFLer weep like a baby! Thank you for writing it, sweetness. I love you so much. Less than four days now until I hug you and baby Kelce again 😍🤰🏻 Tell Mama I said hi and I love her! Call you later 😘
With that, he hit send, took a deep breath, tucked the letter into an empty drawer for safekeeping, and headed toward Isiah’s room — which was already echoing with his teammates’ raucous cheers and jeers — all while wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve a life so damn sweet.
435 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi there!!! could i get general gabriel x gn!reader headcanons?
Of course you can! Here's some Gabriel x GN!Reader Headcanons all prettied up for you and finished with a homebaked gif! I really didn't expect to get a request this soon. Thank you so much for being the first one ♡♡♡
Gabriel x GN!Reader Headcanons (Gabriel x Reader) [Requested]
🐑 ♡ Thank you so much to my dearest Birch for beta'ing these headcanons ♡ 🐑
A general selection of headcanons for Gabriel x a GN!Reader.
Teen and Up Audiences, No Warnings, F/M, M/M, Other/M, Tag(s): Headcanon, Short, Flirting, Fluff, Pet Names, Blood, GN!Reader, Ambiguous Gender Reader, POV Second Person
Find it on ao3 ♡ WC: 654
Thank you @kiitiikiiwii for requesting this! It's my first time doing HCs, so I did my homework to see what sort of thing I should be doing. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations. Likewise, I decided to mark it as GN! and Ambig! due to the lack of pronouns. Insert away ♡
♡ Flirting is not something Gabriel is accustomed to. So much so, he won’t ever realise this is what he’s doing. When he’s returning your signals, it’s because he is doing it out of mutual respect and appreciation for such fine company. That’s exactly why he seeks you out you upon the thought mere thought of your smile. Of course he lets his hand rest against the side of your arm to get your attention. Why wouldn’t he? He’s matching your kind gestures with the same enthusiasm. He’s complimenting your skills as you compliment him. He is flirting with you in blissful ignorance of what he’s actually doing. To him, the bond you share is irreplaceable.
♡ He finds it exhilarating how you focus his senses like he was in battle. With Gabriel as oblivious to flirting as he is, he is no better at understanding his own feelings when it comes to you. He’s aware of every little thing you do around him, and he will often comment on things out of curiosity or interest. Touch - no matter how fleeting - leaves him restless. Your voice, however soothing it may be to him, does nothing to quell the internal chaos warring in his head. Be it through word of mouth, reflection, or your own confession, he finally realises what it all means.
♡ When Gabriel figures out how he feels, all that smooth flirting deteriorates to confusion. Suddenly he has to think about his actions in a way he is unfamiliar with. The confident angel you know struggles to be anything more than a new creation unleashed upon Heaven. Fragile eagerness would guide his hand towards you, and his hesitancy would compel him to stop. He would ask for your permission if he ever wanted to be close to you. Your time is a resource he seems infinitely aware he is spending, and yet you reassure him you want to spend it with him. Gabriel wouldn't avoid you. Not when you felt the same way. Yet you would see a vulnerable side to him he otherwise hid behind titles and strength.
♡ Splendor would be his choice of endearment for you. Like the sword that adorns his side, so do you. It seems a fitting title for the object of his affections. When his duties take him far from you, he is able to keep a piece of you with him more tangible than a memory. And when the blood of fallen Sinners coats the blade, he feels a sense of pride about his purpose. He is following God’s will, but he is also ensuring there would never be another rebellion to threaten the life you lead. When the colour of the sword is drowned out entirely by crimson, he would consider the intensity of his feelings - feelings that bled between ideas of love and war. He adores you with the same ferocity he wields his blade. It is a high that leaves his wings unsettled against his back. There was no such thing as mercy for him; only the point of a blade embedded deep in his soul.
♡ When he returns to your side, he finds himself unable to stay away from you. Nor does he stay still. He would chase the same high he felt when you were apart, and you would be swept off of your feet. You’re sparring together regardless of your experience. You’re dancing together with full vigour. You’re listening to him as he tries to teach you all he knows when you’re busy. The few peaceful moments that sneak into your routine are filled with silence, however. While he savours your presence, he continues to think about what he’s feeling. He doesn’t know if it will ever go away. It’s a thought that makes him uneasy. So he’ll keep chasing after you - his Splendor - with the same intensity of the sun even after the fire is gone. He cannot comprehend anything else.
#Ritual_Of_Cirice fanfiction#Ritual_Of_Cirice requests#ultrakill#gabriel (ultrakill)#gabriel (ultrakill) x reader#gabriel (ultrakill) x reader headcanons#tw blood#all the best ♡
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
if u write only for twst can yew do Floyd leech and and and uhhh errmmmm uhhhh guy reader mc idc whose scenemo and floyd discovers they have shared tastes and mc/reader gives him make over 😣
IF UR POTENTIALLY OPEN TO OTHER FANDOMZ.. STARTZ TREMBLING AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH.. TARTAGLIA...
okay thanks ily pooks
thx for requesting!!! I will be actually joining new fandoms real soon and hopefully writing for them, so this will probs be my last time writing for twst atm :3 n e wayz, I hope you enjoy this!
A fluff fic
The reader is MC and goes by he/him pronouns.
This can be read in both a platonic and romantic way!
Floyd may be ooc due to the fact I haven't played twst in MONTHS + This will include hcs
You were making some kandi bracelets again since you didn't really have much else to do and also wanted to add more to your collection (you already had like 37 but shhh) until you heard your door creak, causing you to look up to a tall, smiley, blue haired figure, which was Floyd of course!
"Heya shrimpy, watcha making there~" He asked with curiosity in his eyes.
"Nothin much, just making bracelets" You responded as you tied the string together to finish this piece off.
"Ohhhh...I think I tried that before but got bored cuz the beads kept falling off" Floyd sighed, "But I like to make shirts!" Floyd excitedly claimed. "Really?? Me too!" You smiled. "We should bleach some shirts together sometime!" You requested. Floyd put a finger on his chin, pondering. "Mehhh...maybe...OR we could right now" He instead offered, to which you had to accept, hell maybe you could even give him a full makeover!
You got the black shirts, cardboard, and bleach out and began working. The two of you finished after about 15-20 minutes and adored the results. Floyd went with a skeleton type pattern and ended up cutting the sleeves off his shirt, and you'd gone with a spine with wings, but in all honesty you just went with whatever came to your head as you'd done so.
You two complemented each other's shirts and such and then you offered the idea you came up with earlier. "Floyd, what if I gave you some clothes to style with that shirt? I have some stuff that I got in a size too big so I haven't worn it yet, and I could get you some shoes" You suggested. "Shrimpy, giving me a makeover?hmmmm...sureee, but only if I can give you one too!" He said, and you nodded your head.
---
You handed Floyd your eyeliner, eyeshadow, brushes, etc and let him create away, and you discovered he was actually good at doing makeup and such.
Your makeup:
(you may imagine wtv you'd prefer tho!)
Floyd's outfit:( I couldn't find a good png and was DEF not drawing this cuz I can't 💔) FLIP I FORGOT THE KANDI. But anyways his stuff would say stuff like eel rave and sea slugs etc
Floyd entered his dorm happy with the new outfit he now has. "Ah, hello Floyd. Where has this outfit come from?" Jade came out of nowhere, asking. "I bleached this shirt, but Shrimpy gave me this other stuff! Isn't he soooo cool!" Floyd giggled. "I do rather like it...maybe I ought to see what he could do for me too..." Jade pondered
#☁️cloudy writes#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst fluff#twst floyd#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech#Super sorry this is short! I didn't have much ideas and it's currently 11:34pm as I finish this🤫#male mc#Uhmmm there's probs gonna be typos I'm blind rn
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
you belong with me — teaser
a/n : i wanted to have this finished by today but 😢 here's a lil snippet instead! for context, this specific part takes place in july of 2019, before the start of p's senior year of high school, and reader is her best friend and teammate. happy valentine's! 💕
paige doesn’t get what you see in him.
for one, he’s really not that cute, contrary to what all your other friends believe— there are a million five–foot–ten boys with curly blond hair and green eyes in the world, and you’re pretty enough to have any one of them that you want. for two, he’s so boring. he’s always got you holed up at his ridiculously large house doing something lame, when you could be with her, actually having fun. and lastly, he’s not even that good of a boyfriend. sure, he takes you out on dates and drives you around in his stupid car and surprises you with flowers and gifts, but those are all things she’s done for you and she’s only your friend. it’s the bare minimum, and you deserve a lot better than that; you deserve the world.
she thinks she might actually be sick, watching him tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear and smile at you, leaning in for a kiss. his face is actually so gross, she gags.
“stop, leave her be,” azzi’s voice comes with a little laugh as her hand closes around paige’s forearm, tugging playfully, but the blonde still struggles to tear her eyes away. “paige.”
“they’re disgusting,” paige gripes as she finally looks away, taking a sip of her dr. pepper, not even bothering with her burger and fries anymore. witnessing that interaction ruined her appetite.
“they’re in love,” azzi teases, dragging out the ‘o’, and paige grumbles around her straw, eyes rolling dismissively.
you aren’t in love with him. yeah, it’s been three months since you officially started dating, but paige actually knows you; you’ve liked plenty of guys since she met you in seventh grade, and none of them have ever really meant anything. soon enough, you’ll get bored of him, just like all the others, and it’ll go back to just being you and her again, like it should be.
hopefully, that’s before the season starts in november. she doesn’t want to have to see you with him at homecoming, or even worse, at one of your games— she’d really be revolted, then.
“no, i agree with p,” kayhla chimes in on the conversation. “get a room!” she shouts, hands cupped around her mouth to accentuate the sound, earning the attention of you, him, and everyone else in the wendy’s.
your eyes get all wide and your cheeks tinge red, and the table erupts into giggles at your embarrassed reaction. you step away from him, finally, and turn back to the counter, smiling politely at the cashier as she slides a tray of chocolate and vanilla frosties toward you, and another toward him. paige can’t help but feel a bit smug when you return to the table and reclaim your seat next to her— it’s an end–seat, so he has to sit across from you both. she casually stretches her arm out over your shoulders, and shoves a spoonful of chocolate frosty into her mouth with her free hand.
“you guys are mean,” you say, reaching out for one of her abandoned fries. you don’t do anything about her arm.
“don’t be a freak, then,” paige replies, and you jab her in the side with your elbow, which only makes her laugh harder.
“oh, you have no right to be calling anyone a freak,” you retort playfully. “don’t make me bring up last summer—”
“woah, nah, okay! okay, you win!”
paige throws up her hands in surrender, and everyone at the table laughs again— everyone, except for him. you, on the other hand, laugh especially hard. she can’t lie, it’s vindicating knowing there are parts of you that he hasn’t yet breached, that she can make you laugh this hard and he has no clue why.
that she actually knows you. unlike him, paige isn’t temporary. you’ll get bored of him, and things will go back to being the way they’re supposed to be.
just you and her.
#fic : you belong with me.#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#wlw#uconn wbb#lowkey girls like girls by hayley kiyoko coded too now that i think abt it#alsoooo the ended of this passage is subject to change cause i don’t like itttt
131 notes
·
View notes
Text
So.
This might be the longest one I've posted (it’s a little longer than my Doubles chapter), and I cut a couple things for spoiler reasons, so DAMN!
This chapter might jump around a bit because of the cuts, but I hope it's still enjoyable! Dove just has the time of her life in this one, a real fluff piece 😃👍
CW: blood
Dove Masterlist:
Chrysanthemum
The coast is clear, you’re good to go.
Not a single sound echoes down the long halls of the palace, all occupants fast asleep beneath the pale moon, save for the guards. You close the door to your room, careful not to be too loud as you sneak through the palace. Looking down at the note in your hands, you follow its directions. It lists various turns to take, and you are mindful of the presence of any guards patrolling the area as you take them.
After coming back to your room for the night, you found a note from the prince on the foot of your bed. He likely wants to reconvene so you can tell him what you’ve learned thus far. Hopefully your investigations of the day will be helpful.
You peer around a corner, waiting for a pair of guards to leave the area before you can continue on your route. As you wait, something taps you over your shoulder. You quickly spin around, a familiar stone monkey standing behind you with a lazy smile.
“Woah.” He gives you a bit of a surprised look when you turn, his gaze studying you for a moment. You give him an expectant look, and it’s enough to help him find his words again. “Uh, good news, Dove. Master’s papers are now recertified!”
“Shh!” You whisper, holding your breath as you glance back to see whether or not he was heard.
Once you see that they are no longer in sight, you let out a sigh of relief. Wukong frowns, but lowers his voice nonetheless. “What does it matter if they hear us? You don’t have to be here anymore. We can fly back to the post house and meet up with the others, we can be out of this kingdom before sunrise.”
“Not yet.” You glance away, double checking the hall is clear on both ends
“What?” He laughs a little, confused. “Not yet? With how you looked at me the other day in the post house, I thought you would want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
You focus your gaze back on the monkey demon once you know you’re both in the clear. “I just need another day or two.”
Wukong scoffs a bit, crossing his arms. “You just might be married by then, these royal types put wedding arrangements together rather quickly.”
“Just a few more days, then I can leave.” You explain before turning away to continue your route.
“Why?” The sage asks from behind, sounding genuinely puzzled as you look back down for where to go next. You don’t get the chance to finish before a tail snatches the paper from your hands. “Are these… directions?”
You look back to see his almost perplexed expression. “What is this?”
“Jian Yu is expecting me, Wukong, this is important.” You do your best to explain, patience running thin rather quickly as you snatch the note back. The day had been a long one, and you don’t feel in the mood for your companion’s pushy curiosity.
You go to move before Wukong jumps in front of you, brows pulled into a deep frown. “You’re meeting the prince? At this time of night?!”
“Stop, it isn’t like that.” You roll your eyes, offended he could even come to that conclusion.
“Meeting your soon-to-be-husband in the dead of night?!” He continues to voice his unneeded concerns, shaking his head before taking your hand to lead you away. “If I knew you would actually fall for this guy, I would have opted to decline the proposal and fight our way out of this place!”
He can barely take you three steps before you pull your hand away. “Would you quit it?!” Wukong looks back at you with a huff as you speak, clearly as irritated as you feel. “He wants to know what I’ve found. I can’t leave yet because I might have found the one trying to kill him.”
Monkey scoffs with a grin, his tail coiling around his leg. “Why is he asking you to do it? Doesn’t he have guards for things like that?”
“He’s paranoid. If you’re mortal and your life is at a constant risk, you’re paranoid.” You rest your hands on your hips, giving your friend a glare. “He says he can’t trust anyone in the palace, and I don’t blame him.”
“So he gets his betrothed to do his work for him?” Wukong jeers, and you roll your eyes.
He doesn’t get it, you don’t expect him to. “I could care less about your feelings on this matter, I am seeing this through.”
“But why do you need so long?” He prods, his eyes narrow with agitation. “You said you know who his would-be killer is, just tell him and we can go.”
You shake your head. “It’s only a suspicion. Besides, even if I am right, I would like to stay and see to it that they are properly dealt with. That way, I will know Jian Yu is safe.”
You’re met with silence, Wukong’s eyes burning into yours. A song of crickets is all that fills the silence for a moment, Monkey tilts his head, frown deepening. You glare back, refusing to give him even an inch.
Then his eyes soften. He studies your face for a moment, brow still worried. “Are you okay?”
The question takes you off guard. “Fine, but I’m keeping the prince waiting. So if you will excuse me–”
“You don’t look fine.” He says, and you pause. “Look, I get it. You want to help this guy. That princess, demons in disguise, your first instinct is always to help them. And, you know, that’s a good thing. More people should be like that– I know Tripitaka wants my brothers and I to be more like that… but this is different.
“Just two days ago, you wanted nothing to do with this prince. Now, it’s like you are obsessed!” He reaches for your hand again, more gentle this time. “You look as though you’ve had no time to sleep, determined to have this task seen through.”
“Of course I am determined! I won’t just let him die.” You pull your hand back, stepping away from the sage.
Wukong clenches the hand he reached out. “I’m not saying you do that.”
“It’s what I would be doing if I leave now.” You glower. “I can save him, so that is what I will do.” Without another word, you turn on your feet and leave him where he stands. He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before you’re gone.
What does he know, anyway? Obsessed? Is that what he calls it? Yes, you want nothing more in this moment than to help Jian Yu, but anyone in your position would feel the same. How else are you meant to feel when a person asks you to save their life? How can a person turn their back at a request like that? What does Wukong know, anyway?
It doesn’t matter, what does is getting your information about your suspects to the prince. You follow the rest of the note’s directions carefully, avoiding the guards until you reach a door. As per the instructions, you knock on the frame of the door, your eyes flicking to and fro to ensure you’re neither seen nor heard.
The door slowly opens, the prince peering out to see you. “I was beginning to worry you would not come.” He smiles, looking down the hall himself to see if you were alone.
“I apologise for keeping you waiting.” You look down, tucking the paper into your sleeve now that you no longer need it. “I believe I have information on who may be the one who wants you dead.”
“Not out here, come inside. I want to make sure we are alone.” He opens the door fully, allowing you to enter what appears to be his room. With a quiet thanks, you let yourself into the space. You try your best not to overreact over how large his room is, reminding yourself there is a reason for your visit. You have no time to gawk over space in a room.
With a quick breath through your nose, you look back at the prince. “I believe there are two suspects. The first is the new palace gardener, Chun Hua–”
“It can’t be her.” He quickly dismisses the idea, moving past you to sit back on his bed.
You frown at his quick response. “You haven’t even heard my reasoning yet.”
“She has not been here long enough to be the one we’re looking for.” His reasoning makes you frown.
She was employed for weeks before the assassination attempt. “What do you mean by that?”
Jian Yu sighs, looking down to his hands that rest on his lap. “I’m sure you heard me chastising that man for giving me those flowers.” You hum a bit in acknowledgement. That was one way he could put it.
“My mother…” He pauses, eyes on his now clenched fist. “…she passed away early in the spring.”
Your frown lessens at that, his own hardening. “I am sorry to hear that.”
“She was killed in her sleep, that same flower was left at the foot of her bed by whoever took her life.” He continues, understanding finally dawning over you. When he told you this was about more than his own life…
It was really for her. “That’s why you wanted me to find whoever sent you the flowers?” You ask, the prince nodding in response.
“The arrows shot at me were laced with aconitum, the same toxin from that plant. I am certain that our killer is the same one who took my mother’s life. Chun Hua has only been employed here for the summer.” He explains, dismissing her as a suspect.
You hum a bit in thought. “Perhaps my second suspect is the one you’re looking for, then.” You begin telling him of your findings, what the gardener had informed you of and who the true culprit may be.
After discussing and coming to a consensus on who the attacker really is, you turn to leave. “Let’s reconvene in the morning. I have been neglecting my sleep and if we plan to bring this person to justice, I should be at my best.”
Before you can reach the door, the prince catches your hand. You look back at him to find the man smiling. “Thank you, for everything.” His eyes, though melancholy, are hopeful.
“I feel like for the first time in a long while, I don’t have to be afraid.” The gesture takes you aback, the optimism on his face chipping at your heart like an axe to a tree.
All you can manage is to give him a curt nod before leaving the room in a rush to get back to yours. When he looks at you like that– you can’t even bear to think about it. Why does he have to look so much like him? Why can’t you stop seeing his face?
By the time you make it back to your room, you can barely keep it together. Once inside, you lean against the door. You slowly slide down, and despite the hours you’ve spent following trails and hiking up mountains, the short run back to your room has left your knees weak and each breath laboured. You’ve seen him enough in your dreams, why must you now see him in the waking world too?!
Why must he look like him? You can barely look him in the eyes for ten seconds before feeling your stomach twisting into knots. He tells you he feels safer now and all that reassurance does is make you wish you could crumble into nothing but ashes. Tears start to prick at your burning eyes, an unfortunate side effect to your swirls of emotion.
You didn’t want any of these feelings, but what else can you do? You can’t leave as long as he’s in danger, your job is not yet finished here. With any luck, the culprit will be apprehended and you can be on your way. You won’t have to torture yourself with this any longer. He can be saved, you can save him.
A rush of air passes through your lips, in and out as you take in a deep breath. If only that gift of yours could work on yourself, maybe you wouldn’t be feeling this way.
After taking a moment to regulate your breathing, you rise back to your feet, away from the door. Your feet move without you telling them to, almost in a daze as you stop at one side of your bed. Wukong may be right, you do feel exhausted, just a little drained. Taking a seat, you lean back on the bed, arms propping you up. As you lean back, your fingers brush against something on top of the covers, and you glance to your side with a frown. Strange, you didn’t leave anything on the bed.
The violet petals on your sheets make your frown deepen, a monkshood flower sitting atop your bed.
You don’t even have the chance to move before a hand wraps around your mouth, pulling you back while an arm wraps around your torso. Your hands fly to the hand covering your mouth, the attacker pulling you across to the other end of the bed as you kick to find any sort of grip, your shouts muffled.
The attacker stands back, pulling you off the bed and lifting you up so that you can’t reach the ground. “You never should have gotten involved, woman.” A low voice snarls before their hand removes itself from your face.
Your sharp intake of breath is cut short as you see your assailant hold up your own dagger, your bow and quiver still disposed of by the folding screen on the other side of the room. How long has this person been here? Did they wait for you?
The attacker swings down just as you quickly dig your elbow into their side. They recoil, grip loosening before you throw your head back to collide with their own. You’re able to free yourself as they reel back from the hit, cradling their head from the pain.
Facing your attacker now, you find it to be the same cloaked intruder from the day you arrived. The attacker recovers quickly, holding up your dagger and lunging for you again. You just dodge out of the way, blocking their wrist with your arm before parrying and pushing them away. You take the opportunity to kick them in their chest, pushing them to the ground and giving you a chance to run for your bow.
You turn to run, but trip as the attacker pulls at your hanfu. You fall, letting out a shout of pain as your chin collides with the hard wooden floor. There’s hardly a moment to blink before you’re grabbed by your shoulder and flipped onto your back.
The attacker hovers overtop of you, they almost plunge the dagger into your chest before you grab their wrist with both your hands. Your arms shake as they fight to push the blade down and you attempt to guide it away from your body. The attacker grunts, forcing your dagger closer and closer.
They start to overpower you, your strength slipping as the blade digs into the fabric of your clothes. The weapon sinks into your shoulder, the cool metal shooting a searing hot pain through your body. A cry of pain tears through your throat, the blade twisting into your flesh.
You let go of their wrist, screaming as they drive the dagger in further, before pulling them close enough to connect your fist to their jaw. The attacker stumbles back, falling to their side and taking the dagger with them. You’re able to push past the pain enough to sit up and shuffle back, enough to reach your bow.
Now armed, you reach for an arrow from your quiver before your assailant rises to their feet. You draw back the string, but before you can fire, a flash of ochre rushes past from your window. In the blink of an eye, Sun Wukong has the attacker pinned to the wall, his arm against their throat.
He’s scarily silent as he takes his staff from his ear to extend it, and you quickly stand. “Wukong, wait! You can’t kill them!” Whoever this is, they are no demon, and Tripitaka will never stand for his disciple to kill a human, no matter how guilty they may be.
The Monkey King snaps his attention to you, his hardened gaze softening when he does. Dropping his staff, he only turns back to your attacker to knock them out with a hit to the head. The assailant goes out cold, and you feel yourself begin to sway on your feet. Sun Wukong catches you before you can fall back into your folding screen, his eyes quickly finding the growing splotch of red over your shoulder.
You do your best to apply pressure over the wound with your hand, Wukong doing the same as he looks down in worry. “Dove, are you alright? Did they hurt you anywhere else? Is there any more blood?” He checks you over for any other injuries but you can only shake your head.
“I… I’m okay.” You pant, looking back at the unconscious attacker on the ground. With the threat neutralised, it takes you a second to catch your breath.
They really tried to kill you. If they’re trying to get you, that must mean they want you out of the way so they can get rid of the prince without interference. If that’s true, he could be in trouble this very minute. “Jian Yu, he’s in danger!”
You jump up, nearly toppling back over before steadying yourself. “Dove, wait!” Wukong gets to his feet as well, reaching to take hold of your arm but you’re already slamming the door open and running into the hall. You race through the building, tripping over your own feet but you refuse to let any slip ups slow you down.
By the time you get to his room, you don’t bother with knocking. The door shoots open and you run in, exhaling heavily until that final breath catches in your throat. The prince is limp on the floor on his side, at the foot of his bed. A figure stands over him, a small blade in hand dripping with his blood.
“No!” Your voice shreds as you run. The crack of wood echoes through the room as you slam your bow over the head of the figure just as they turn to face you. The hit carries enough force to snap your bow in two and send them to the floor, knocking them out.
Dropping what’s left of your bow, you kneel down to turn the prince on his back. He winces as you move him onto his back and pull him into your arms. “No, no no no no…” His eyes are still open, wide and terrified. Crimson seeps into his clothing from his abdomen, he’s convulsing and his breathing is erratic.
You were supposed to keep him safe, why couldn’t you keep him safe?! “No, no, please! Not again– not again! Stay with me!” His hands feel clammy as they grip onto your arm.
“No, no!” He goes to speak, but is unable to. You try to heal the wound, but you can hardly gather yourself to do so, you feel like the walls of the room are closing in. Even putting pressure on the wound feels futile, you can see the light in eyes leaving again as you try. “Listen to my voice, you can’t go! Jie! I won’t lose you again! Jie, please!”
Something makes you shake, you only now notice the hands on your shoulders. “Dove!” You look back to see Sun Wukong over your shoulder. Was he here this whole time? “The blade reeks of that flower.” He looks back to where the figure dropped their weapon and your heart sinks even lower. If that’s true, stopping the bleeding will do nothing. He’s going to die.
“Help him!” You plead, your hold of the boy tightening. “Please, Wukong, I can’t let him die! I can’t just sit here and watch him die again!”
The demon frowns. “I can’t do anything, I can’t cure the poison.” It’s happening again. You’ll have killed him twice. The same boy, twice–
“Dove, Dove! Snap out of it!” You’re shaken again, the Monkey King now in front of you. He’s blurry, your vision obscured by the tears now stinging your eyes. “I can’t help him, but you can. You can heal him.”
“I can’t!” You can hardly breathe, you can’t do anything to help him.
Wukong’s hold on your shoulders tightens. “Use your gift–”
“I’m trying!” Your voice cracks, the demon flinching back as you cradle the boy in your arms. “It’s not working! I can’t do it, I can’t save him! Jie’s dying and I can’t do anything!”
“Yes, you can!” He moves his hand to cup your face. He guides you to face him as he wipes the tears streaming down your face. “Look at me, Dove. You need to focus, breathe.” He speaks calmly, his voice low and grounding. “You’ve cured my blindness, an infected flesh wound is nothing in comparison! I know you can do it. Just breathe.”
His tail curls around your arm, squeezing in reassurance. He’s right, you’re the only one that can save him now. You can’t watch him die again, you won’t– He won’t die. You look back at Sun Wukong, and he gives you a reassuring nod. Your breathing begins to slow, and you look back down to Jian Yu.
Shutting your eyes tight, you do your best to regulate your breathing and focus on his injury. The agonising throbbing in your shoulder is a distraction, but one you bear as you begin to work. The wound is deep, the poison already coursing through his body. You focus on the poison, the blood pooling out from his abdomen, his life that hangs on a thread.
In that moment, your already dwindling strength begins to slip as you work to heal him. You don’t stop, pushing to close the wound. You keep your breathing steady, your mind focused on your task as your energy slips away. Wukong’s hand leaves your face, and you feel arms catch you before you can even realise you fell over.
You open your eyes, now with barely enough energy to keep them open. It’s worth it when you see the prince lunge forward, sitting up in a panic before falling back.
Familiar arms keep you close, holding you to a chest that, under different circumstances, would make you chuckle over its faint scent of peaches. All you can manage is a soft grunt, the fight to stay awake becoming too much. Anything Wukong says to you falls on deaf ears, the struggle to stay conscious while ignoring the pain in your shoulder becomes too much.
At least he’s safe.
~~~~
Everything feels sore, your limbs heavy as your eyes start to open. Light pours into your room from the window as you lie in bed, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust. Your head thunders in this throbbing pain and when you reach up to feel it, you wince. Sitting up, you see that your shoulder is heavily wrapped, still aching from your dagger during that fight.
“Careful.” You turn to see Wukong at your side, taking you by your good shoulder and guiding you back to lie down.
Your brows furrow. “…Monkey?”
“How do you feel?” He asks, taking hold of your hand.
You groan a bit, massaging your temple with your free hand. “My head feels like it’s been split down the middle.”
Instead of any verbal response, your friend whacks you over the head with his tail. You grunt while he scoffs. “That must be what happens when you use all your energy after depriving yourself from sleep.”
“I was also stabbed. Trying to heal someone while bleeding out can be a little painful.” You deadpan, but only for a moment before realisation hits you. “The prince, is he–”
“Better than you, that is for certain.” He responds curtly, annoyance seeping through his words before smirking. “You saved his life.” Hearing that, you let go of a breath you had no idea you were holding.
As relief courses through you, Wukong continues. “All your screaming woke up half the palace. With you practically dead in my arms and that prince lying in his own blood, I had to convince the guards I wasn’t responsible for killing you both.” Oh, that would look bad.
He continues to inform you of the fate of the culprits. “They confessed yesterday to the other attempts as well as killing the queen. I’m not too interested in the politics of it all, but your beloved prince is safe.”
You don’t even process the sourness in his tone before jolting up to sit. “Wait, yesterday?!”
“Careful!” Wukong hisses, leaning over to ensure your shoulder is still alright. Once he’s done fussing, he lets out a tired huff. “And, yes, yesterday. You’ve been unconscious for the last… hmm, 37 hours? That’s what I counted anyway.” It’s been over a day?!
“Master and your sweet little prince have been in a few times to check on you and keep me up to date with what has been going on.” He explains, making you think on his words for a moment. Counting the hours, having people catch him up– has Sun Wukong been with you this whole time you’ve slept?
Huh. “So… he’s safe?” You want to ask him how long he’s been sitting with you, but you decide against it.
“Yes.” He rolls his eyes, and you shut your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as the stress that’s been weighing on you finally lifts. He’s really safe.
When you open your eyes, you lean over to wrap Wukong in a tight embrace. “Thank you.” He stiffens at your touch, frozen for a moment before chuckling.
“Heh, you’re the one who saved your betrothed.” He mumbles, and you feel an arm slowly wrap around your back.
“I wouldn’t have been able to without you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t with me.” You give the monkey demon one last squeeze before sitting back. You still hold him by his shoulders, offering a smile to show your gratitude.
You’re met with silence, your friend fixing you with a look you can’t quite read. His eyes look almost a little stunned, wide.
He eventually cracks a smile, but before he can say anything, a knock at your door interrupts you. One of the palace servants enter, it’s one of the women who have been taking care of you since you’ve been here. Her face lights up when she sees the two of you. “You’ve awoken! I will have the physician come to see you right away.”
“Oh, that’s alright.” You wave, but she’s already gone before you finish your sentence. After she leaves, you’re given another flick from Wukong’s tail. “Hey!”
“Shh, you do need to be checked on.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “To re-wrap your shoulder, or something… I don’t know, I’m not any sort of physician.” His gaze falls to the ground as he rambles, and you can’t help the smile that gives itself a place on your face.
You’ve seen it before, when he’s almost unsure of his words, but it’s not often when he acts like this. It’s endearing, though. He catches you staring when he looks back, and clears his throat. “I can leave you to rest, if you want.”
He stands to leave, but you catch his hand. “No, stay. I think I’ve slept long enough.” He looks back at you, traces of a small smile forming before he nods.
“Alright, then.” He shakes his head, almost in amusement, before returning to his spot by your side. “I could tell you what I’ve been up to with Master and my brothers.”
“Have the three of you managed to give Tripitaka a heart attack in my absence?” You grin, making the demon chuckle.
“Not yet, but we’ve gotten close.” He smirks, making you roll your eyes playfully. As he begins to fill you in on the hijinks that have ensued since you’ve been in the palace, you lie back and listen to your friend.
~~~~
After the physician leaves, a servant follows to take you to the gardens. Even with Sun Wukong’s reassurance of his well being, it’s still a welcome sight to see the prince on his feet again. He stands on the same bridge where all this madness started, a warm smile spreading to his face as he sees you approach.
He greets you as you join him on the bridge, and you do the same. “How are you feeling, Jian Yu?”
“Wonderful, thanks to you.” He nods. “Your monkey companion explained your powers to me, it seems you have saved my life twice now.”
You offer him a polite smile before turning to look out over the pond. “I heard the guilty party has confessed.”
The prince sighs. “Yes. At last, I can rest knowing my mother’s killer is going to pay for their actions.” You look back to him, his expression solemn at the mention of his mother.
Silence encompasses the space around you, save for the buzzing of insects and rustle of leaves. The prince seems… you’re not sure what to call it exactly. When you spoke that night before going back to your room, there was a fire in his words. With the criminal now locked away, that flame is barely there. Not put out, but small. There was such determination in his voice, but now he seems almost too quiet.
You take a moment to study his features. “Can you rest?”
It takes him a moment to answer. “…I hope I will be able to. I am unsure of what I feel now.” He frowns, stepping forward to lean on the railing of the bridge. “So many nights, I have spent tossing and turning in bed. I thought I was restless because of the thoughts about that monster still roaming free… but last night, I found no comfort.”
He looks down to the water, his fist clenching as his confused reflection looks back. “Is something wrong with me?”
You take a moment of thought before answering, your gaze on his back before stepping up to join him by the railing. “Perhaps your restlessness does not come from your anxieties. Maybe you just… miss her. That’s normal, to miss someone, to wish you could see them one last time.” You look down at his reflection in the pond, his eyes turning back to look at you.
“You understand that feeling, don’t you?” You feel yourself stiffen at the question, and your head swivels to look up at him. The prince quickly takes a step back, sensing your discomfort. “I was, um, conscious enough to still hear you for a bit. When I was bleeding out.”
Oh, he heard you. Your eyes fall back to the water as he continues. “You called me Jie. He was someone you were close to, wasn’t he?”
You stare back at your own reflection, and you notice the bags under your eyes. “…We were children. Demons attacked our village, we were separated from our families and he was trying to get us to safety.” You shake your head, shutting your eyes doesn’t stop you from seeing that night.
“He had given me a gift, I left it in my home and I wanted to retrieve it before we got somewhere safe. Everything was on fire… he wanted to leave but eventually, he followed me into the house.” Water begins to sting at your eyes, and you quickly wipe your tears before they have the chance to fall. “I got what I wanted, but we tried to leave and then… then I watched a blade run through his chest. His eyes–” You choke on your words, and the prince steps closer, holding you by your shoulders as you stifle a cry.
You look up at him, a sad smile on your face as you take in his worried features. Every expression he makes, it only reminds you of him. “You have his eyes. If he– If Jie had the chance to grow up, mature… I imagine he would have looked like you.” You look back down to the water, embarrassed to be saying any of this out loud. “I miss him. I miss him so much. Sometimes, I dream of that night, and I try to change things. It always ends the same.”
“…Can I tell you something?” Jian Yu whispers, and you look up to see him glance away. “I had another reason. For asking for your help, that is.”
You frown, now confused. “It seemed inappropriate at the time to mention it, but… when I first saw you the day you saved me, I– heh, I had the strangest feeling of nostalgia.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck almost awkwardly. “It was like I was seeing someone I used to know, but I couldn’t quite recall.”
He looks back to you, but you’re not sure what to think of his words. The confession is almost too much for you to digest, but the longer you think it through, you find yourself smiling. “If my Da Jie were to reincarnate, I would not be surprised to find him as a prince in his new life.” You can’t help the sniffle that escapes, and the prince smiles.
“Is that who you think I am?” He questions, and you let out a tired huff.
“I’m not sure. Whether or not you are… would it be inappropriate of me to ask for a hug?” You ask.
“I think you need it.” Jian Yu opens his arms, and the two of you embrace. You hold him closely, no longer bothering to stop the tears as they fall.
The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for some time, and when you finally step back, you both hold onto one another’s arms. The prince gives you a kind smile. “When I was told you had awoken, I sent for your friends. They should be arriving soon.”
“Then I guess this is goodbye.” You return the smile, letting go of the man as he does the same.
“I suppose it is.” He nods, seemingly content before his eyes widen and his brows shoot up. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Follow me.”
Taking your hand, Jian Yu leads you off the bridge. He guides you back to the tree you first spotted him from, though now something tall lies against the trunk. It’s wrapped in cloth with a white chrysanthemum lying next to it. He takes the flower, handing it to you first. “Chrysanthemums were one of my mother’s favourite flowers. After I heard you calling for your friend the other night… I think she would find it appropriate that you have one.”
“Thank you.” You take the flower, twirling the stem as you look down at its delicate petals before Jian Yu hands you the second item, holding it in both hands..
You take the gift, unwrapping it before looking back to the prince in surprise. “I also couldn’t send an archer on her way without a bow.” It’s new, not even stringed yet. On the back of it, your name is inscribed.
“Yu… Thank you.” When you look back at him, you see your friend smiling back at you.
“And thank you.” This time, it isn’t so hard to look him in the eyes.
Once you say your goodbyes, you meet the others back at the gates of the palace. With everyone accounted for, you leave the kingdom and resume the journey westward.
After catching up with everyone, you hang at the back of the group. It doesn’t take long for Wukong to fall back to your side, glancing over at your bow you hold in one hand while keeping the chrysanthemum between your fingers of your other hand.
He hums a bit, his lips stretched into a thin line while inspecting your new bow. “Your friend got you a cool new toy, huh?”
You hold the bow up with a soft smile. “It might take me some time to get used to it, but it’s a brilliant bow.” He lets out a bit of a scoff at your answer, and you look back at him with an amused brow raised.
“Well, hey, if you ever run out of arrows, just let Ol’ Monkey know.” He points back at himself, your grin growing as you begin to see hints of… is that jealousy? Is this why he was acting so upset that night when he caught you going to the prince? What does he have to be jealous of, it isn’t as though you would consider abandoning the pilgrimage. You are a buddhist monk, after all.
The sage plucks out a bit of hair from his arm. “All I have to do is take a few hairs and…” He turns them into arrows, all a perfect length for your new bow.
You accept the arrows, your grin showing no signs of fading as you slide them into your quiver. It does, however, morph into the thankful look you give your friend. “Thank you, and Wukong? I want to apologise for how I spoke to you earlier.”
“I was stressed and overtired, and maybe a little obsessed– but that’s no excuse. I know you were only trying to look out for me, and I appreciate that.” You look back to your friends ahead of you, this warm feeling filling your chest. You’ve missed being in their presence, it was good that Wukong was able to check in on you every now and then in the palace. He kept you afloat in the stress that threatened to drown you.
He takes the chrysanthemum from your hand. “It’s alright, it is my fault for putting you into that position in the first place. I’m just glad you’re here with us now.” He tucks the flower behind your ear as he speaks. “I know how much this entire ordeal has been weighing on you. I sort of, uh… maybe eavesdropped on you and the prince before you left.”
You raise a brow at his confession, though you aren’t too surprised, knowing who he is. “I’m sorry about your friend.” He offers his condolences, and you look back down at the path you’re on.
“If it makes you feel better, you would have had to leave him anyway for your stay in the Jade Palace, right?” He attempts to comfort you, but the deadpan stare you give him is enough for him to backtrack. “I- I mean, uh… no matter what could have happened, what did happen, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know you really were listening to all those times where he rambled about his little plant facts.”
His words make you hum in acknowledgement, and after a moment you smile. “Yes, I can imagine how happy he’d be about that. He’d be at ease to know I don’t go around picking poisonous flowers anymore.” You laugh, looking ahead to your group.
Yeah, he’d be happy to see where you are now.
#wukong really has a way with words#like i said super happy fluff chapter 😃#little dove#jttw sun wukong#sun wukong x reader
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Bakery ownerKai! Smutty hcs:"
✰---Summary: you pass this new bakery so often. and from what you can tell from just through the windows, it's full of cheer and life. whoever uses it makes the most of the small space. their personality really shines through in the decorations and the desserts looked good and well... you couldn't deny that the baker with the apron and the broad shoulders looked good in there as well. so you decide to stop in. but this is only the beginning: now he smiles when he thinks of you and your cute interaction together, hoping you'd come back and then soon enough... you do.
✰--- approx: 20 min read
✰---A/n: idk if these are considered hcs anymore lol here's a fic to hopefully tide over y'all while I finish up on that much much longer one for Vernon. may or may not turn this into a full fic OR just another hc post. probably the second because of the Vernon fic coming out perhaps in two chapters. andI feel as if this would just be better in "hc " format. (Maybe some header images coming soon idk) trying to make my fics prettier do y'all like the life stars?
✰---warningz/info: cursing I think, lots of talk of eating and desserts, smutty, Kai jerks off, I have a little brake telling you where the NSFW starts, reader has boobs but otherwise is gn I think. and that’s about it.
~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~
if you don’t have an age indicator saying you’re not a minor in your blog then I will be blocking you! So minors dni!!
••••••••••••••••••••••••
Bakery owner!Kai who whips his head around spilling chocolate on the floor when he hears your voice for the first time. He has just opened the shop, it was a hole in the wall and cutesy— plushies and Pokémon character figurines on the shelves, stuff like that. You saw it then you saw him. With his powdered sugar dusted apron from the doughnuts this morning. And in this moment he realizes how very, extremely, dank he looks right now. His eye bags are dragging down his face like circles of hell, he hadnt had time to do much anything about it this morning. His hair isn’t really done. He had slept through his first alarm (something he hasn’t done is forever) and had to get here, to make the stupid doughnuts early because well, he’s the only worker here. Ugh why did I have to conserve on money this way? He thought to himself. The bowl clatters with a reverberating and embarrassing clang. He cringes, quickly going to pick it up as you greet him so so so cutely he thinks his heart will explode.
Bakery owner!Kai who’s blush on his cheeks looks so adorable to you you have half a mind to tell him. You’d Been passing this shop for days but you’d finally gotten a chance to go in this morning. He’d never know, but you’d looked into your phones selfie camera to fix your appearance one last time before going in after taking a deep breath. And you smile at the way he endearingly shares the story of how he got the shop with you.
Bakery owner!Kai who somehow feels so comfortable with you quickly when you ask about the weird names for all his desserts. He says it’s a long story and you tell him you’ve got all the time in the world for it. And he smiles wide and your knees go weak. And then because of the air of the shop you carried in with you when you set foot into the place or vibe you give off he doesn’t know but he just blabbers on and on about why he named the desserts what he did
◆◆◆◆◆nsfw under the cut◆◆◆◆◆
Bakery owner!Kai who hopes and prays that you’ll be back. and that night he can’t get you out of his head. oh no.... he really can't. and he almost feels bad when the thought of you and your sweet as sugar smile is being tossed around in his mind, making his stomach do flips as his weeping cock is dripping onto his fist. and he just can't.... stop. not that he wants to. hes pretty sure your imagine is burned in his mind till the day he dies... ok, maybe a little over exaggerated but you get the point. but now he can't think. his mind his clouded with how he should've invested in more business cards. so he could've given you one and maybe suavely told you to call him if you ever had a sugar emergency
ok... that was a little cheesy so maybe not. but who the hell knows, maybe you'd like it?! he'd gone over that small interaction you two had that day-- wondering, even though it was all a blur, how he made you feel; comfortable? at ease? oh, he hopes so. even the way he handed the box to you, with a free pastry in there as well, of course, tied with his best, perkiest ribbon all neatly. he wanted to make sure it was perfect for you. even if he never saw you again, even if you both forgot in a weeks time. he wanted to make a good impression while he had the chance.
he even worried about how the pastry tasted. though, he was confident in his skills with his passion he couldn't help but think about it all the rest of that day. which... when he though about it... seemed lonely without you in his shop. was it a good texture? flavors balanced enough? not the slightest hint of staleness? he made sure to grab one from the back of the display counter to make sure.
"you must really wanna see them again?" his friend joked "youre in looooveeee"
Bakery ownerKai! who, when he says that, rolls his eyes at Beomgyu, the friend with powdered sugar caked on his face thicker than he could grow his own beard to be. who was sitting at his table, getting crumbs all over it with the weird way he was sitting.... with his feet... all over the booth. Not even with shoes on! just bare feet. which kai honestly didnt mind much. he lets his friends eat here when hes closing up and nobody's around all the time. they'll usually clean out the couple things here and there that didnt sell and would've been thrown away anyways.
so when he drops his broomstick, almost shrieking, whisper yelling at Beomgyu to get his feet off the furniture, his friend at question is a little bit confused but does it anyway.
Baker ownerKai! who's nonchalant and laughing at his friends comment shaking his head and thinking to himself: no no, thats not true. pfff this guy is outta his mind! that was... until he saw you walk in again. "hello! I know you're closing in like--" you check your phone, "five minutes. but would you mind? that dessert I got a bit back was so good I had to literally run here from work to get the same one." he nods, smiling. and Beomgyu sits up straight in his seat at the way you two are just sitting there.... looking at each other for just a little too long. Kai swiftly drops down to pick up the broom he had dropped before leading you to the counter.
"sorry about that. I was just setting up traps for any burglars, but I trust you'll pay right?" he chuckles and you laugh along with him. "if I didnt pay then id never be able to have any more of this delicious delicacy, am I right?" you joke back. he nodes and keeps up his very much not customer service smile and gets you the dessert he remembers giving you in a box. "aw thank you!" he places the tongs down into the sink "thats really sweet of you! was it that good?" he turns back around to face you, closing up the box and you can't help but stare at the way his hands flex when his nimble fingers are pushing that box closed.
you realize youre taking too long to respond, "no seriously, it was!" you lean excitedly on the counter, bouncing on your heels. "and thats why I had to come back for more., and why I need to pay and leave a generous tip" you chuckle, already counting out the cash for the little doughnut shaped tip jar. "or maybe I could just give it to you for free!" his back is turned, snipping a stand of that pretty expensive ribbon he used especially for yours last time and made sure to move towards the front of the ribbon rack in case you came back so that he'd reach it easily.
"wait? what? no! youre joking right?" he spins back around to you, smirk on his face. "not in the slightest." he chirps. then hands you the box. you stuff your tip in the jar. "no seriously! please, take the money." you weren't worried that he now might think you owe him, he seemed to nice for that. "and im serious too. its like one pastry. you'd be taking it off my hands and doing be a favor actually if you'd like to think of it that way that is. not that is isn't fresh." he shrugged. hes leaning in over the counter a little bit, apron bumping the iPad customers would use to pay. you open your mouth to say something but he stops you "you already tipped me! even if you didnt just take it. my treat."
you didnt know it but in his mind he was already dreaming of having one ready every week for when you came in. maybe a sticky note with his number one day too? "wow thanks so much! thats so sweet of you!" you hold the box closer to you and look down at it.
you also didnt know it, but hes his half hard cock is now pressed up against the cabinet under the counter. and hes trying not to imagine you with powered sugar on your nose... not a very sexual sight in itself he guesses, but something cute none the less and that won't do his situation any good. hes also trying not to think of you licking your fingers after the delicious dessert, or the way youre leaned over the counter even more now, giving him a perfect vantage point of your plush boobs that after accidentally seeing a peak of once he wants to never do so again.
hes mature, or at least needs to be about this. not that he doesn't want to. cause god he really wants to take a sneak peak down. who wouldn't? youre sweet and gorgeous, and funny! but he wants you to know who he really is. so thats why hes currently focusing really hard on your eyebrow and trying so damn hard not to even glance down in that general direction. even if he was doing something entirely different than peaking.... cause thats what gentleman does.
"wait how'd you know my order?"
and now hes back on earth. he scratches the back of his neck. "I uh" "were you hoping id be back?" you smile, obviously meaning it' as a joke. but he just smiles back "bakers memory," he taps his brain, "there a lot up here ya know. gotta remembers recipes and stuff" he takes it as a win cause it was a good distraction. you take it as a win cause he kinda just called you important... right?
you dont pay and see yourself out. as youre opening the door you sniff the box "ugh smells so good! can't wait. thanks again!" and just like that youre gone
Bakery ownerKai! who's friend who is usually such a yapper, is at a loss for words for a second after you leave until he simply says: "I get the feeling you'll be seeing them a lot"
~end~
I’m gonna do a part two/ make this into a full on fic eventually. Just wanted something to post until I finish the bigger fic I’m working on. If you liked it please leave some love like comments or a reblog!
Thanks for reading <3
Taglist: @bamtorin
#hueningkai kai smut#hueningkai smut#huening kai x reader#ghosts writing#txt smut#txt imagines#tomorrow x together#txt hueningkai
54 notes
·
View notes