#i want to go into the street and look for you
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This cultural mechanism of denying humanity of certain individuals (most often villains) has a name. Rene Girard wrote about it in his book called The Scapegoat. I tried finding ANY reblog of this post which actually mentions this, but despite scrolling through at least half of reblogs, I couldn't find it, which means even if someone did point it out then it still went pretty much unnoticed.
We all know who or what a scapegoat is. It's that thing or that person, the root of evil, the source of chaos, the troublemaker, the trickster disrupting the long established safety and order (which is, ofc, the ultimate good). If you only get rid of the problematic individual, everything will be okay again. That's how it works. But there's a problem with it. There's never one scapegoat. After one comes another, and another, and another, till you get hundreds and thousands of them and you can't fit them in one neat grave or prison anymore. They keep coming and there will be more and more of them, this will never stop, because it's a cycle. A cycle of violence. If you really want for "things to be okay", you need to break that cycle, instead of finding YET another scapegoat, yet another villain to bury for all of our sins. By sacrficing another villain, another victim, another scapegoat on the altar of society, you only support the cycle to keep on going.
Yes, you heard me right. Villains are scapegoats. But victims ARE scapegoats as well. Anyone we forcefully silence and refuse to give agency to is the scapegoat. The homeless, the LGBT, the mentally different, any disabled people etc. Anyone who fits into a very broad category of "otherness". But here's the catch. Because this category is so broad it's very easy to become that "other". That's why people are willing to go to extreme lengths just to make sure no one sees them as "other". They will deny their disabilities, they will deny they're not like those "others", they will even deny their own struggles, just to fit into the safe mold of "normal". And if you silence yourself just because you're afraid you might be the next one victimized or villainized, you're also a scapegoat, btw. Your inner life and self-consistency is the sacrifice on the altar of society that doesn't care if you actually have a heart. All it cares about is for you to make sure you're "normal", which has a very murky definition too. Who's normal? The one who acts like the majority of others? The one who has the applause? (applause can be shortlived and depends on trends, it's dangerous, you're dancing on the edge). Every time we see someone as the "other" we judge, we're scapegoating them. Yes, all of us, by succumbing to our fear of being judged, contribute to this mechanism. Otherwise the seams of the society might fall apart and we can all turn against each other, we can rip apart the system, they warn us of anarchy, you might get killed in the middle of the street, there will be no police to guard the order, no prisons to keep the bad eggs away from you. Stay quiet, endure, it's for the safety of all of us.
No one should have to carry that weight of the whole world on their own shoulders. Not like this. But we do, every single day.
We're all capable of being bad people and often are. But we also all want to believe we're good. People think if someone didn't get love there's a reason of why they didn't receive it. That belief didn't come out of nowhere. It's internalized violence and judgemental mentality. You prefer to doom someone else as long as it saves yourself from being doomed. You're not only hurting others with it, but YOURSELF as well in the process. You get rid of your true empathy for others, you decide whose pain or suffering is the one "worthy" of acceptance and which is not and needs to be condemned. You can't afford that empathy for anyone else than you after a while, after all you live in constant, silent fear of "being next" if you just stop for a moment and look too long at the scapegoats buried around you. And what you fail to see is that you're also a scapegoat. If we all accept each other and ourselves as "others", if we're all just different people and no one is normal anymore, will this finally break the cycle?
You want to feel like a good person? Of course, we all do. But you can't achieve that if you're too afraid to look into the abyss/mirror and realize you also do bad things. You also need to redeem yourself. You can do better, but it's not easy. You know what's easy instead? Finding a scapegoat and blaming them for their own misery. Literally requires no work, the world will applause you and all you need to do is repeat same words after others. The mechanism works like a perpetuum mobile at this point, it will mostly do this job for you. Just take a stand, deem the villains, blame the victims, ignore the struggles and pain of others.
But here's the catch. If you're too cold, you're also gonna be judged and called a psychopath. That's also a no-no, you're becoming the unacceptable "other" again. You have to show, in specific, allowed circumenstances, that you feel sorry for others. That you know how to choose the "right" side. That you understand "good" needs sacrfices and sometimes you're even expected to cry for them. And if you see those sacrfices as not-human "others", it's easier to accept it all.
Many people claim how scary it is to face certain truths, like "victims can turn into villains too", but the real truth no one wants to face is actually this: we allowed this to happen. We allowed the villains to be formed, all of us. Every time we engage in judgemental actions, every time we police someone dealing with their pain "in wrong way", every time we call someone "born evil". Every time we point a finger and call someone a villain, a victim, a barbarian, the other. By doing that we trap them in endless world of pain and suffering and abuse. They also want to be out of that cycle, but we keep trapping them, by silencing them and adding our own narrative on top. They suffer for our sins. Because they're our scapegoat, the sacrifice we made to keep on going, thinking how good this world is and how much worse it could have been, just look in the right places. Just don't look at the scapegoats too long. They corrupt. Maybe their otherness is even contagious, so stay as far away from them as possible.
You're allowed to be mad about this, btw. Anger is a neccessary emotion, it points at injustice done to you. But the society wants you to throw that emotion away and supress it, so you're tamed and silenced. It might even create a "safe space" to vent it out, by encouragig you into physical activities or taking part in some entertainment, so you can lose your steam in a way that doesn't challenge the system. It's a distraction. (the point here isn't to condemn sport or popculture btw, it just serves as an example, ok?)
All communities work like this. We're all trapped in endless cycle of violence. We bury endless scapegoats under our communities, they become our foundations. After all, nothing unites different people better than finding a common villain, it's us (the good) vs them (the evil). Wait, did I just say "different people"? But we're supposed to be all the same! No, that's a myth. We were all always different. We just have to choose who is "more different than others", so we can unite ourselves against them.
You know what that reminds me of? "We're all equal. But some are more equal than others". Animal farm was about power structures. By accepting easy scapegoats, by abiding to this mechanism, we support the power system that oppresses us. Think about it. Our civilisation is build on this and it would not thrive the way it did without the scapegoats.
And all of you blaming christianity for this instead, you need to understand one thing. What Jesus taught was actually the reverse of scapegoating. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her”. This is literally Jesus telling people "you all have sinned, so why are you judging them if you don't judge yourself?". What you all mean by christian/puritanist beliefs is how christianity got distorted and institutionalized into a power abusing system called religion. Swallowed up by what it tried to fight against. Always identify the actual source of abuse, instead of doing more scapegoating. I'm in no way inclined to defend christianity (not in the form it exists now), but also if we keep on muddling the truth we will always make the same mistake, so, always dig deeper to avoid it. Thank you.
not to post even more Villains Discourse on main but it really bugs me how people read giving villains tragic backstories as inherently excusing their actions and/or demonizing trauma survivors.
the actual message of Tragic Villains is (almost) always “people who are never taught or given any healthy, constructive outlets for their emotions will often find unhealthy, destructive outlets.” it’s that people who are traumatized and never learn how to cope with that trauma can become a danger to themselves and others. the message isn’t “trauma makes you evil!!!!” or “genocide is okay if you’ve been sad before!!!!” it’s “people need compassion and help to recover from trauma instead of becoming increasingly angry and harming themselves and others in the process.”
this site takes an alarmingly behaviorist and punitive approach to everything and it’s literally the most annoying thing. y’all have this concept that “if we just punish people hard enough, if we just scare them enough, if we just make them feel guilty enough.” that people just Do Bad Things Because They Do Bad Things, I Guess, and Because We Didn’t Threaten Them And Shame Them Enough. but humans are an innately social species. at our very core, we need compassion and kindness. we need healthy relationships with other humans.
you can keep looking at traumatized villains and being like “haha this dumb pathetic sadboi thinks murder is okay because his parents died” but as a survivor myself, unaddressed/untreated trauma absolutely can make you ragey and destructive. i was lucky enough to have support and eventually get the treatment i needed. but it’s not hard at all for me to imagine how, if that hadn’t been the case, that could’ve been me. obviously not on a movie-villain scale like murder or war crimes, but it’s so irritating as someone whose trauma has always manifested as anger to watch people on this site be like “this is just bad writing!!! real survivors/good survivors don’t end up like that the writers just hate survivors and want the audience to condone murder!”
#I have more thoughts about redemption boundaries consent prisons and power in general#but I just wanted people to know about the scapegoat mechanism and the cycle of violence so this post will have to do without#just please we have to understand one distinction here: just because someone hurt us doesn't mean we have to excuse that person#you need to draw that boundary but you can do that without scapegoating#and you don't actually have to forgive anyone#we don't have to constantly scapegoat someone in fear of not being scapegoated ourselves#we can understand someone did a bad thing because they were coping in bad way#and at the same time not villainize them and condemn them and deny them humanity and silence them#yet we're allowed to not want them anywhere near us at the same time#this can coexist. that's what boundaries are for!#scapegoat#cycle of violence#rene girard#power structures#anthropology#anthropology of otherness#philosophy#sounds like controversial conspiracy theory post? I'm not actually sorry for this#I'm used to the fact that lots of philosophical subjects sound like conspiracy to people lol#I could write whole thesis about scapegoating in cultures#there is just so much material and angles to it#all I did here was explain the very basic mechanism of the cycle of violence and how it feeds on itself#it's just the tip of the iceberg#I couldn't even touch on how the scapegoats get dehumanized for the sake of the system#yes victims are dehumanized as well which is why people try to change the discourse and use words like “survivor” instead of “victim”#to reclaim the human status back#in summary: you choose people who stand out; ostracize them; and in time of crisis put the blame on them#no one will defend them but instead unite against them; the conflict gets resolved by cutting the scapegoat off#everyone is happy again (besides the scapegoats ofc)#I'm sure you saw this process repeated to no end (video games? blamed for making kids violent; abuser? provoked by the victim etc.)
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A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 11 - The Empress
summary : Eris comes over to spend the holidays with you, and drags jayce and viktor in tarot readings. Some bad news linger in the air, but nez beginnings are blooming.
content warnings : lots of dialogue. like a lot. and an enourmous amount of tarot yapping, some angst, and some fluff to close it all
word count : 12,4k
author's note : i hate having like zero perception of my own writing ARGH i hope this is good. gosh this is so long. but hey first writing post of 2025 yey!!!
NOT proofread for now
masterlist : here
Piltover under the snow had a profoundly different atmosphere to its usual gilt. The domes and roofs covered in thick snow gave the impression that all the clouds in the sky had fallen on the town, covering it in a smooth white mantle. It seemed silent, as if frozen in time.
As you emerged from the dormitory building, wrapped in your scarf up to your nose, you were greeted by the incessant waltz of snowflakes falling from the sky, tumbling like white feathers like all the angels in the skies had removed their leaves like the trees, simply guided by the wind towards an unknown destination. But it didn't matter, they were flying, simply free.
Your boots crunched in the snow as you set off towards the bridge to find Eris. The day had come for you to pick her up, and as agreed you were going to meet her at the usual bridge linking the two cities.
The town was all decked out with garlands and lights criss-crossing from buildings to buildings, apparently firmly preventing any colour other than gold from running through its streets. The carcasses of trees stripped of their foliage were lit up again, the majority of passers-by had their gloved hands around a cup of hot chocolate, and children were running after each other with snowballs in their hands ready to fire at their friends.
Still, there were fewer people than usual, the majority staying at home in the comfort and warmth of a well-insulated fireplace. You didn't need to wonder what it was like in Zaun, you had spent enough winters there that you didn't miss it.
The lack of heat in the promenade level wasn't too bad, although it would have been useful to have good chimneys or radiators that didn't break every other day. Some of the holes in the roofs led to leaks, but despite a few power cuts, it was possible to live normally.
Surprisingly, the sump level was the least worst. The constant heat from the machines brought a little warmth back to the bowels of the city, and this time the most hard-pressed workers found themselves in a new level of comfort.
As for the entresol level, it was a terrible in-between. Too far away from the big energy machines, and receiving the freezing snows in certain crevices falling from the top, the entresol level was poorly housed, at least in your memories. Who knows, perhaps public heaters filled with flammable resources had been introduced to prevent anyone from being absent from the streets.
When you reached the bridge, it was almost deserted, apart from the unfortunate enforcers chosen on this day to ensure customs and passage between each town. With your hands shoved into your pockets, you waited for your friend to appear in the distance.
It was always preferable for you to be present and to set up a meeting point like this, just in case the enforcers wanted to cause problems for nothing when looking for papers and for you to confirm that she was with you.
Sky would no doubt have liked to come and meet your friend. You had already spoken to her about your soul sister, and she would have greatly appreciated seeing her. But Sky was already on the other side, spending her holidays with her family on the Promenade level. You hoped she wouldn't have any problems, no leaks, no power cuts.
At last you saw your friend's face, wearing a cap almost as black as her hair, as she made her way painfully towards the enforcers. Mechanically, she took out her papers, her fingertips peeking out of her mittens as she passed them to the officer before quickly stuffing them back into her pocket to keep out the cold. She exchanged an annoyed glance with you as the man made sure everything was in order, earning you a chuckle as she puffed out her cheeks before sighing heavily. He finally handed her her papers, and she gave him a polite but cold smile before moving towards you.
"It's like they take their time on purpose," she breathed, before taking you in her arms.
You hugged her back, despite the thickness of the coats that separated you with difficulty. "You're too pretty for the Piltover standards, they have to double-check if you're real."
With a tired laugh, she backed away from you, squeezing your shoulders and examining you for a moment. "Have you been doing something to your skin or is it just the perfect air of the city that does that?"
You brought your gloved hands to your cheeks, not really having changed your routine. "I'll have to look at what was in that champagne they served at the masquerade."
She raised her eyebrows, then frowned. "Masquerade?"
"Let's walk home," you said as you started to move forward, "I'll tell you one the way."
"You seem to be having a whole lot of fun without me around, young lady. I envy you," sighed Eris. "I don't get many highlights in my days."
"Am I not the highlight of your day?’"
"As long as we aren't in a warm place, you're not."
"Ouch!" you say falsely offended, bringing your hand to your chest. "This vexes me."
"I'm sure you'll overcome this affront." She pressed her shoulder against yours. "Tell me about what I missed. Since when do you go to masquerades?"
You sighed, a wisp of steam rising into the sky as you finally reached the end of the bridge. "After the exams, our dear Jayce Talis asked us to come with him to a masquerade because he was terrified of it."
"Us? Did Sky come with you?" Eris repeated, arching an eyebrow.
You shook your head, as if it was really ridiculous. "If only it had been Sky," you turned to her. "The Emperor himself has honoured us with his presence."
"Are things always this thorny with him?" She questioned.
You shrugged. "I don't know."
"You? Not knowing? That's a first," Eris chuckled.
"It's just... I don't know." You sighed, taking a turn with Eris. "There's change everywhere and I still have to get used to it, change in my relationships, in my mind." You let your shoulders drop. "Maybe I also need a change of scenery."
"Buy a plant." sighed Eris at the sight of the stairs you were about to climb.
"Won't be needed," you sneered. "Turns out we're going to Demacia once the holidays are over, apparently."
"Demacia?" Eris exclaimed, "I'll need to make you a list of things to bring me back."
"Do I need to take a second suitcase if I'm going to bring everything back?" You asked.
"You'll need to pack a second suitcase so I can sneak in and come with you."
"How should I explain this to security?"
She shrugged, pressing her lips forward in a pout. "They'll just pass me off as a national treasure."
You chuckled, Eris smiling back before resuming.
"But weren't your exams supposed to be after the holidays?"
"That's the thing, I've already taken them."
She looked at you deeply confused.
"I know," you confirmed by the look on her face, "had a near death experience. Overworked myself."
"Nobody's surprised so far," Eris confirmed.
"Underslept," you went on.
"As always."
"Under ate."
Eris turned to you. "This is actually starting to border on dangerous."
"So I ended up very ill, passed out and spent a feverish night during which..."
You thought back to that morning, remembering the sunlight streaming through Viktor's hair, his fingers resting on your forehead before returning to his temple, his insistence that you get some rest.
"Which?" asked Eris awaiting the end of your sentence.
You swallowed, sniffling as your nose began to get damp from the cold. "During which Viktor stayed by my side to make sure I was okay."
She arched an eyebrow, a naughty little smile playing on her lips.
"And..." she said, her tone a little playful as you sensed what she was about to say, "are you sure the dislike is mutual?"
You sighed almost brutally. "Not you too."
"Who else theorises my way?"
"Who else but Selene?"
"Ah, the wisest woman alive," she exhaled. "Is he here during the holidays, Vik-tor?"
She deliberately lengthened the pronunciation of his name, making you roll your eyes. "Apparently, yes. Jayce and him are staying over in their apartment."
"Great, sounds like plan for us to meet them."
"You want to meet the number one cause that got me to almost shake hands with death?"
"He is also the number one cause that pulled you out of this situation which I suppose you got yourself into all on your own." She had a point, and you half-closed your mouth, but she just took the wind out of your sails. "Your clit has millions of nerve endings but it's still less sensitive than your ego."
Shocked by the stupidity of her sentence, you laughed nervously, her joining you in a fit of laughter.
"I'll know what to write in my presentation on Zaun's slang."
"I hope you'll give me proper credit."
"Of course I do. I just hope the teacher marking us doesn't put ‘verbal drip’ in the margin. I'd risk 15 years of psychotherapy just to be able to cherish the hope of recovering from that."
"The famous paper you're sharing with the charming Viktor."
"You call him charming when you haven't even seen him."
"What, isn't he charming?"
You thought back to the masquerade, his dark hair with strands falling lightly over his mask, his amber eyes highlighted with kohl piercing you as he sketched a smile that raised the mole on his cheek.
"I suppose by most standards he's not bad."
"Not bad. I suppose I'll see for myself."
"I will use your vocal cords as floss," you breathed once more as you continued on your way.
"Use one of Talis' hair instead, I'm sure it'll be cleaner than anything from Zaun."
"Leave Jayce out of this, poor guy has had enough of our constant bickering with Viktor for his entire life."
"You're already acting like an old couple," quipped Eris.
"I wish you the mumps," you grumbled, "but speaking of couples, Jayce is apparently dating none other than Mel Medarda."
She turned to you. "The counsellor?" She asked in confirmation.
"Yup, met her at the masquerade."
"How is she? Apart from breathtakingly gorgeous and perfect?" Questioned Eris.
"I don't like saying bad things about people, but she's actually nice," you replied.
"Hmm," she hummed. "Did you know that If given access to it, butterflies will happily drink blood?"
You turned to her, the change in conversation seeming strange. "Really."
"Yes," she continued, "they won't bite or harm other creatures to get it though. They are solely taking advantage of whatever foods are available in their environment. So most of those up above aren't too far off. Their beauty and supposed simplicity isn't everything, especially in a world as gilded and polished as Piltover's." Her eyes went to the golden tower of the council. "Do you think she's a butterfly?"
You now understood her reasoning. Sometimes you didn't always understand what she was trying to get across, unpredictable as she was. "I don't think she's much of a butterfly, I see her more like a dove in a golden cage."
"I don't have the material to be one of these birds, but if I was a bird..." began Eris, and you felt a déjà vu of conversation emerge following the end of your masquerade evening.
"What, you wish you could fly?"
"I know who I'd shit on."
You huffed. "Got a target in mind?"
"Not for now, but I guess you got yours?" She kept teasing you, and you knew you'd never get to the bottom of it.
"Apparently not any more, we're currently on a truce."
"A truce," she nodded once, dramatically.
"What does it consist of?"
"Fewer problems, more help, more opportunities, and..." you thought for a moment about Viktor's coat still lying in your dressing room, "less cold."
"Less cold?" She repeated.
"Mhm," you hummed as you finally reached the dormitory area.
"I think I'm going to like this Viktor," she confirmed.
"What, are you going to fall for his charms?"
"I'll leave this task to you, dearest trouble."
Eris had put her things in the bedroom, occupying Sky's bed, which would be free until the last weekend of the holidays. She knew the flat. During the times you'd had it to yourself when you weren't sharing it with anyone, she'd come and sleep there whenever she had the chance.
You couldn't count the number of times you'd both laughed there, the stupid things you'd done, or the number of heart-to-heart chats you'd had at three in the morning.
Despite Eris's many complaints, you took her to see Emmeline, who took her in her arms and, like a distant relative who talks about having changed our nappies when we were babies, kept telling her that she had changed.
With a few sweets offered, you returned to the dormitories, enjoying them while chatting about everything and anything. Her eyes inevitably fell on your tarot cards.
"Did you draw one every day?" She asked, stuffing another marzipan sweet into her mouth.
You swallowed your own mouthful, sucking the excess sugar off your fingers. "Apart from the few days I was too busy to study to do so, yeah."
She grabbed another sweet. "Did you do your reading this morning?"
"I thought that with you here we could get a better and proper reading, to see what I learned?"
"Oh you're a master of the art now?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
She wiped her fingers in a final gesture. "Let's go into the hall by the fireplace. Not that I don't like the flat, but being by a nice fire in a big armchair is much nicer."
And so, taking with you your own card deck, you headed down the hall.
Most of the students had left to return to their families, leaving the building virtually deserted for your own delight. All the armchairs and sofas were free, and it was only natural that you should sit down on the two sofas facing each other by the fire.
Eris placed the box and the small booklet of your deck on the varnished wooden coffee table separating the both of you, keeping the cards in her bare fingers covered with a few tattoos along their length. They weren't her only tattoos, of course. She had a few on her arms, ink under the skin being almost unavoidable in Zaun. They were covered, though, by the long sleeves of the jumper you'd lent her when she arrived.
It felt good to abandon the academy uniform for a moment and dress without restraint. Oversized shirts, oversized hoodies and oversized pants were the watchwords for your holiday clothes, in contrast to the Academy vest that clung to your body all the time.
"A general reading?" She questioned, kocking on the back and front of the deck.
"I guess," you breathed as you leaned over, elbow on your knees, "I just hope I don't end up with another tower again."
"Wasn't it for the best though?"
You thought back over the last few months, the constant torment hadn't been pleasant at all, but the achievements you'd made were undoubtedly a real step forward.
"Yeah," you half admitted.
Eris huffed, knowing full well that you wouldn't fully concede this fact even if it were scientifically proven. In a perfect, expert gesture, she spread out the line of cards.
"Just three cards right?"
"Just three cards, for now at least."
Just like two months ago, you repeated your gestures, letting your hand float over the cards like a storm cloud looking for the highest point to strike with its thunderbolt. Once the three cards had been drawn, Eris folded the clean cards back into a perfectly straight deck.
"Let's see what we're working with."
She turned over the first card. Four of Swords. The card was covered in grey, a surprise considering the rest of her deck's twins always sported a variety of colours.
"Good start." commented Eris before moving on to the second card.
Two of Wands, a man in a carmine cloak, was looking into the distance.
"Adds up," she confirmed before finally reaching the last card.
The Lovers.
Your eyes met Eris's, pressing her lips and eyes hard as she tried to stop herself from laughing.
"Whatever you're about to say, don't," you decided.
She had to take a deep breath to refocus and stop herself from giggling.
"I'm not the one who pulled the cards," she almost coughed as she grabbed the deck and looked at the shadow card. "Interesting."
"How interesting?"
She turned the deck towards you. "Interesting."
The Empress reigned under it.
You swallowed, thinking back to the Emperor card drawn for Viktor, your eyes drifting inevitably to the lovers card.
"Much more positive than our last draw, if I may say so."
You say nothing, simply sighing as you place one of your hands in the palm of the other. "Just start it."
She cleared her throat, putting the deck down again and letting the Empress reign over the top of the deck. She picked up the Four of Swords card.
"That's pretty much in line with what's been going on lately, and by that I mean relaxing."
"So I'm just... resting?"
"Not just resting, you're resting like a hero. Not everyone has their recumbent in a church. I take it the exams went well all things considered?"
"First place," you replied.
She pressed her lips into an inverted smile and shook her head. "So mediocre, I expected better than you."
You smiled at her sarcasm, you missed her teasing.
"In any case, you left a part of yourself there that was no longer useful, because to have a recumbent on your grave you have to be dead."
You thought back to the death card you'd drawn and Sky had read to you. The reaper had done his work so that with his sickle the weeds were cut down and new healthy plants grew there.
"In the stained glass window," she continued, "you can see two figures, one kneeling before the other. It's easy to see from this card that, through stability, it's peace that we're looking for - especially after experiencing pain - as opposed to the anguish of not being sure, of not even knowing if tomorrow there won't have been something that will have made us see everything differently."
The champagne hadn't betrayed you by making you agree to things you would otherwise have thought you'd never have said yes to.
"It was a situation of stagnation that you cut out," Eris pointed out, "values inculcated by parents or other authority figures that you had no use in following any longer, that you took on yourself without questioning them."
"So basically I was stupid?"
"Why are you saying this in the past tense?"
You giggled, "Shut up."
She smiled, continuing her explanation. "It was mostly a refusal to reconsider things; resentment or refusal to give a second chance. You stayed in that place that didn't suit you because you were already there, it was something you knew and there's nothing more reassuring than things you know - even if they hurt you." She reassured following your question. "It's a card that represents retirement, isolation, sleep and illness. An excellent moment of respite during which you can contemplate the past, learn from it and make peace with what you've been through."
‘’Right, enough about my past.‘’ You sighed, realising that the cards were obviously well aware of what had happened. "What about my future?"
"You're skipping a step here," she said as she put the card back down, taking the Two of Wands, "because before your future, there's your present."
"It's just a transition between past and future, present doesn't exist, there are only 2 times."
"There are four times," Eris pointed out. "Past," her fingers pointed at the Four of Swords as if she had a pistol, "present," she pressed them against the Two of Wands, "future," her fingers reached for the title of the Lovers, and just as you thought she'd be pointing at the Empress, she pointed one hand at the it while the other aimed her fingers at you, "and forever. It's a time too often forgotten since it's the only time we live entirely, but it truly exists."
You sighed, nodding at her lesson as she picked up the Two of Wands card.
"After the four, whose monotonous stability has taken us out of repetitive circles, the two is an encounter, but not just any encounter."
"Am I going to meet someone again?" You huffed, the prospect not thrilling you any more than that.
"Not necessarily. As you probably know from the tarot's classification of colours, the wands represent desire, the swords rule the realm of the mind, the cups are the emotions, and since there's nothing left in us after those three, what's left is the material, which is governed by the pentacles. What can desire encounter? Nothing but the world, against which it will have to measure itself if it wants to achieve."
"So I'm going to conquer Demacia, am I?" You leaned back, looking at the card. "That's still in the future, not the present."
"That's because Meeting plus Desire equals evaluation. You're evaluating in the present what's going to happen."
You understood the intriguing twists and turns of the multi-card tarot reading more and more. It was completely different from the simple one-card readings you used to do for yourself.
"The first thing desire does as it develops is confront reality." She brought both hands towards her, all her fingers together as she pointed at her shoulders. "I have my desire, I realise there's the world, so I wonder how I'm going to combine the two. It's evaluation time."
It was when Eris was working on the cards that you realised just how professional and educational she was. She was patient in spite of your useless remarks and knotted the lines of the cards together to make a clear and precise explanation.
"Behind the battlements," she continued, pointing to the symbols, "the man dominates the landscape: planning requires height and perspective. The globe in his hand," she pointed to the drawings one by one, "reminds us that the world belongs to him if he manages to combine his desire with reality. The village facing the ocean gives the idea of openness; the strategy in place allows us to open up our horizons. The blooming blasin that appears in the niche recalls the roses and lilies of the fool. Where the latter is in the thick of the action, the man on the Two of Wands is still observing. But in both cases, it's the same thing - which is it?"
You looked at the card, going over what Eris had explained to you. "Apply your will to the world."
She snapped her finger, pointing it at you. "Exactly. The whole point of these cards is that," she took the two cards in each of her hands to show them to you so that they faced each other, "where we've abandoned patterns that no longer interest us and that we followed blindly with the Four of Swords, the Two of Wands reminds us that now that a new world is open to us, it would be a good idea to evaluate it before you can forge your true will and apply it to the world around you."
She put the cards back down straight as she crossed her legs. "It's the evaluation of a project, a partner, an opportunity - gathering information, studying feasibility, a skills assessment or whatever to observe and ask ourselves if it's really what we want, and if it really corresponds to the expression of the need."
"Do the cards tell you all that?"
"I'm the card whisperer, haven't you confirmed that?" She designated her body, sweeping the air from her shoulders to her thigh.
"You do your readings to all your customers like this?"
"You're a very special client, I have to adapt to my audience," she said as she straightened, her eyes returning to the card. "It's also all about planning and preparing for a big trip, I hope Demacia will have a stoic enough stomach to digest you. In any case, you're asking yourself a lot of questions. Is it really what I want? Is it really possible to get what I want, given the circumstances and the means at my disposal?"
Were you ready to accept Viktor as a friend in your life? The last few months had worn you down so much that you were sincerely wondering how things were going to go. Would it be the same bickering every day? Would it be different? You still didn't know where you stood on the question, the map was right.
"Now," she rubbed her hands excitedly, "the future." She took the card in her hand, raising it to your eyes. "What do you see?"
You bent down, looking at the illustration. An angel filling the sky, a crown of leaves encircling its head, its carmine wings reaching down to a woman on the left and a man on the right, both naked. Your eyes returned to Eris', a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
"Please don't tell me it's about me and Viktor getting naked." You asked, your tone almost plaintive and asking for pity. Why did it always have to be about him?
She stretched her lips. "I'm not saying you and Viktor are going to get naked, but I definitely wanted to hear you say it."
You rolled your eyes, resting your chin on your palm.
"The lovers' card isn't necessarily to be taken literally, I thought with your immense sense of deduction you'd have come to that conclusion." She turned the card towards her. "The Lovers card is a card of choice. In the Original Tarot, it represents a, arrowed angel over a man hesitating between two women, one young and seductive and the other older and rather severe. It sometimes shows the crossroads between vice and virtue, with the idea that one should obviously choose virtue." She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Only, if you had to have virtue, it would be by discipline, so the Cupid on the old card would have no place there. The Tarot should help to better understand who we are; therefore, the card of choice should teach me how to make the right choice for myself, not for moral teachers."
She turned the card back to you. "The central character in the old cards hesitates because he has as many reasons to go one way as the other. It's easy to imagine that the older woman is wiser than the younger one, but the younger one is kinder than the older one..." she swung the card between her fingers like a pendulum. "But the older one is more experienced... and so on. So the message is clear: when it comes to making the right choice for me, reason isn't going to help me. Choosing your career on purely objective criteria is the best way to make yourself unhappy, because it's choosing what anyone should do, when you're not just anyone."
She held the card out to you like a mirror, the varnish on the thick glazed paper gleaming in the firelight.
"How do I make the right choice for me?" You asked, your eyes moving from the card to find hers.
“By turning to the only thing at your disposal that isn't commonplace, your sensibility.” She smiled. "When it comes to the choices that matter, reason can only lose us. So you have an essential tool for the journey ahead of you," she says, her free fingers resting on the Two of Wands. "To make the right choice, your reason knows it's useless on its own, so it turns to your sensibility, because it's connected to something higher, something that's never wrong."
Your eyes drifted over the silhouette of the man and woman.
"This is the path to harmony. We mustn't forget that it's just as valuable as the path to glory, although we're only bombarded with examples of the latter, because to be known, you have to surpass the others."
Your first place seemed more bitter than the sweetness it had brought you when you learned of your victory. Your cheeks warmed as you thought of all the comments your little family Eris and Selene made had suggested.
"And the lovers' card has no sentimental connection?"
She offered you a benevolent smile. "It's the card of love as the most obvious cry of affection. The card of mutual attraction, of the sentimental relationship, of the soul mate - becoming one. A balanced love relationship where one matchs the other, where the partners are complementary and in tune with each other as opposed to love at first sight which can leave us in shock like a certain arcane number sixteen you know all too well, burning sexuality like that of the wands and their insatiable desire, or illusory relationships."
The man and woman on the lovers' card weren't necessarily just opposites, they were mirrors of each other.
"It's a bit scary," you admitted.
"The veracity of the cards?"
"That, and..." you pointed quickly at the card, "them."
"Love is either sought after as the solution to all problems, or shunned like the plague. It's neither. There's nothing to be afraid of."
"Yeah well," you sighed, "can't help but be scared of something I never experienced."
You hadn't really had time to dwell on love affairs, so much so that until today you didn't have a single ex to your name. You had been so determined to achieve academic perfection that you had pushed any potential distraction out of your way. And now, with the possibility of a breakthrough on the horizon, you were terrified.
If love struck, would you be able to fight back?
"Let's not close any doors to the future," pointed Eris, laying down the lovers' card, “especially with a card like the one we have for the globality of this reading.”
She picked up the Empress card, presenting it to you again as if you were the artist's inspiration for this illustration.
"The Empress is the card of creation and fertility."
You recoiled slightly in surprise. "Please don't tell me that by some misfortune I'm going to get pregnant."
"It's not necessarily fertility in the literal sense, although that's part of it in certain specific cases," she cackled as her attention returned to the card. "It's the card of generation from within yourself. You have to have depth if you want to create, because to create is to bring something out of yourself. If the creative process is so mysterious, it's because it takes place in our deepest recesses. She is depicted in a sensual pose, creation being a matter of love and pleasure, as much in the flesh as in the intellect, because ideas germinate in the mind that conceives them."
You looked at the cards again, frowning.
"I see you're beginning to understand."
"So," you tried to summarise, "taking a step back from the situation and creating my own convictions is going to lead me to... fuck my way up to the top?"
Eris bobbed her head like one of those spring-loaded dolls, rolling her eyes at the sky. "Among other things." She put the card down, pointing as she had before at each symbol. "Three is a creation number, given that if you put 1+1 and turn off the light, it's through their power of generation, sexual, that they will become 3 by creating a child." She moved her finger. "The ball-shaped sceptre represents the total domination of the Empress of the Earth. Her crown extends her reign over the entire cycle of the year. The stars are six-pointed, the triangle forwards and backwards: her power is both material, nature, and spiritual, intelligence," she explained, her hands weighing the words our like a balance.
Your eyes drifted back to the Two of Wands, resting on the globe that man held.
"The eagle on the shield of the Original Tarot represents intelligence; this bird flies high and has a piercing gaze. However, its wing is still in its infancy. Its creativity has no other purpose than itself, so it can fly off in all directions without producing anything usable. The Emperor's eagle, on the other hand, will be complete because it will have added what the Empress lacks in order to master the whole process of the material world."
She exchanged a look with you. "She represents the creation of harmony from disordered elements so that the matter develops freely, like building a system or a plan. It's also femininity in full bloom, sensual, self-confident, seductive," she winked at you in an exaggerated way that made you smile. "It's about building a relationship with for mutual development, but not only that." She moistened her lips. "It's what you create out of yourself, the protector, the one who cares, who develops, who accompanies. The one who helps a company, a group or a project to grow."
She straightened up after this listing. "Something is born, brought into being, cultivated or made to believe: a vocation, possibilities. It's Abundance, and being ready to share its wealth with others, out of pleasure and love." She turned her eyes for a moment to the fire in the fireplace. "A simple ‘want’ is not enough to move the fixtures that business creation requires, nor is a desire rooted in selfishness or hatred, like doing something only to break someone else."
She described a loose, descriptive movement over the cards with her arm. "So the Empress represents the power of generation, naked creativity, cool. But there's something missing," she smiled, "someone who's very creative can give birth to a whole bunch of great ideas... without ever achieving anything, because they go off in all directions." She turned to the deck and the card the Empress was covering. "You need structure and discipline for that."
She grabbed the card, bringing it close to the Empress's, and your lips parted in shock.
“The Emperor will bring them both to us.”
The Emperor's card was there, its presence unchanged, its meaning weighing on your warming heart. She placed the last two cards on the table with an air of satisfaction. You looked at the deck for a moment, the cards interlocking. You took the Empress's card in your hand, hovering over every detail of ink and colour on it.
Was it really you? This charismatic, strong-willed being? Could you really become this, this abundant being?
"Wow," you breathed, setting the card down on the table as Eris picked up her sisters to put them away again and you slumped back on the sofa. "That's something."
"Yup," Eris confirmed.
You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment as your eyes drifted towards the fire, thinking about the huge bag of information and truths that Eris had just dumped on your thoughts and that you were probably going to be thinking about for a very long time. And yet one name kept lingering in your mind.
"Say," you asked, your eyes returning to her, "why do you all think that Viktor and I could be... something?"
She giggled, leaving the deck on the table before resting her elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting her cheek on her fist. "You're asking me that as my first question after this reading?"
You sighed, your knee jerking repeatedly as you lowered your eyes to the floor. "Just... answer the question."
She knew there were certain limits to bickering. "Well," she began, "from what I've been hearing from you, you truly respect him, as in the name at the top of your 'list of respect'. He practically saved your life when you were fighting against your own stubbornness, and..." she seemed to search for words for a moment. "I get the impression that he's the person you make the most effort to be accepted by in your entourage."
"And... on a deeper level?"
"On a deeper level, in my humble opinion as the heart sister and friend you've known the longest in your life, I get the impression that, subconsciously, you're seeking his approval. Because now that he's given you a taste of what it was like to lose on your own ground and made you realise how much it was destroying you, you're grateful to him even if you refuse to admit it, to others and to yourself." She watched you for a moment, circling you under her skilful, sharp gaze. "I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others. And that scares you," she shook her head, "but I honestly think the fact that he's come into your life is the best thing that's happened to you in a long time."
That's what you liked about Eris, her honesty. She didn't care about hurting people's feelings or exposing them raw to the eyes of all, time was too short for pointless little lies, and she realised the truth of that very early on.
And you weren't offended, but you felt stripped bare by her words. That was probably what frightened you, finding yourself and the truth shining through for everyone to see. That was probably why the lovers were undressed. They saw each other stripped of all lies, hearts open as they created harmony.
Only two people knew you completely, the two members of your family. But that you could find someone who wasn't part of this circle and who saw all these things in you and accepted them no matter what, to lead you towards the best? It was new, and there's nothing more terrifying than the new. But surely, that was the lesson of the cards.
Yet your train of thought was interrupted when two figures you recognised all too well entered the hall.
"I think " you croaked, Eris following your gaze and turning towards them.
Jayce and Viktor, in casual clothes, were approaching you.
Eris turned back to you, shocked and shaking her head. "Is that what you call not bad?!" she almost shouted in her whisper.
You shrugged your shoulders and shook your hands. "I said by most standards!"
"I'm going to end up having heart attacks if your judgement's this poor."
"Hey there!" called Jayce as he approached. "Didn't think I'd find you here."
He wore a charming smile, dressed in a chunky cream hoodie and brown jogging bottoms. You'd already described to Eris what Jayce looked like, bringing back one of the class photos from your year so she could really see him.
Viktor, on the other hand, was wearing a brown turtleneck covered by a black cardigan, as were his wide pleated plaid trousers. He was frowning, his eyes shifting from you to Eris in confusion.
Eris turned to you, waiting for you to make the introductions.
"Jayce, Viktor," you pointed at Eris, "this is Eris. My sister."
"Pleased to meet you, Jayce," the latter smiled, extending his hand to shake hers as Eris stood up.
"Eris," she replied as Jayce gave way to his sidekick.
"Viktor," he said, squeezing her hand.
"I know," Eris smiled proudly as she turned her gaze back to you, "I've heard a lot about you."
You pressed your tongue lightly against the inside of your mouth as you laughed tiredly. Of course, now that he was here, she was going to be as playful as could be.
"Really?" Said Viktor, surprised as he turned to you.
"Absolutely," Eris replied.
"You never mentioned Eris was your sister," Jayce remarked.
"Best friend, sister, it's the same thing to me," you ranswered simply.
"Is that a Tarot deck I see here?" remarked Viktor.
Jayce riveted his eyes on the object. "You guys were playing?" he asked curiously.
"Eris was giving me a reading for the times ahead and other advice," you corrected.
"I'm a professional reader," she confirmed, "that's my job."
"How does that work?" asked Jayce, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of discovering something new.
"I can do a reading for you if it's okay with your schedule?" she suggested.
"Oh, we're just here to read and chat by the fire, nothing will be disturbed." Viktor assured her, resting his eyes on yours.
"All right then, let's go," she said, grabbing the deck.
Without missing a beat, Jayce took his place on the sofa where Eris was sitting. Viktor exchanged a glance with you, and you shrugged your shoulders and pointed to the seat next to you. Eris's words echoed as the leather slumped not far from you and Viktor placed his cane against the table.
"Alright, let me explain," began Eris as she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her tattoos.
Jayce seemed blown away by them, and you could feel his lips burning with the famous ‘did these hurt?’ which he never dared to say.
"I'm going to shuffle the cards so they're well mixed, then I'm going to...’’
But the conversation slowly faded into the background when Viktor spoke to you.
"I didn't think you'd dress like this on the daily," his voice was low, obviously not wishing to disturb the explanation to Jayce who seemed far too excited for this activity.
"What, you thought I slept in my uniform or something?" you questioned back.
He shrugged. "A bit."
You couldn't help but crack a smile before redirecting your gaze to Eris, looking at you both with a knowing glance.
Your smile faded as you straightened up, curious to see what Jayce would come up with.
"So all I have to do is take three cards?" He asked again.
"Yes," confirmed Eris.
"And can I show them or not?"
"Jayce, it's not a magic trick," informed Viktor.
Jayce turned to you, apparently waiting for your opinion too.
"Just pick three cards Jayce, the ones that call to you the most," you replied, resting your cheek on your fist.
"How do I know if they're calling me?" He questioned.
Viktor was already bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as Eris explained again. "Just take the cards you wish to take."
He straightened. "There are no traps are there?"
You and Viktor sighed in unison as you just urged him to take his damned cards.
"Alright alright fine," sighed the latter, raising his hands in the air, "left hand, right?" He asked to Eris.
"Yes," confirmed the witch.
"Right, off I go."
You exchanged glances with Viktor, both of you rolling your eyes as Jayce finally picked up his first card.
"Where do you want me to put it?"
"Anywhere," laughed Eris. "Jayce, you can't make any mistakes with tarot, you know that, right?"
‘’Right,‘’ he nodded, placing the first card in front of him above the card line.
The ace of Pentacle arrived on the table.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Jayce asked immediately.
"That depends on what you draw next," laughed Eris, ‘just keep pulling.’’
Jayce then drew the eight of pentacles, immediately turning to Eris to gauge her reaction as she looked at him with eyes that said ‘you know what I'm going to say’.
He then drew his last card, the nine of cups.
"Okay," smiled Eris as she picked up the rest of the cards and gathered them into a compact pile, turning it over and smiling at Jayce.
"Is it good?" He asked, turning to you and Viktor.
"It's horrible," you breathed.
His face decomposed. "Is it?"
"No, I just said that to tease you, you've got a good game," you turned to Eris, ‘’right?"
She giggled, uncovering the sun like shadow card.
"It's splendid, my dears."
Joy returned to Jayce's face like a dog presented with a bone. Viktor propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers as he watched the set.
"Well," began Eris, clearing her throat, "I'm going to proceed as I usually do with my dear inexterminable microbe here and make a simple reading. One card for the past," she rested her fingers on the Ace of Pentacles, “one for the present,” on the Eight of Pentacles, “one for the future,” on the Nine of Cups, “and one card that will give the overall colour to the spread and potentially give us some advice.”
"Okay," Jayce replied, eager to hear what she had to say.
"First of all, we have the Ace of Pentacles. The Ace is used to place us in the field we're going to work in; for this one it's the material field, and this one is fraught with possibilities."
She took the card in her hand and turned to an angle where you could all see the card.
"The divine hand emerging from the clouds reminds us that the material realm, like the others, is a given; it's up to us to do something with it. A garden of lilies is traversed by an alley that passes under an arch, flowered with roses and leading to the mountains. Thought is born of matter and, in any case, you can't rise without the necessary material foundations. As for the pentacle, it's a sign of protection - upright, it's a representation of man with his head, or spirituality and consciousness, at the top and his two feet at the bottom, anchored in the earth. That's the attitude you need if you want to prosper in and with the world."
"Am I in the right inclination?" Asked Jayce.
"Absolutely," reassured Eris. "Now that we know all these elements, how can this help us? Well, the Ace of Pentacles represents a material opportunity, something to be developed in the concrete domain. It's the birth of a new interest or a new energy in the material and financial spheres. Didn't you have a career change last summer or something like that?"
‘’Yes,‘’ Jayce exclaimed, ‘’how do you know?" He turned to you. "Did you talk to her about it?"
"Talked about what?" You said with a shrug. "I'd only told her about the explosion in your flat and my concerns about your trial, that's all."
He seemed to soften at the word "concern".
"In any case," continued Eris, "the Ace of Pentacles often represents a job offer and the possibility of professional advancement. It's synonymous with a new project, and sometimes an influx of money from an unforeseen or unexpected source.’
You thought back to the few bills he had given you without any difficulty so that you could purchase a dress.
"That's incredible," he mumbled, all surprised, "don't you think Vik?"
"Yes," he admitted, "but I'm waiting to see the whole result.’
"Let's move on to the present, the Eight of Pentacles." She put down the Ace to take the next card. "We remain in the realm of the material and following the financial influx that the Ace of Pentacles was able to bring, there is the expression of the free with the eight and the lemniscate for its infinity. We have the talent, the materials, the knowledge and the ability to concentrate, so we can produce without hindrance."
Jayce seemed to be hanging on her every word, while Viktor seemed increasingly interested and methodically observant.
Eris's slender finger traced along the card. ‘The Pentacles are neatly lined up on the fully-covered beam and spill out onto the floor, and the craftsman has so many of them that he doesn't know where to put them. The bench can be seen as a representation of the skills he can rely on. The small village behind could mean that the craftsman can devote himself freely to his work because he knows that the other members of society will provide for his other needs." So she turned to Jayce. "I suppose living here in such a small flat can't be very practical for carrying out your projects, is your apartment still being refurbished?"
Jayce looked at her with wide eyes, turning to Viktor who maintained an inflexible phlegm, but you knew him well enough by now to recognise that he was intrigued by this discussion.
"How do you know that-"
"I don't know anything," smiled Eris, "I just read the cards and follow my intuition which, luckily, is rarely wrong."
"Well, that's just it," Jayce breathed, turning to you, "I got the go-ahead yesterday to move back into the flat."
You straightened. "You're moving out?"
"We're moving out," Viktor corrected.
The news, strangely enough, fell on you like a weight. Your eyes darted back and forth between Viktor and Jayce.
"When are you leaving?" you asked.
"Tomorrow morning," Jayce replied. "We finished packing up a few things today. We were going to come and see you later to tell you the news but," he smiled, "you were already here."
You turned to Viktor, who lowered his eyes. 'Just here to read and chat by the fire,' as he'd said. Why hadn't he just said they wanted to talk to you? Why did he change the subject?
You should have been relieved, to finally be rid of him on a daily basis, but you couldn't.
"What about the future?" asked Jayce as he turned back to the deck. "What's announced?"
You tried to digest the information as quickly as he had, but it was simply impossible. You forced yourself to, letting Eris resume her explanation as your heart seemed to weigh its weight down your throat.
"The Nine of Cups is pure and simple satisfaction. The Nine is the very last single-digit number, so it's an achievement. But the Nine is still an accomplishment in the weakest sense of the word, because it shows us what it's like when you see something through to the end - you don't go beyond anything, you just achieve it and that's all there is to it. For cups, it's 'filling the feeling of lack to the end, to the point of satisfaction’." She pinched the card between her two fingers, twisting it back and forth. "It's wish fulfillment, getting what you want. It's not having to ask anymore, it's one partner always there for the other no matter what, and the other counting on it."
Eris's eyes moved from Viktor to Jayce with a gentle glance.
"And the sun assures us of this with its warm presence. It brings self-confidence, the ability to assert oneself with kindness and to share happiness and the joy of life." She put the card down again, bringing the reading to a close. ‘I don't know what you're working on, but I hope it's something good for the world.’
Jayce exchanged a knowing smile with Viktor, who always returned it with mischief in his eyes.
"Well, that's really surprising!" Jayce exclaimed. "It's so right... I didn't know you could deduce all those things from cards."
"There's nothing random about arcane blades," asserted Eris. She turned to Viktor. "Would you like one too?"
He seemed taken by surprise, parting his lips and lifting his chin with his hands as his eyes moved from Jayce, to Eris, to you.
"I," he cleared his throat, "I don't know if this thing is really for me."
Viktor? Hesitating? that was definitely new.
"What," you chuckled as you turned to him, "scared the cards are going to be bad?"
"I'm not particularly fond of the idea that they could be right and doom me to think that i am doomed." Viktor explained. "What if they are bad?"
"What if they're not?" You suggested with a shrugged smile.
He considered you for a moment. "Haven't you ever regretted one of the readings Miss Eris here made for you?"
You sighed heavily. "It's sometimes painful," you returned Eris's gaze for a moment, she wore an infectious smirk that wasted no time in stretching your own lips to the side, "I have a very distinct one in mind that I deeply disliked. But..." you looked back at Viktor, "the cards were right, and for the better. Believe me."
He remained motionless for a moment, finally nodding.
"Alright," he nodded, turning to Eris who was already shuffling the cards.
She made a perfect line of cards, and Viktor moved his left hand forward to take his first card.
The Ace of Swords.
Viktor drew a second, and you frowned.
The Knight of Pentacles. Your tarot was a real player when it came to pulling out cards apparently.
"Him again," you breathed.
"What do you mean again?" questioned Eris.
"I'll explain some other time."
"And the last one?" Asked Eris as Viktor picked up another card.
Page of Cups.
Having two aces as first cards for both acolytes was interesting.
"Intriguing," admitted Eris as she collected the cards into a single deck to observe the shadow card.
Her eyes landed on you, stunned. You could feel what was about to happen.
"No," you breathed, "not him."
"Yes," confirmed Eris, "him."
Eris then held up the Emperor's card, and you brought your fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose.
"That bad?" Inquired Viktor, surprised.
"No, it's not bad." You laughed to yourself for a moment, turning your gaze to his. "The cards are just very playful, that's all."
Eris set the deck down on the table, the Emperor facing Viktor.
"I suppose you met this Emperor in another reading?" he suggested.
You moistened your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Not just that."
Eris laughed with her nose, catching herself as she straightened up.
"One day," you said to Viktor, "I'll explain the whys and wherefores, don't worry."
He nodded weakly, turning to Eris. He seemed a little nervous, and you were discovering this phenomenon in him. He could be tense, but nervous?
"To begin with, then, the Ace of Swords, like the Ace of Pentacles, is a possibility, a spark that hasn't yet produced anything, but which puts us in the right field. The crown indicates that intelligence is the queen faculty. The palm on the right and the laurel branch on the left are symbols of victory."
Viktor like victory, of course.
"Intelligence is the highest of our faculties, enabling us to rise to the highest heights; it is what makes us a thinking creature. As for the mountains, they represent elevation, the sometimes arid and cold summits of thought. It's a card that represents intelligence and the fact that you can count on it in any situation."
Viktor turned to you, smiling. "You'd rather have that card for yourself than for me, wouldn't you?"
You chuckled. "Maybe once, but now I'm leaving it to you."
He seemed surprised by your answer for a moment, pressing his lips together for a second as he turned back to Eris who was changing cards.
"Now it's the Knight of Pentacles' turn. He represents reliability. He's down to earth, he does what needs to be done without question. This is the card of routine. In terms of symbols, on his helmet and in the horse's ears, there are oak leaves to remind us of what is rooted, powerful and takes time. The soil has furrows in it, so it's about being rooted to the earth, about regular, long, cyclical work like farming, where you have to show stamina and well-applied physical strength.’
"My perfect picture, I am the very definition of athleticism while my colleague Jayce Talis the skinny watches me do my thing in my corner," Viktor joked as he retrieved his cane in hand.
"Don't put the blame on me," interjected Jayce, "I offered to train at least your upper body when you sometimes come with me to the forge."
Viktor rolled his eyes, waiting for the rest of what Eris had to say.
"In any case, the Knight of Pentacles is the definition of moving slowly but surely, with methods that may not be original, but are tried and tested. It's a knight slow to anger who won't take the first step without being reassured of the other's intentions. If there is to be a meeting, it must take time to develop into a solid friendship before it is possible to move on to something more."
Viktor seemed to be playing with his cane, but was listening carefully to what Eris had to say. You remembered the day you read the information on the Knight of Pentacles' card. Physical and sensual. You began to blame the fire in the fireplace for the heat that was rising in your cheeks.
"Now let's move on to our last blade, the Page of Cups." She picked up the card in question. "The Page of Cups discovers, so in the emotional frame of the Cups, he discovers an idea. We welcome new information; we examine a way of thinking or a way of relating facts, of news that affects us."
Again she began to point to the various symbols one by one as you bent to see them better.
"The little fish swimming in the cup, to which the Page gives a sympathetic ear, represents the little voice of intuition, that elusive mystery that lives in our depths and sometimes comes to speak to us. The water lily flowers on his shirt can refer to sleep and the messages of dreams, as well as to the sacred nature of sensitivity that takes root in the depths. On all the cut figures, the water represents the changing and fluid nature of emotions, as well as their depth."
She placed the card on the table. "This is the card of announcement, of wonder, of joy, of something that touches. I should point out that it's still a card that's recognised as being very romantic, but not only that. It's the card of love, but it's also the card of a new friendship, the one that makes you discover that you really care about someone."
You bit the inside of your lips, the heat spreading from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, which you covered with your hand, a ghostly memory of Viktor's breath washing over you.
"At last," Eris grasped the Emperor's card, "the card of stability and anchoring that is the Emperor represents you here."
"Me? The Emperor?" Repeated Viktor, pointing his finger at himself.
"Yes," you said under your breath.
He turned to you for a moment, and you knew full well that when he found the time to discuss it with you, he wouldn't miss the opportunity.
"The Emperor completes the Empress's teaching by introducing the idea of rule, law and structure. Discipline doesn't mean giving in to the first distraction. He is a man who teaches us to take responsibility without deviating, to defend our principles without failing, to be obedient without letting ourselves be influenced. That's where his authority comes from - this lucid examination, it's the foundation that makes us sure, and allows us to act without wavering." She then placed the card back on the deck, closing the reading.
You had a feeling that Viktor wouldn't be the only one thinking about this reading. The cards reflected each other so perfectly it was impressive.
"Any questions?" Eris asked simply as she gathered up the cards and put them back in the box.
"How long have you been practising," Jayce asked, turning to her.
"I'd say... seven years?" She said, turning to you to make sure she was right.
"And a half," you added as she handed you the box of your tarot.
"Is this yours?" Asked Viktor.
"Yes, I draw one every morning to see what the day has in store or for advice," you explained.
Viktor turned to Eris and said, "Where do you practise?"
"In one of the streets on the entresol level."
"Could I have the address?"
She seemed as surprised as you, glancing at you then back to Viktor. "An interest in spirituality?"
He exchanged a look with you. "Now yes."
After giving her shop address to Viktor, he and Jayce excused themselves and left to make sure all the boxes and other luggage were ready for the next day's departure.
You and Eris were back upstairs, you preparing the evening meal while she rushed to the shower to warm up from the absence of the fire she already missed so much.
You couldn't stop thinking about Viktor, about the changes, the ideas swarming around in your mind without ever finding respite or giving you any. You felt that the fact that he would no longer be in the building tomorrow gave you the impression that his absence would force you to think only of him.
But another subject was about to hit you, bitter, fearsome.
Eris stepped out of the shower, droplets of water beading from her hair and running down her tattooed arms. She crossed her arms seriously, pressing her shoulder against the doorframe as she crossed her leg.
"Do you remember my letter, when I mentioned there was something I needed to talk to you about?"
You stirred the forest pan over the stove, not looking away from the task as you expected mere gossip in the rising streets of Zaun. "Mhm?"
She sighed, watching you sternly.
"The child disappearances have started up again."
You froze in your tracks, the sound of the hood and the oil cooking the vegetables fading into a distant blur of sound.
You turned to Eris, almost trying to get her to repeat what she'd just said, as if she'd just resurrected an entire graveyard. "What?"
"Not just in Zaun," she continued, just as austerely, "I've had customers from Piltover. It's starting here too. It's very small and tiny as a disappearance compared to Zaun, but it's still there."
"Are you absolutely sure?" you asked, registering this information almost robotically.
She nodded. "When Renata Glasc came into my shop and I made her reader, she said his name."
You huffed, as if someone had just punched you in the stomach and expelled all the air your lungs held.
"Is the situation under hand?"
"Glasc is on it from what I know."
You huffed with difficulty. "Could you um..." you felt your throat tighten, "could you continue cooking? I'm think I need a shower.
She smiled at you, a thin, empathetic one. "Take all the time you need."
"Thank you," you barely managed to say before moving towards the bathroom and carefully closing the door behind you.
Silently, with hasty movements as if all your clothes were ten times too hot on your skin, you got rid of each layer at record speed and turned on the water.
Your whole body was shaking like a leaf, your breath coming fast as you passed under the hot spray. Your eyes clouded over in a blur of tears, your whole face tensing, your brow furrowing as your nose scrunched up and your lips curled. You drew a huge, rapid, jerky breath, anger and despair contorting every feature of your face until your forehead ached as your hands ran over them as if trying to erase it, to dilute it under the shower water until everything was smooth and clean and you were pure again.
Your back jolted despite the warmth of the water running down your spine, the sobs attacking you as you placed one hand on the wall to keep yourself upright while the second pressed against your mouth to prevent any sound escaping from the prison bars of your fingers.
You only gave yourself a few moments to cry before letting the salt on your cheeks be washed away by the clear water of Piltover and turning off the shower. You didn't want to abuse it, even if all the drops it could have spilled down your body would never have been enough to bring the rain that would wash away the past!
Today had been too full changes, of emotions, of movements and unpredictable things that weighed on your mind like an elephant.
When you got out of the shower, Eris had already prepared the table and served your two plates.
"You know," she said with her mouth full, raising her fork in the air, "it's a bit hard to tell how you and Viktor stand."
You were still relieved at Eris's understanding. She had seen you cry very little over the years, the habit of choosing the excuse of the shower to have a moment when your sensitivity could take over and go beyond the limit of your eyes having come early in your friendship. And when you came back, she always had a different subject to discuss to take your mind off things.
With a tired smile, you took the chair opposite her and sat down.
"What do you mean?"
She took care to chew her mouthful to the end, winding her index finger in the air to ask you to wait. "Well," she finally swallowed, "I saw you staring at each other. I just can't be certain if it was sexual tension or murderous rage."
You let out a small laugh, your eyes still stinging from your tears and wrinkling with admiration for her.
The evening continued on a variety of topics, with countless teases about Viktor, who seemed to be burning a hole in her lip.
And when you both went to bed to find respite, the walk in the cold having knocked Eris out with sleep, yours didn't come. The cards all came back into your head like emblematic figures from a distant story, a fairy tale with final lessons for little children.
You thought of the Empress and the Emperor. You thought of yourself, of Viktor.
The same warm palpitations in your heart and stomach returned as you thought of him. You brought one to the one, the second to the other, like a stethoscope trying to discern any worries or disturbances.
It was warm, sweet, it was a hope that sprang up in your soul and filled you completely.
Did the Empress have a metaphorical womb pregnant with a budding love, ready to grow?
You thought back to Eris's words.
I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others.
Was it the warmth that sprang up deep inside you, like a candle in the darkness of a cavern containing thousands of crystals ready to sparkle, that he brought out?
When morning came, you had given up on the idea of sleeping and sat on your windowsill to watch the sun emerge in the distance.
You had thought for so long in the silence of this room that the inside of your body was a constant echo of thoughts reverberating against the walls of your skin and every corner of your mind. The sun was the first to say hello, and you smiled at it as it caressed your cheek with its warmth.
You'd fought with it so much that it had made your cheeks red. And you wanted to catch him, to hold him close to your chest so that he could feel the warmth of your heart, so much so that the night fell away. And now that you'd got to know the moon thanks to him, you told yourself that you'd just put everything out like a poor cigarette. But we're talking about the moon, and the sun, that's not nothing.
His reality had made the wheat grow, and the truth had made men eat, but reality was coming towards you little by little with a flag, staggering.
Down below, approaching the building in the soft silence of the morning and the waking city, a van pulled up.
The day was here, and you wanted to bury it in a suitcase to let the night stay a little longer, to keep the moonlight on your skin and in the glow of your eyes.
Your gaze turned away from the truck for a moment, back to the dressing room. The coat.
In the greatest of hasty silences, you pulled on a heavy jumper, trotting on tiptoe to the dressing room to pick up the coat that still had his smell on it. You gently turned the key to the apartment, moving from the silence of the bedroom to that of the corridor bathed in half-light.
You hurried down the stairs, praying that the van hadn't left, that they hadn't left, and that you'd be able to say ‘see you soon’.
When you got downstairs, Viktor was standing in front of the entrance, just beyond the door, outside, with his back to you.
You inhaled, trying to hide your miserable gasping breath deep in your chest.
You were moving forward, feeling cold. The coat could have given you that warmth, but you didn't put it on. Your hand came to rest on the handle of the golden door, and you pushed it open despite the trembling you presumed to be due to the fatigue of a sleepless night.
Viktor turned and his eyes fell on you. His expression wasn't wide with surprise, and his eyebrows weren't furrowed, but you could feel a flicker of regret on his face that was swept away as soon as he realised it was you.
The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the stillness of the morning making you both feel as if the whole town would wake up at once if you spoke.
"Hey," you managed to say softly.
He gave a surprised little smile. "Hey."
You breathed in, swallowing as you tried to work out if all the ideas you'd been fed about him wanted to come back through your throat.
"So uh," you jerked your chin towards the van, "you're all set to go ?
Miserable small talk.
Viktor looked at you calmly. ‘The removal man is still inside picking up the rest of the boxes."
"Oh," you nodded, "Jayce isn't with you?"
"He's gone to the flat to settle the last few things that needed his attention."
His eyes never left you, his face a peaceful, unchanged emotion. It feels like a dream, you thought, but it's not, and that's probably the most reassuring thing about it.
You tightened your grip on the coat slightly, and finally let the breath you'd been holding expel itself from your lungs.
"You're fierce as my rival," you admitted, "but I think I prefer you better when you're not."
Viktor remained motionless for a moment, the light breeze in the air combing a few strands of his hair. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, barely rising.
"What good is a truce if we're not rivals anymore, then?" he asked.
"The truce can just turn into a deal," you suggested almost hastily, "a friends' deal."
He smiled at last, and your stomach warmed in the dead of winter.
"Friends," he repeated as if testing the taste the word had in his mouth, "I like the sound of that."
You smiled back, and relief washed over you.
He changed the grip on his cane, straightening up. "Any clauses you want to add to the truce, Miss?"
You couldn't help asking. "Why do you call me Miss all the time?"
His eyes remained serenely in yours, silently letting a moment pass.
"I can't say yet. Someday, maybe," he replied as if he'd just come back from somewhere else.
You nodded. "Alright." You straightened your back and cleared your throat before raising your eyebrows. "I just have one clause then."
"Go on," he nodded, curious.
A satisfied smirk spread across your face. "All your coffees are free if you come by the Brown Bitt, so you better come often with such an offer."
He laughed softly, his eyes dropping to his shoes for a moment before returning to yours.
"I'd be a fool to refuse such a discount."
"Well," you shrugged, "there is some kind of dignity being the first fool of the academy."
"Last time I checked," he said, raising an eyebrow, "you're the first of the Academy."
"Last time I checked with Eris, one and two together make the three of creativity." You smiled. "What did Heimerdinger say again? About us joining our forces for the presentation."
Viktor sighed, starting to recite. "There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class - you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly. None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you."
"Teamwork," you both pronounced, nodding and smiling.
"You remember it so vividly," you grinned, impressed.
He nodded. "Eh, better have a sharp memory and wit to follow with Heimerdinger, if you can't race."
Your lips parted, remembering a little too well the first day we worked together. "Please tell me Jayce never heard of this."
"I recite your words to him every night before sleeping like a prayer," he sneered.
Another moment of silence passed, both your breaths billowing in the air.
"When we'll all be settled," he finally said, "come to the flat."
You clasped your hands together. "Is that a challenge?"
"No," he chuckled, "just an invitation."
‘"As long as you don't organise masquerades in Jayce's apartment every other night, I will."
"Nah," he admitted as the wrinkles in his nose crinkled for a moment, "we keep that outside our explosive apartment."
It was refreshing to be able to listen to Viktor's comments and not find annoyance in them, just laughter.
"Speaking of masquerades," you realised as you handed him his perfectly smooth coat, "I took care of it."
His leather-gloved fingers closed over the dark fabric.
"I'm sure you did," he said, his eyes moving from the fabric to yours.
Behind you, you heard the distinct sound of castors on the floor of the hall, and turned towards the man dragging a trolley with a few boxes piled on it.
"All clean," he warned as he passed you both and began to stack the boxes in the back of the vehicle.
He quickly closed the boot and climbed into the front seat next to the steering wheel.
"See you to the demacia boarding airship?" asked Viktor.
You smiled. "Don't be late."
He gave you one last smile.
"No chance."
✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter
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GOOD FOR THE HEART
country! vi x reader fluff, angst, smut (18+), slow(?)burn, wc. 13.6k
synopsis: an intimate bond forms between an ill farmer's daughter, desperate for a taste of the outside world, and the helpful part-timing cowgirl at the farm. OR vi wants you bad, and what better way to get to know you than sneak you around town?
content warnings: illness, NOT read over, foul language, smut so mdni/18+, fingering r!receiving, controlling parent, health worries, fainting, slight insecurity, emotional rollercoaster but a fun one!!
soundtrack: my girl (the temptations) | our love (curtis harding + jazmine sullivan) | | we’ll never have sex (leith ross) | pillow (malcolm todd) | close to you (carpenters) | not a lot, just forever (adrianne lenker) | cool about it (boygenius) | pancakes for dinner (lizzy mcalpine)(this sounds sm like vi to me) | kiss me (sixpence none the richer) | i bet on losing dogs (mitski) aftercare (listen post-fic): sienna (the marias)
Vi could strip naked right here, right now.
And with her well known spontaneous personality, she would. Especially under the hundred degree heat that preys upon her and forces the girl’s freckled skin to glisten. But a: she’s with her siblings (enough said), and b: she’s working outdoors at the Laurier’s farm. Meaning only a handful of yards away, tucked in that blue, yellow, and white idyllic house covered with blooming botanical life, stands Mr. Laurier’s orphic daughter.
That’s all Violet’s ever heard about you, from children playing on the street to adults roaming the town shops. Ever since her adoptive father suggested she take this summer job before she goes back to focusing on her college work. Ever since her siblings and family friend jumped to tag along after Mr. Laurier decided ‘the more the merrier’.
All that’s been filling Violet Lane's ears is information about you, or, the lack thereof. How you’re always locked up in that big residence. How you used to roam the town just like any other little rascal until five years ago, at the age of thirteen, when something out of her knowledge occurred. How stunning you look in a sundress. She tried to block that one out.
“Why is it that Mylo’s drivin’ the tractor and not me?” Powder complains, pulling her clenched hand from the bag of chicken feed and tossing it on the ground for the horde to gobble.
“Last time you tried to drive something I started praying.” Ekko throws out. His bun shaped hair bobbles as he finally pulls that one stubborn carrot from the ground and places it in the basket.
“Besides Pow,” Violet starts, lifting a heavy brown box onto her shoulder and cradling it with just one arm. “You’re doin’ fine taking care of the animals. Mylo would be scaring them to death.” The pink haired girl sighed out, looking around.
Her gaze landed on the decorated porch, and she pursued. Vi set the last of the boxes down with a soft grunt before straightening her back and lifting her arms, clasped at the fingers, over her head to get a well-deserved stretch.
The worker’s completely regretting her chosen position as the door swings open, and she looks heaven right in the eyes.
You stand there in a white lace sundress covered in a juicy red pattern of cherries, a smile sweet enough to give a sugar high plastered on your stunning face. Vi’s gaze flickers down to your feet covered by red country boots. Above those are your soft looking hands holding a gift basket. When she’s done examining you, her blue-gray eyes trail their way back to yours– and it’s like whiplash. Once again, she’s blinded by those pearly whites and the tasty perfume radiating off of you. God help me, is the only phrase filling her mind because damn you’re ethereal.
“Hi there, cowgirl.” You’re going to send Vi into cardiac arrest with just your voice. Thankfully, she realizes she needs to respond, and quickly wipes the dopey grin (that she wasn’t aware she had) off of her face.
It’s not like everything is peaches and cream on your end. The girl’s tight white t-shirt is grasping onto her glistening biceps, her pretty bright eyes and the freckles that decorate her nose make her look blessed by the sun, and seeing such a beautiful yet handsome woman in a cowboy hat is doing foreign things to your stomach. ‘Wow’, is all your wandering mind formulates.
“Hi there, miss Laurier,” she copies you in her lower voice, and you notice the slit on her lip as it curls up into a soft smirk. You shake your head at her words with a polite smile, insisting she call you by your name, which you offer up. She repeats it once perfectly, claiming it ‘rolls right off the tongue’, and you crack a smile.
“My father informed me that you’re the new help around here for the summer, so I decided to bake somethin’ for the five of you.” You’re sticking out the basket, decorated with a pink bow on top, for Vi to take. She does and quickly takes a peek inside. Five snickerdoodle cookies and one large cherry pie. You do stay on theme, and so, it starts.
“Thank you, cherry.” she cracks a smile that sends a shock down your body, and gently tips her hat.
Fourteen searing days pass on that farm, days filled with laughter, hard work, and the smell of life from the surrounding plants.
But not for you.
For each of those fourteen days, for the past one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days, you’ve sat sideways in your window with your back against one side and your legs propped up on the wood. You read, journaled, book pressed flowers (that you had to sneak out front to get), took much needed resting breaks, tended to your pet lamb Daisy, and watched Footloose. Your sock-covered feet subtly shuffled side to side as if you were mimicking their dance moves in your head.
Vi watched as you sat there all those days in your open window. Half of your body out in the fresh air and half cooped back up inside like the past five years of your life. It was as if you yearned to experience life completely outside the window, but you couldn’t. And so, you completed your daily activities the furthest away you could get.
Until your eighteenth birthday came along.
“Lord, can you focus instead of stalking your ‘cherry’,” Ekko mimics the pinkett’s voice with the last two words, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Bet she wants to pop her cherry.” Mylo snickers at his own joke, earning a slap to the nape from Claggor.
“Last warning Mylo. Don’t talk about her like that.” she replies firmly, furrowed brows making a little scowl.
Claggor shakes his head softly, letting the tension between his siblings diffuse before speaking. “You know, you should do something other than just stare at her all day. It’s getting sad.”
“Like?” the cowgirl responds with crossed arms.
“Ask her to hang out, obviously.” Powder pipes up, petting a sheep as she prepares to guide it inside the barn. “She’s always lookin’ so lonely. Swear the only time she smiled this past week was when you complimented her on those blackberry muffins she baked us.”
“You know she’s not supposed to come out, Laurier said so. Pretty sure that’s why she stays upstairs, can’t even come out on the porch when we’re here no more.” Violet huffs.
“You think he thinks we’re a bad influence on her?” Ekko ask in confusion. Because truth be told, no one knew why you stayed locked up in that bright house, like a princess trapped in a tower. People knew better than to ask your father, and of course, they couldn’t get to you. Maybe it was time for someone to be your knight in shining armor.
“Doesn’t matter, he’s not even here right now.” Mylo insists.
So, after a long back and forth conversation of weighing the possibilities, Violet’s shoved over to the shrubs in front of your second story window. You notice her when she’s there (you’ve been sneaking glances at her every so often), shifting your position so that you can look down on her as she calls out your name.
“Afternoon, cowgirl,” you coo, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“Hey there, angel,” she simply replies with that signature smile, and your hands clench the frame you’re leaning on a bit tighter. “We’re done with the chores for today.”
“Oh. Well, get home safely.” you hum, eyes dropping in what Vi hopes is discontent, because her next words will cheer you right up.
“Actually, we’re not headed home just yet. The five of us are headed out into the woods over there for a little.. chat." The glowing sunlight illuminates her face as she nods her head to Mylo, who’s allowing the brown paper bag to peek out of his backpack and into your vision. Alcohol. “Would you wanna come with us? Won’t take up too much of your time, I promise.” she asks with a cool voice but a pounding, fearful heart.
No.
Or at least, that’s what you were supposed to say. It’s what you’d normally say. As much as your ill heart ached to connect with others, as much as you wanted to venture out of your home, as much as this strawberry-haired helper made you want to explore new things you’d only ever seen in movies, your answer always had to be no.
But, unbeknownst to the others, today was your birthday. You had cautiously lived another year, and instead of feeling fulfilled, you only wonder how many you have left.
You wanted to live, not survive.
You stared in contemplation before backing up, shutting the window and rushing out of the girl’s sight.
Vi dropped her head down to the shrubs in front of her. It’s over. She blew it.
“You scared her!” Ekko teased, making the girl whip her head around to show an angry stare. But the displeased expression faded faster than it formed when the creaking of that back door met her ears, and Powder gasped in joy and disbelief.
“Lead the way.”
The walk along the trail of the woods to a more secluded area with cut wood stumps as seats was anything but quiet. Powder was talking your ear off about everything mechanic she worked on, treating you like you were from the middle ages rather than just sheltered. Claggor and Mylo were leading, causing the group numerous wrong turns and unplanned ‘shortcuts’ (they’d gotten lost along the way). Vi walked with Ekko on her left, quietly pumping her up and giving her the confidence she’d need to ‘make her move’.
But despite the various noises, she couldn’t hear anything. Because strolling to her right was you, the girl she’s been infatuated with since first glance. She’s trying to be discreet, examining the way your hair falls, your scent, the way you press your lips together in thought before answering a question. It took the platinum blonde boy next to her elbowing her side before she came back to the real world.
“I call first sip,” Powder squeaks, to which Violet scoffs, making a quip about how she’s only sixteen and scolding anyone who attempts to offer her the bottle. The bluenette brings up the fact that the others aren’t even the legal drinking age either, but it’s shut down because ‘an adult is an adult’.
“We’ll bring a juice box for you next time.” Mylo smirks, taking a long drag from the bag before offering it out to you.
Despite the soft urge, you shake your head, because you know your limits. Your heart’s limits. Despite the fact that you’re ignoring the sweatiness of your palms and feeble limbs.
Mylo hums. “Two juice boxes, then.”
“Mylo–” Vi scolds, finally coming out of her trance.
But her anger is cut short at the sound of a hearty chuckle coming from your mouth. And it’s the first time Vi’s ever heard you laugh. Genuinely laugh. It’s enough to bring stars to her already-bright eyes.
The conversation continues as the sun and clouds pass by. Eventually, the others are in a heated debate about the best character in some film you’ve never heard of, leaving you and Violet to shyly shift your attention towards each other.
“I’m glad you came. I noticed you.. don’t get out much?” Her tone is the gentlest it’s ever been.
“I’m glad you invited me.” You easily avert her indirect question. It eats you alive, the want to tell her everything about you. How you have a “bad heart” as your father gently put it, and now you live your days mundanely so as to not risk triggering anything fatal. But the desire to live just one day in normalcy is stronger, and so you change topics.
“You have very big muscles. I like them. Is that why you do most of the lifting things rather than herding cattle and such, like other cowgirls?”
Vi feels her cheeks get toasty at the compliment and your almost-awkward forwardness. But you can’t help it, you’ve hardly had conversations with anyone but your father the past few years, let alone a handsome girl so close in age. It doesn’t matter much though, because Vi loves it.
“Not a real cowgirl. I’m only good for lifting what others can’t.” She chuckles a bit. “I just happen to own a horse— and I wear the hat of course… maybe the belt’s a little cowgirl-like too, but that’s all.”
You smirk because that makes her a cowgirl in your book, but you politely hum and say nothing.
The girl shifts her position to turn towards you more, and you swear your heart stops when one of her manspread knees leans against your crossed ones and makes no attempt to move. She examines your behavior, and when she sees the ghost of a smile on your lips, she leans on her opened legs slightly to get more comfortable.
“So what do y’ do in that big house all day, angel? Must get lonely.”
These nicknames are doing terribly good things to you.
You hum. She’s completely correct, but the last thing you want is for her to pity you. “Bake a lot, shop in the catalogs, watch movies, write in my books.” You shrug. “Oh, and I take care of my Daisy girl.” A smile graces your perfect lips.
“That your dog? Never seen her around,” she asked with questioning brows.
“No,” you giggle, sending Vi into heaven. So beautiful. “It’s my lamb.”
A beat passes before she responds, a glint in her eye. “So I should be calling you Bo Peep?” she jokes.
You laugh, knocking your knees against hers in playful scolding. Simple words, simple touches, a simple gathering that may be day to day life for anyone else in the town. But for you, this was the best thing to happen in years.
“Daisy’s a sweet name, matches her sweetheart of an owner.” she compliments you, and you graze your hand over your heart because you can’t decipher why it’s speeding up. “We sound real rugged compared to you. Our dog’s name is Rusty. Powder ch–”
“Hey!”
A deep, raspy voice calls out from behind you. A few of you whip your heads around to see the source of the noise, whereas others stand out of shock as the man comes into your sight. “What are y’all doing on my property? Get over here!” He’s moving quickly towards the group, and Ekko’s the first to move his feet.
“Time to go,” Vi says hastily, standing. Without thinking, she takes your hands and pulls you to a stand. “You a good runner?”
No. I don’t know. I haven’t had anywhere to run in years.
That’s what you should’ve said, but as stated earlier, a life of normalcy for today. And so, you lie.
“Sure– yes, yes.”
Vi nods at that, tightening her grasp on one of your hands as she rushes to exit along with the others. Your hands stay intertwined as the pair of you dash through the greenery, avoiding unfriendly hanging branches, jumping over logs, and ducking under leaves.
You’re terrified. The same glistening sweat that forms in your clammy hands makes another appearance on your forehead. A prickle crawls its way up your throat, and suddenly you’re hacking into your elbow as the cowgirl guides you close to her body while you near the edge of the woods. Your little red problem pounds against your chest as if it’s begging you to stop, to give up before it does, but you can’t.
The man moves quickly, but he’s no match for adolescents of the countryside. By the time you reach the fields of your farm, he’s nowhere to be found.
Powder’s hollering and cheers of victory sound broken, doubling and distilled, coupled with a soft ringing sound and pressure around your head that only grows the longer you stand. The only thing you can hear clearly is your quick panting. That deep red blood is draining from your head and blazing heat is left in its place.
A blurry and distant Violet comes into your impaired vision, and you feel the soft sensation of her cupping your face with worried hands. “Cherry?”
Your mind’s swirling with thousands of sensations, and your terrified breaths grow increasingly shallow until you can’t fight to stay awake any longer, falling into the arms of Vi. There’s yelling, someone scooping you up into their protective arms, orders being thrown around as you’re rushed towards the house, then silence. Complete and utter silence.
The female lead is on your screen twirling and rolling her hips with glee for the third time this week, and you wonder if you'll get a chance to dance like that.
It’d been three days since you fainted after running from the farmer down the trail, three days since you’ve seen Violet (or any of the farm helpers), and three days since you’ve felt that inexplicable warmth in the pit of your stomach.
While you rendered unconscious, Vi and the others scrambled to get your limp body inside. They laid you out on your bed, arguing about whether or not to call for help, because they had no clue what was wrong with you.
Of course, you woke up a couple minutes later as you always do. You were confused and terrified, but strictly instructed to rest by the friends who promised they’d stay until your father arrived. Fatigued even more than normal, you complied.
When your father arrived home an hour later, he stumbled upon Powder placing an ice pack on your sleeping head, Claggor and Mylo pacing the room in worry, Ekko attempting to research what exactly would have caused your current state, and Violet looking sick to her stomach as she cradled your soft hands in her rough ones; praying to whoever’s up there that you’d be fine.
Needless to say, once they’d confessed to leaving for the woods and running back (leaving out every bit alcohol related), he’d been beyond furious, placing you on total lockdown for recovery and demanding the helpers avoid the farm for a couple of days. After you’d gotten your medication in you and recovered after a full day of rest, he chewed you out too. ‘You know I’m just trying to keep you safe.’
But you didn’t want safe anymore, you wanted life.
And Violet walked right through your front door. Literally.
The pinkette runs a hand through her fluffy hair before securing the cowboy hat back on her head. Her eyes are searching the house for the kitchen when they land on you, and a wave of relief washes over her.
“Hi, angel.”
Your heart speeds up, and this time, you don’t need to question it.
“Hi Violet,” you coo shyly, standing from your comfy position on the couch and making your way over to her, hands clasped behind your back.
She wastes no time cradling your face in her calloused fingers, the pair of your soft breaths filling the silence as the girl looks over you, finishing her personal assessment before swiping a thumb across your cheek in gentle comfort.
“I was so worried about you,” the whisper fell from her lips without shame.
“I’m fine, really.” you speak in the same tone, leaning into her sweet hand.
“No, you’re not.” That catches you off guard. “When your father saw what happened he panicked, said something about your heart and thought you were…” she let your mind fill the blank with a glint of pain in her blue-gray eyes. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Your eyes drop to the floor, and before you have time to think about it, you speak. “I’m sick. The bad kind of sick that doesn’t just go away after a couple days.” you can’t look her in the eyes as you speak, just placing a finger to your chest. “I have a ‘bad heart’, as my father puts it. Don’t have a lot of energy, can’t do much without getting too overwhelmed, dizzy spells and such..”
You expect to see a crack in Vi’s sweet eyes, a sign of distaste, of regret for caring about a broken girl, but her gaze only softens and a tender hand moves a piece of hair from your face.
“That why you’re cooped up in here?” she asks, even though she knows the answer. You nod.
It’s silent for some time, and the two of you enjoy the other’s presence in such a milestone moment.
“I have somethin’ for the five of you,” you finally speak, pulling from her affectionate grasp. She nods, wiping the worry she feels in the pit of her stomach away so that she can be there for you. You stroll into the kitchen with the cowgirl behind you, opening and rummaging around the fridge as she takes a needed seat at the marble island.
She looks over your attire. A big bright red sweater hangs off your shoulders that covers your shorts, and a white bow in your hair that brings a smile back to her face.
You turn back around, setting down a tiffany blue cupcake platter and perfectly made white-frosted cupcakes with a purple design in the middle. You then pull out some tupperware, transferring cupcakes into it as Vi speaks.
“They’re Violets,” she says in surprise and you giggle, only nodding your head.
Marry me she thinks, before coming up with something more plausible to say. “Is this what you’re studying in college? You're gonna be a chef or somethin’ angel?”
You pause before barely shaking your head. “Not goin’ to college this year.. my father says I need a gap year before ‘making any big decisions’,” you scoff, because the truth is he just can’t let you go. “Worries me though. He won’t go out and buy me any textbooks or anything, I’m gonna go stupid.” you whine.
Vi presses her lips together, clearly sharing your discontent with the situation.
“Well, I know you’ll do great when you go. There’s already a strong brain in that pretty head of yours,” she grins.
A smile forms against your will as you look up at the girl.
“You think I’m pretty, Violet?’
She responds quickly, like the words spilled out of her heart rather than being formulated in her head. “I think you’re gorgeous. Whoever’s up there took their time making you.”
Comfortable silence ensues as the room’s filled with pounding hearts and warm faces of passion. Finally, you finish packing up Vi’s cupcakes and place the box in front of her. She thanks you, looking to the side in thought before an idea flickers across her face.
The girl rises, lifting the hat from her head and leaning over the marble to place it atop your surprised head. She doesn’t wait for your reaction as she picks up the cupcake box and a wooden crate from the ground (what she should’ve been doing in the first place). “Keep that safe for me until tomorrow, cherry.”
“But isn’t tomorrow your day off?” you ask, flicking the front of the hat so it’s above your eyes.
“Yeah. I’m coming to see you tomorrow.”
The sun couldn’t set and rise fast enough.
You waited in so much anticipation that you woke up an hour earlier, practically shoved your father out of the house with his breakfast, and spent any extra time at a mirror fixing an out of place hair or switching your outfit for the fifth time.
You don’t know why you do– why you care so much. But before you can think too hard on it, the sound of someone pulling into your driveway blesses your ears and there’s six soft knocks at the front door.
And so it starts with you and Vi seated on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Your backs lean against the lower portion of the soft matter, and Vi pulls out a book. Four books, to be exact. One for each core subject.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, looking from the pile of literature to the fluffy haired girl.
“I was thinkin’ I'd bring some textbooks to you since you can’t get ‘em yourself. I’m in my second year now so I won’t be needin’ these ones anymore.” She somehow speaks with both suave confidence and warm-faced fear in unison. “We could make it a thing, y’know. Preparing for classes together.”
“Yes!” You speak with starstruck orbs.
Violet laughed with relief, because if she had to be completely honest, that wasn’t the only reason she was here. She didn’t need this time to prepare, maybe a quick refresh before the year started, but she definitely didn’t need to be studying during summer. But if it gave her a chance to connect with you, she’d study until her brain burst.
The helpers’ off days were Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. So that’s when Violet would pack her books, hop in her truck, and haul ass to your farm. Each session was the same. You’d start out in comfortable silence reading your separate texts and answering questions or jotting notes down, then Violet would make a stupid joke about a picture in the book or get sidetracked by your bookshelf of dvds in front of her, and minutes later the room would be filled with fits of laughter, fuzzy brains, and your books completely discarded.
“‘Dirty dancing’? Damn cherry, your father know you watch this stuff?” Vi grins, sliding the movie case back into its spot along the brown wooden shelf.
“It’s not that kinda movie, Violet. It’s like.. set in the sixties.” you huff, holding back a smile at her playful words. The pinkette takes her seat next to you on the couch, manspread legs and a cunning smirk just inches away from your face.
“And what exactly is ‘one of those movies’, doll?” she teases.
You scoff.
“I’m sheltered, not stupid.” you play, a soft hand coming up to push against the girl’s arm.
Something flickers across the pinkette’s face before suddenly, she’s on top of you.
You’re pushed onto your back against the plush couch as pure muscle weighs above you, powerful hands swirl at your waist before your laughter fills her ears and your hand shoots out to grab at one of her arms. The pair of you struggle for power, pushing back and forth, twisting bodies, and yelling out competitive quips.
Finally, you smush the palm of your hand against Violet’s face, momentarily stunning her before the stronger girl grabs both of your wrists and pins them right above your head.
Soft panting and awestruck eyes decorate the both of you. The air is tighter, every inch of your body is suddenly aware of your positions, and no words are exchanged as you savor the feeling of her touch. God you feel weak, but you don’t know whether to place the reasoning on Violet or your heart.
Violet’s about to lose it, because with the way your sweet eyes are trailing up her body to her face, her heart is clear.
She wants– no, craves you. Bad.
It’s quiet for a moment longer before Vi clears her throat, reluctantly letting go of your wrists while moving back to stand.
“We deserve a study break.” the cowgirl hums, crouching and examining the lower levels of the bookshelf.
“We haven’t even been studying,” you throw back and fix your skirt while sitting up. Vi finds the record she’s been searching for, pulls it from its sleeve, and adjusts the player.
“Okay smart ass, we deserve a break.” she grins and the stylus hits the circular item.
A soft, sensual song makes its way through the air. It’s older, a woman singing softly about her lover’s perfection, and you warm at the thought of a special someone fantasizing about you to the tune.
Vi stands in the middle of the spacious room, and when you don’t move she waves her arm. “C’mere.”
You stand (a little quicker than you should’ve), and make your way over. She wastes no time, gently moving one of your hands to her shoulder and intertwining fingers with your other. As for your free hand, she tenderly places it on your waist, looking for any discomfort in your face. All she’s met with is big eyes of wonder and god, she’s screwed.
“Just follow my lead.” she’s speaking sensually under the music, thumb rubbing at your waist.
“Oh please, I could dance circles around you.” you quip.
“I’m sure you could, doll. But it’s a slow dance, so we work together.” Your bodies move closer as she speaks, making you smile and lose the sassy attitude for a moment. Just a moment.
Angelic vocals encase the two of you. There are only sounds of that and gentle side steps before you speak once more.
“Did you know it was my birthday?” You stare straight into her eyes.
“Wait, what?”
“The day we went to the woods. Is that why you asked me to come? Because it was my birthday?” you tilt your head.
She blinks twice before huffing a laugh. “No, I didn’t know. This mean I made you faint and get in trouble with your pops as a present?”
You smile to yourself at the coincidence, holding her hand a bit tighter.
“Have you danced with someone like this before?” she asks.
You shake your head before pausing. “Well, once with my mother, but I was very little.”
Vi’s eyes soften a bit more. “Is she..?”
You nod. “It happened when I was eleven. She had the same problem as me, that’s why he’s so protective.” Your voice is soft as you refer to your father. “I understand him, I really do, but I’m just so tired of being separate from the world.”
The girl can only nod, the hand around your waist snakes around to your back and pulls closer until your bodies are almost plush against each other.
“Thank you for trusting me with that,” she whispers. And suddenly, there’s soft giggles. You’re laughing because the tough, suave cowgirl you know can be such a sap.
Your laughter dies down and you shake your head before placing it between the crook of Vi’s neck, softening into your sappy cowgirl. “Talk to me about something good,” you hum.
“I’m takin’ you out on a date Friday.”
Your eyes widen and you pull your head back to look her in the eyes.
She stammers and mentally groans because you’re the only one who could ever make Violet Lane stammer. “Well– if you say yes.”
No.
That’s what you’re supposed to say, and what you should say. Not because of your father’s influence, not for your safety, but because you’re afraid. Afraid of the trouble you could get Vi into, of dealing with the unknown, but most importantly you were afraid of hurting her.
While you aren’t bedridden, your life is fragile, and the thought of being a burden to Vi was heavy and present. How long could she stand you until she got tired of your neediness? How long until she’s tired of hearing about all the things you can’t do? She’s spontaneous, reckless, fun, and you thought she deserves to end up with someone just like that. Someone you’re not.
But right now, you want her, and she needs you, so you give her what you can.
“Of course,” you agree with a genuine, toothy smile, and the pinkette sighs of relief.
The song finally comes to a stop.
For the first time, you’re glad your father works all day long, because there’s no way you could sneak someone as loud as Powder around your house.
Her squeals of embarrassment and your laughter echo from the kitchen throughout every room of your home. Your canvases and paints are neglected as you point an accusatory finger at a message on her screen. A message from ‘Ekko <3’.
“I knew it! The way you talk to each other– ‘Oh Ekko! You’re just so smart,’” you mock her, making the girl’s face change colors faster than you’ve ever seen.
“I do not say things like that!” She yells back, making you giggle harder. “And we aren’t dating.”
“Why not?” you whine. You clasp your hands as if a plea is about to fall from your lips when a ding rings throughout the room. You look down and gasp. A message from ‘Lux <3’.
You pause, eyes flickering to the girl. “Do you have everyone saved with a heart?”
She shakes her head.
“Just those two?”
She nods.
“Oh, this is just like the movies!” Your laughter repeats like a loop. The girl groans at you and moves her phone to the other end of the marble countertop. “I’m kidding– awhh, Powder!”
She shakes her head. “This conversation is all the way over.”
It takes a moment for your giggles to die down, and soon you’re nudging the bluenette’s shoulder with yours gently. “You’ll make the right decision, just don’t waste time overthinking it. Follow your heart.”
She raises her eyebrows, picking up her paintbrush. “I could give you the same advice.”
You scoff out a laugh, gaze landing on your taunting medications in the corner of a counter. “My heart is fighting itself. Wants two different things at once. Certainly can’t have both.”
“Then follow your mental heart, not your physical one.”
You pause, brows furrowing as you look at her with suspicious eyes. “Did Violet..”
Powder shakes her head before you can finish. “No. She can keep a secret, especially for you. I connected the dots on my own,” she shrugs, swiping an electric blue line across the clean canvas. “Y’know, the meds, how protective your father is. Once, on one of your bad days, I looked through a window and saw you sitting down a third of the way up the stairs looking all dizzy and breathless. You fainting just tied it all together,” she hums.
You burn holes into the ground with your utterly ashamed gaze.
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, but you should live the life you want rather than being trapped in one you yearn to escape. And you can count on that big baby to protect you.” You let out a little laugh, nodding at the younger girl’s sweet words.
“Oh yeah, she wanted me to give you this. Dummy forgot it yesterday.”
Powder sets the brush down and rummages around her tote bag that lays on the counter, pulling out a tiny black velvet box and handing it to you before turning back to her self-proclaimed masterpiece.
Your heart swells in the best way possible, and you flick open the little clasp to reveal a thick golden ring with two red dots and a green leaf in the middle. It’s accompanied by a small white note with bright red writing.
‘Happy birthday, cherry.’
“I knew they were together!”
You stare out of the windows of Vi’s truck into the town square. Your gaze is fixed on Miss Medarda and Mister Talis, who are sitting suspiciously close to each other on a bench near one of the decorative fountains.
Vi fixes her dark brown hat as a laugh escapes her. “No way, he’s always chatting up this guy– one of the professors at U.P.” Vi refers to her college, and it takes you a second to understand.
“His hand was on her thigh, Violet. That was pure romance.”
Vi pauses, seemingly focused on the road ahead, but the lightbulb look behind her eyes that appears makes you think otherwise. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see who’s right.” she jokes after remembering she hadn’t responded.
Vibrant sunlight hits almost every inch of the truck and illuminates the town that passes by as the pinkette turns down a road surrounded by greenery. You spin the gifted ring on your finger once, then twice, out of nervousness. It’d been years since you left your house for anything but the doctor’s, let alone a date. A thousand and one possibilities whirled through your mind, but were quickly flushed out at the sound of Vi’s voice.
“I see you got your gift,” she smiles, eyes flicking away from the road down to your ring and back. “I like how it looks on you.”
She was skilled at putting up a flirtatious and unbothered front, because on the inside you had her absolutely melting. Out of all ten options, you chose to secure her gift on your left ring finger.
You’ll be the death of her, no doubt.
“It’s perfect,” you look over to her with hearts in your eyes. “Thanks, cowgirl.”
She nods, eyes flickering back down before she takes her right hand off of the wheel and down to thumb the end of your shorts. “I like these too, real damn pretty.”
You giggle, and somehow the swarm of butterflies in your gut doubles in size, because instead of returning to the wheel, the girl’s hand is delicately placed onto your inner thigh. Her calloused hands gently cup your skin, and she’s grateful you can’t read minds because she’s terrified of your potential reaction.
You can’t fight the smile that crawls its way onto your warm face. The only thought that runs through your mind is how this is even better than the movies.
“Well I hope I’m dressed well enough for whatever we’re doing today. Wish you woulda told me.” You finally reply, softening under her touch. You swear you hear her let out a little sigh of relief.
“That’d ruin the surprise. I’ve gotta wow you.” she sends you a wink and your laughter fills the car with joy.
It doesn’t take long until you’re pulling into the driveway of Violet’s house. It’s beautiful, all brown and white with flowers out front that Powder planted herself, high school graduation yard signs, and fresh open space. Still, a panicked look sets on your face.
“Wait, wait, Vander’s gonna see me– he’ll tell my dad,” you stammer.
Vi cuts the engine, gently taking a hold of your chin to redirect your gaze as she speaks reassuringly. “Hey, hey. He’s not here you worrywart, won’t be home until late tonight.” Your eyes soften and you sigh. “Besides,” she starts, “we’re going over there.”
Just past the house is a matching white and brown barn-esque building. Stables.
“She’s so big!” you yell with awestruck eyes as Vi pulls the red roan out of the stables by the lead. “What’s her name? When’d you get her? Wow I’ve never seen one of these up close, mama was afraid of ‘em and my father doesn’t ride.” You speak at rapid fire making Violet snicker.
“Slow down,” she instructs, standing between you and the hairy beauty. The girl takes your hand, placing it on the horse’s shoulder, giving you the okay to pet. “Her name’s Gunner, she was my fifteenth birthday present, and I can’t imagine your pops getting anywhere near a horse.” You playfully hit her with your unoccupied hand.
“Gunner,” you whisper, “badass.”
Vi chuckles, because swearing sounds so foreign to you.
“You ready?” She asks, slipping her black riding helmet on your head.
“Wait, what?”
“You think I brought you here just to stare at her?” she smirks, completely mesmerized by your face while tightening the straps of the protective gear. “We’ll go slow this time, I promise. Okay?”
The promise of this happening again makes your heart flutter, and all of the gears in your brain stop spinning before you respond, “Okay.”
She helps you onto Gunner, patting the small of your back before hopping up right behind you. Her warm arms snake around your waist and grab hold of the reins in her hands. Her muscular front is smushed against your back, her head placed inches to the right of yours.
“Now, gently squeeze his middle with your calves,” she instructs.
You obey, and the red roan begins its walk. It’s slow, peaceful, but such a new experience to you that a sweet gasp of surprise falls from your lips.
The two of you sit in silence, appreciating the comfort of each others’ presence and warm golden light shining upon you as the beauty of nature captures you. In the green pasture of Vi’s fields, you feel like you’re breathing for the first time in five long years.
Gunner simply walks for a few minutes as you point out pretty flowers that you pass and Violet mentally compiles a bouquet for you. Vi’s talking about her years as a kid in this field. When she’d lost (and found) her favorite toy bunny out here, or dared Mylo to walk through the vast field at the dead of night. Suddenly you’re begging to see some baby photos.
It’s at this moment that everything’s easy. Vi’s admiring everything about you with eyes of love when–
Gunner’s neigh sounds like a shriek of terror when three birds zip past, spooking the roan into a 180 and bolt away before Vi can make it out of her trance.
You yelp from the sudden change in speed, almost slipping off of the animal, but Vi’s there to keep you securely fastened against her as she takes control of it. Just as fast as it changed, Gunner’s speed slows to a stop. You can feel just how tense Vi is as she speaks.
“Shit. I’m so sorry, doll. She gets spooked so easily and– god, I’m sorry for scarin’ you.”
It’s silent for a moment. The scariest moment of the pink haired girl’s life, because she can’t see your twinkling grin that spreads from ear to ear before you laugh.
“That was so cool!” you beam, leaning forward to pat at the horse. “Not so badass though, huh?”
After a few more apologies and you repeatedly telling Vi that it was fine, you two decided it was best to turn in for the day.
You sigh, sitting against the short wooden fence. “I wanna rest for a minute, that okay?” ‘I need to take a rest, I don’t have any energy’ is what you actually mean, but you choose not to worry her.
She wastes no time plopping down onto the grass next to you, eyes raising to the baby blue sky. She gives you a few moments of silence, sneaking glances at your face every so often, before speaking.
“Powder and Claggor were talking about how awesome it’d be if we took you to a Seraphine concert. Think you’d like her music a lot.” she hums, smiling to herself.
“And one day, I'm gonna take you line dancing so we can settle our little debate once and for all.” Her grinning face is inches away from you and her overpowering scent of amber and musk ensues.
“Oh really?” Your voice is soft as your head turns, looking Violet up and down with half-lidded eyes. “I think..”
You quickly mount Vi’s lap, pushing the girl onto her back and pinning those muscular arms right beside her head with both of your hands. You’re both all giggles and grunts, and even though there’s no way you’d stand a chance against her in a real tussle, she lets you win.
You lay there, one atop the other in a field of colors. The tension is so thick that not even a knife could cut it, and your grip softens when tender hands reach up to cup your face, a thumb stroking your cheek. The sun, her hands, her sparkling blue eyes, and the love radiating between the two of you has you all but melting. You’re leaning down, inching closer each second, and just before Vi’s dreams come true, you stop.
You pull back with newly glossy eyes, dismounting the girl while whispering apologies that get lodged in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
You want nothing more than to connect your lips and hearts, but you were so afraid. How long until she resents you? How long until it’s over? You’d grown accustomed to heartaches, but never heartbreak.
But Violet craves you more than plants crave water, she needs you more than the Earth needs the sun. You just don’t know it.
“Hey,” she whispers, sitting up and holding your chin as if routine. “Look at me, angel.”
You comply with built up tears that threaten to stain your cheeks.
“You don’t have to apologize for something like that,” she consoles, never looking away from your softened eyes. “We can go as slow or as fast as you want, okay?”
You wipe your tears with the side of your hand, choking out your words. “I just– I don’t want to disappoint you.” I don’t want you to hate me once I’m gone.
“Disappoint me?” She stiffles out a laugh. “You don’t know how bad I want you. But I’ll wait until the end of time if you ask me to, hell, I’d lasso the moon and bring it down if you wanted.”
That makes you sniffle and let out a breathy laugh, bringing Violet some relief. The girl slowly inches forward to make sure you’re completely okay with it before placing a warmhearted kiss to your forehead. It’s quick and simple, but causes an eruption of butterflies in your gut. Soon, your troubles are forgotten.
“Let’s get you home, yeah?”
“What’d I say about keeping this door open?” Vi raises a brow, leaning against the doorframe as she stares at an unbothered Powder who’s doing her mascara, and a flustered Ekko.
“Must’ve been the wind.” Powder mutters.
“She wouldn’t listen!” He raises his hands in innocence from his position on a neon pink beanbag.
It’s silent before the three burst out in laughter, and Vi’s shaking her head as they catch their breath.
“Hurry up though, we’re gonna be late to Laurier’s.”
“Not today, Vi.” Vander’s voice bellows from behind her, making her turn her head with furrowed brows. “He gave the five of you a day off.”
A smile graces Ekko’s lips and Powder is whooping in the back, but Vi’s lips drop into a subtle frown.
“Awhh,” Powder coos, “poor Vi doesn’t get to see her girlfriend today, how ever will she live?”
The teens snicker, but the pinkette notices the uneasy look on his face, the one where he has something to say but just can’t spit it out. “What?”
The burly man runs a hand across his beard with a sigh.
“His daughter.” The entire room pauses. “She's terribly ill today, bedridden. He’s staying home to watch over her so there’s no need for far–”
Vander doesn’t get to finish his explanation, because Vi’s pulling the keys from her pocket and rushing past him towards the front door.
It takes almost running three red lights and a long, torturous talk with your father about being able to speak to you just for an hour, but at your bedroom door stands Vi, taking off her hat to look at you with big worried eyes. “Cherry,” she calls out.
You feel absolutely horrendous.
Your breaths are shallow, your ankles feel swollen beyond belief (you thanked god Violet couldn’t see them from under the blanket), and your eyelids weighed a thousand pounds, threatening to drop from fatigue.
“What’s going on? What can I do?” she asks, wasting no time walking over to your pretty bed and taking a seat right next to you.
You shake your pillow-elevated head, laying on your side to face her with a soft smile. “Can’t do anything, it’s just a bad day.” You reach a hand out to grab her calloused one and intertwine your fingers. “Just glad you’re here.”
“How’d you get past my father?” you whisper, relaxing into the soft matter.
Vi huffs out a laugh, readjusting to lay down as she speaks. “Convinced him that I’m extremely knowledgeable in this area because I’m studying to be in the medical field. So he thought it’d be fine if I watched over you while he feeds the cattle.”
You giggle with a teasing look. “Oh yeah, what have you learned?”
“Cherries are good for the heart,” she says all ‘matter of fact’ like. “They have potassium and antioxidants to reduce inflammation.”
“I should be the one calling you cherry, then.” You hum. You don’t know how much it means to Vi to hear that she’s ‘good for you’.
It’s quiet again, and you spend time shamelessly looking over every inch of the girl’s face, landing on her powder-blue orbs. “You know, your children would have some beautiful eyes.”
“And yours would be beautiful all around,” there’s not a trace of doubt in her voice. “What would you name them?” She asks and throws out silly names as you look around in thought, “Batman? Lice? Maddie?”
“How is Maddie as bad as those names?”
“I just don’t like it!”
Your giggles fill the room before you shake your intertwined hand. “Maybe either.. Josie or Clementine? They sound.. warm. Safe.”
Vi nods, pulling you closer into her chest and draping an arm over you that cradles your back, “Josie it is.”
Your ears burn as you nuzzle into her. “And we’ll live in a big pretty house in the city, surrounded by noise and culture and life.” You wished so badly.
“We?” Vi asks.
“Me, Josie… and you.” You look up at her with the last of your body’s strength. “If you’ll join us.”
That spark in Violet’s stomach has grown to a full fire heating her body. Her dream girl’s lying in her arms, talking her ears off about their hypothetical future together, all while looking up at her with pupils blown wide as if she’s your knight in shining armor.
“Of course,” she agrees, “but we’ll have to bring Rusty and Gunner along.”
You snicker with a nod. “Sounds perfect.”
There’s a glint in the girl’s eyes as she trails her hand up your back to the soft skin of your face. “A pretty house, an adorable daughter, my rascal animals,” you let out a weak laugh, “and my pretty girl to share it all with.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Yours?” you tease.
“Yeah, mine.”
She’s tracing meaningless patterns on your neck with one hand while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with the other. And god, whatever this feeling is it’s too good, too sweet, too sensual. Your waiting lips are slightly agape in awe, and it doesn’t take long before Vi whispers, “Can I?”
This time, ‘yes’ is the only word that pops into your brain and slips from your mouth as Vi’s lips crash into yours.
Her lips are melting into yours with so much intensity that it’s hard to keep up. You let her take the lead while your scents, minds, and tongues mix together in a bundle of passion. Her grip around you never loosens. Fingers thread through your hair, and her slightly chapped lips dread leaving yours, because your kisses are the air she needs to breathe.
A whine falls from you when she reluctantly pulls away from your sweet mouth, placing four chaste kisses on your cheeks, nose, and forehead.
“You need to rest,” she coos, peppering your forehead with another (much needed) kiss, and keeping the close proximity as her arms wrap around you. There’s no argument, because the adrenaline rush from her kiss is wearing off and that wave of exhaustion snakes its way back.
There you lay, bodies intertwined and souls tying as the sound of Vi’s healthy heartbeat lulls you to sleep.
Once you’re out, you stay sound asleep as Vi hesitantly leaves your bed.
You stay sound asleep as she trots downstairs where your father places weights of guilt upon her, claiming he knows you two have been sneaking around, and it’s her fault you’re in this current state.
You stay sound asleep as he demands she doesn’t return to the farm, permanently.
With every inch of your worn down heart, you hate Violet Lane.
And while deep down you know that’s not the slightest bit true, you still act like it.
When you woke up the next day, the birds singing and a beaming face as you skipped downstairs to hug your father good morning, the last thing you expected was to hear the all too confusing news that Vi had quit. Along with the rest of her siblings and friend just an hour after.
Unfortunately, you were none the wiser, and slowly sulked up the stairs and sank into your bed where you cried yourself back to sleep.
For the first couple days, it didn’t make sense. The way she looked at you with those big puppy dog eyes, her tender care, the ways she spoke to and about you, it all seemed so real. It had to be real.
On day three, you decided that acting was just one of her many skills.
By day four, you had it figured out, or so you thought. Vi was a flirtatious asshole who wanted nothing more than some street credit for kissing the untouchable, locked up, sick princess right under her overbearing father’s nose. Coming to and believing such a conclusion felt like a stab in the side, and the knife only twisted when you factored in the fact that the others must’ve known about this, which is why they left alongside her.
You thought you’d become accustomed to all of the heart pains in the world, but you were wrong.
Tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall until they grew dry, your baking pans yearned to be used but were shoved away into a cabinet, and what hurt the most was knowing your father was right for keeping you locked up all these years. You weren’t free, but you were safe.
Finally, on day five, you’re engulfed by the plush matter of your couch when there’s six knocks at the door and someone’s calling out for you: “Cherry?”
You scoff at her audacity.
When you storm over and yank open the door with the meanest glare Vi’s ever seen from the prettiest girl she knows, you’re met with Ekko leaning against your white picket fence with his arms crossed, Powder standing next to him with a worried face, Claggor and Mylo relaxed against Vi’s bright red truck, and said truck-driver right in front of you looking absolutely sick.
And you slam the door right in her backstabbing face.
“Seriously?” Vi huffs out, earning a stifled laugh and whistle from Mylo.
“Go away, Violet.” You yell through the door, voice the sternest she’s ever heard.
“Fuck no. What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” you counter, back pressed against your barrier. “You got all that you wanted from me, and then you quit and disappear from my life. So why are you back, huh?”
You’re lucky you’re packed with pent up anger, because tears are bubbling in the corners of your eyes and yelling is the only thing keeping them from spilling over.
“What?” the pinkette's completely taken aback, because she has no clue what you’re on about.
“That’s not–” she sighs, lowering her voice before speaking. “I’ll never get enough of you. I’d take a thousand kisses and so, so much more if you’d let me, but that’s not why I see you, angel.”
Your eyes soften and hurt brows furrow because damn, she’s a good actress.
“And I didn’t quit. That afternoon when you fell asleep, your old man practically dragged me out of your house and fired me. Said I caused your symptoms to worsen. I thought I’d lay low for a few days– and believe me when I say these were the hardest days of my life, but I didn’t want to get you in any trouble.”
Your bottom lip is bitten red until you finally cave, creeping the door open just enough to show your face.
“You promise?” you ask, and Violet’s heart is aching.
“Cross my heart.” she replies.
That’s all it takes for you to swing the door open and jump into her arms. She stumbles back in surprise before applying the same force, arms wrapping around your waist as she melts into yours cradling her neck.
You’re sniffling, taking deep breaths before you speak. “Really thought you left me,” you croak out.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” she teases, placing a tender kiss on your forehead as you giggle and blink away tears.
“Now go get changed, we’re going out,” a grin tugs at the corner of her lips when your happy eyes make contact with hers. You blink, an idea flashing across your face, before pulling her inside by the wrist, yelling “just a minute!” to the others, before hastily shutting the door.
Violet’s eyes graze over every last atom of your body as your hips sway in front of her, babbling with Powder about who knows what, because she hasn’t been focused since you dragged her into your bedroom ‘innocently’ needing help with your outfit.
She stood in your doorway curiously, thinking she’d only be there for a second, maybe you’d never been to a rodeo and needed advice.
That was, until you paused at your walk in closet, a cheeky smirk on your lips that Vi desperately wanted to taste as you nod your head towards the bed. “Sit.”
And she obeyed, manspread legs at the edge of your bed as you walk infront of her with a few items on white hangers. All frills, lace, denim skirts and shorts, and Vi’s reasonably concluded she died and went to heaven.
“I could wear..” you shift the hangers around, “this with this skirt, or maybe these shorts and.. ooh, these boots match my panties.” You get a rise out of seeing the usually suave girl short circuit at the words that bless her ears. Definitely in heaven.
But Vi came to the realization that she was, in fact, alive. Because her heart truly stopped beating when she helped you settle on your pieces, threw her a sugary sweet “thanks, Vi,” did a casual 180, and stuck your ass out to drag your skirt down painfully slow.
Oh, those boots do match your panties.
Now here you stand in a lacy red top, denim shorts that have her thanking god for your creation, and matching cherry red cowgirl boots that graced her eyes the first day you met.
Neverending chatter fills your ears from other attendees, the overwhelming scent of kettle popcorn from a nearby booth stuffs your nostrils, and you see Ekko nudge at Vi, saying something that you can’t hear over the bluenette beside you talking your ear off about the stunning horses she sees.
Suddenly, Vi’s walking up to you and smushing her hat onto your head with her famous smirk. “Keep it safe for me, doll?”
You nod mindlessly, a hand coming up to fix its position on your head.
“Where ya goin’?” Powder calls out to the platinum blonde boy who’s ushering Vi to hurry up.
“Our annual face off,” he throws her a wink, and the girl’s rolling her eyes with a playful scoff.
Before you can even ask, she’s locking arms with you and dragging you along to an even more crowded area. There’s various groups of people surrounding a blocked off area containing a big, black, circular inflatable mat. And directly in the middle is a mischievous brown mechanical bull.
“Are they..” and your question is deemed useless when Ekko mounts the hairy machine, pumping his hands up in motion for the crowd to whoop and holler. Of course, they do.
Ekko does good, to say the least.
One hand grips the bull while the other is thrown up into the air as the machine thrashes him and his white locs every which way. The intensity increases as it tauntingly speeds up, thrashing harder, and spinning recklessly. Finally, he’s bucked off, rolling to a stand and flashing his pearly whites as the crowd cheers.
A giggle falls from your mouth as your hip nudges Powder who’s in complete awe, and she warms in embarrassment.
Vi and Ekko fake tension, sending joking competitive glares as they switch places. Now it’s the pink haired cowgirl that’s mounting the mechanical animal.
You never thought you’d be admiring this sort of thing, but Violet’s never fails to twist your stomach in knots.
With a hand gripping the bull and the other resting on the back of her head, she bucks her hips back and forth to counter the thrashing machine. She’s focused, her sculpted muscles flexing as she holds on tight, but a cocky smile is plastered on her face with teeth biting down on her rosy lips.
Surrounding girls (including yourself) are wooing at the sight.
Vi makes it through the most chaotic shakes and spins as the bull finally comes to a controlled stop, and you’re cheering louder than you ever thought you could.
“Woo! Hell yeah!” you cry out. The girl’s cheesing harder than ever when she hears your support, and the smile lasts all the way over to a fake booing Ekko who rolls his eyes and slips her a twenty dollar bill from his pocket.
You and Powder unlock arms to move over to the riders. A chuckle of amusement spills from you, and you’re securing Violet’s hat back over her fluffy hair. “That was real impressive, cowgirl.”
“Yeah?” she coos.
“Yeah.” The atmosphere grows heavier, each of your eyes searching the other’s like there’s treasure to find. But your little staring contest as Claggor speaks.
“Earth to lovebirds,” he hums politely. “You coming?”
You’re quick to nod, but Vi gently holds your wrist, making you pause. “Actually, I wanted to show cherry around some more. Catch up later?” She asks, but she’s already pulling you away before Claggor nods in agreement and the group goes in the opposite direction as you.
You speed up, feet coming into step with the girl who’s needily pulling you. Her silent prayers are answered when she spots a more secluded area behind a building and some fences.
“Vi,” you snicker, cheeks warming in nervousness, “what are we doing?”
She hums through half lidded orbs, hands finding their place on your hips and hastily pushing you against the wall that covers the two of you from the eyes of others. You’re looking up at her with the sweetest glint in your eyes and it’s driving her absolutely mad.
“You said I was real impressive, right?” Her voice is smoother, breathier.
Ohh.
You tilt your head, teeth chewing on your abused bottom lip before you mutter. “That’s right.. think you deserve a reward, huh?”
“Exactly what I was thinkin’, sweetheart.”
The newfound nickname is sending a shiver up your spine that transforms into a blazing warmth when Vi’s lips fit into yours like puzzle pieces. This time, messy limbs are thrown over each other. Your hand travels from her hands that are cradling your heated face, down to her abs (making her shiver as you scrape your nails across), to tangle in what pink locks aren’t captured by her hat.
A strong hand makes its way around your waist, pulling you dangerously closer to rub against her body. God, she’s good at this.
“Vi..” you’re finally able to whisper as she trails kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. You can feel her smirk against the area where she peppers you with affection.
And it’s perfect.
Not just the way she’s kissing you, or the fact that you’re kissing at all. It’s the environment, the feelings, the friendships that you’ve made with the others, the fact that for today, you’re living a normal life. It’s the fact that for a moment, you can cheer on your friends in a competition, you can lock arms with a friend and woo over others, you can get lost in passionate kisses with a girl and not have another care in the world.
You wished it could stay this way forever.
You lose all sense of shame, letting a soft grunt slip from your lips at the feeling of teeth and a ‘pop’ on your neck. It’s only a matter of seconds before both of your eyes widen and Vi’s pulling back with a crooked smile on her face.
“Did you..”
She wordlessly eyes the red-purple love bite forming on the back-side of your neck, just below your ear.
“Violet!” you drag out with a whine, sending her into a soft fit of laughter. She feels guilty, but you’re just too cute.
You have a love-hate relationship with the neon lights that are beaming throughout the spacious room that brings more noise than you’ve heard in the past five years– maybe more than your entire life.
On one hand, the flashing colors are starting to give you a major headache. On the other, the red glow that decorates Violet’s face as she grins down at you has your insides doing summersaults.
Nevermind. You love the lights.
“C’mon y’all,” Powder calls out with a chipper expression. Ekko’s standing properly in line and his blue haired companion, who’s already freestyling, spins out of control and squeals up a storm.
“You ready?” Vi’s words kiss your ear as she holds both of your hands, pulling you out to the dance floor.
“Are you?”
Your sass has her laughing, and she brings her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. “Follow my lead, cherry.”
And for a few moments, you do. All of the surrounding crowd dances the same to the upbeat, fast-paced country song that pierces your ears, so you replicate Vi’s mixed steps and cute little head tilts with her hand on that chocolate hat.
But then the song changes, it’s more passion filled and fiery. All it takes is Powder spinning out of line and shamelessly making her own moves before you’re formulating the steps in your head. From movies you watched religiously to mindlessly shuffling your own feet late at night, you danced for the little girl who longed to have fun, who longed to be free.
You’re clicking the heels of your boots against the ground, moving your hips as fluid as water, and bringing your hands up just for them to slide down your sides with a heart-stopping smile tugging at your lips.
Violet’s in awe, because her girl’s fearless and full of smiles, and she couldn’t be happier for you.
And there’s no doubt in her mind that this is the only girl she’ll ever want, need, crave.
She whistles, looking up and down with the most amused expression you’ve ever encountered. “Jesus, alright you win, doll.”
“Yeah?” The tease comes out a bit breathless, but you play it off as dancing too wildly.
You look at the pink haired beauty through thick lashes. Inching dangerously closer as you sway, Violet’s hands have a powerful hold on your soft waist. You stumble over your feet once, then twice, and she notices.
“Slow down there cowgirl,” she chuckles, but her gaze is tender under the carefree mask. “You alright?”
It’s unbearably toasty in the room, and you feel two times hotter with each passing second. But you don’t want it to end, so you wave her off, throwing out an “I’m good!”
But you’re not, and it’s evident on your face when the small ‘headache’ turns to tight pressure smothering your scalp, and you’re losing your balance as you search for an exit.
“I just need some air,” you mumble, turning your head. The room shifted under your feet, vision blurring in a haze. You took three measly steps forward, and on your fourth, you crumbled.
Your body gives out under you, and Vi’s right there to catch you when it does. Her arms snake around your waist to hold you up before she lifts you in her arms with big eyes and wavering lips.
“Shit. Ekko, come here! Powder, go get Mylo and Claggor.”
The five haul ass to Vi’s truck, the pinkette tossing her keys to Ekko as he and Mylo hop in the front. She, Claggor, and Powder take seats in the bed of the truck. When you finally come to, your back is laid against Vi’s worrisome chest, and you get the fresh air you were looking for from the speed Ekko’s driving to get you home.
But when you pull into the driveway of your home, there’s already a car waiting for you, and there stands your father with his arms crossed and pure fury in his eyes.
And you’re in so much fucking trouble.
The others attempt to plead your case, in good ways and in bad, as the man scolds everyone in sight.
“Mister, we just went out to dance.”
“She’s not a child you know, you can’t keep her cooped up here forever.”
“Please just understand.”
Everything goes in one ear and out the other, because in the chaos silently sits you and Violet. You’re still breathless, and this headache is gonna last longer than you want it to, but you relax into the warmth of Vi for one last time.
You pull back, ignoring the spike of pain that flashes across your brain, and turn to the girl with a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry, you guys should just go.”
She looks pained, like she wants to say something, she wants to help. But she nods, placing a chaste kiss to your temple just as you’re sliding out of the truck bed and over to your father. He hastily drags you inside while you bid farewell to your moping knights.
With every inch of your worn down heart, you love Violet Lane.
And you’re not an idiot, you’re sure she loves you too.
That’s what makes coming to a conclusion impossible on almost every level.
Your physical heart says this is the most idiotic decision you’ve made in your entire life. You’ve had worse symptoms than normal, you’re putting yourself in danger in the name of ‘fun’, and the thought that’s lingering in the back of everyone’s mind is one you can’t ignore: just how long will you make it?
Your mental heart says this is the best thing you’ve ever done. You’re happy, you’re in love, you have real friends, and you’re finally starting to see the point in living. Not just from a tv screen or the books your father supplies, but through your own eyes and experiences. And even though your father seemed overbearing, you know he’s afraid. He’s taken on all of the worry and stress so that you don’t have to. If you wanted something to change, you had to take the leap yourself. But you’re not sure you can.
There’s six knocks at the door, and you stay seated in your position on the couch. “It’s open,” you call out.
The clack of familiar boots enter the room, and a wave of musk and amber suffocate you when Vi walks past you to sit at your side.
It’s silent. Not your comfortable, daydream filled state of silence that Vi could watch you in forever. It’s awkward, strangulating silence, and she can’t take it.
“Yesterday was..”
“...amazing.” “A mistake.”
You speak at the same time, eyes flickering at each other's response.
“What are you talking about?” Vi asks, setting her textbooks down. You don’t miss the newfound waver in the back of her voice.
You don’t respond. You don’t want to go through with this conversation.
“..Is this about the hickey?” she flashes a strained smile, “I’m sorry if he saw it, doll. Reall–”
“This isn’t a joke, Violet.” you finally speak, eyes strictly trained down on your fiddling hands in your lap. The tears are bubbling at your eyelids and that itchy, sore feeling is crawling its way up your throat.
“Then what is it about? You and your dad? Look, I can talk to him, I’ll make things right.” Her voice is increasingly wavered, desperate, scared.
“Our–” you inhale a shaky breath, “– this, us, whatever we are is an inconvenience. An inconvenience to my father, an inconvenience to my health, an inconvenience to you.” Your voice breaks with the last word. “I’m a burden Violet, face it.”
You can’t see it with the tears blurring your vision, but Vi’s shaking her head in horror. “No. No, what are you going on about? You aren–”
“God just face it, Vi. All you wanted was to love a girl and you got a defective one.” You spit the words out like they sting on your tongue. “Soon, you’ll be annoyed by everything I can’t do and bored of everything I can.”
“Maybe we’re just not…” you can’t continue as silent tears transform into quiet little sobs.
Vi’s heart aches as she kneels down on the floor in front of you, examining your now puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. She wants nothing more than to kiss the pain away, but first she has to fix that worrisome little mind of yours.
One hand intertwines with your anxious ones, and the other reaches up as rough fingers delicately hold your chin, a soft thumb rubs back and forth against your cheek. She whispers out your name with a voice that’s holding back sadness of her own. When you’re finally ready to look at her, she smiles delicately.
“You don’t know how bad I want you. But I’ll wait until the end of time if you ask me to. I’d lasso the moon and bring it down for you if you asked.” You recognize her sweet words from your first date, and you’re weakly melting into the palm of her hand that’s sliding to cup your face.
“I meant it then, and I mean it now,” she whispers. “I will never be annoyed by what you can or can’t do– god, I'd sit here and talk to you about slugs all day everyday if that’s what you really wanted.” That has you scoffing, fighting back a smile at her silly words.
“Love isn’t about the activities you can or can’t do, it’s about a connection, our connection, and what we do with it. So, you can get rid of me if this is all true and that’s what you really want, but I will never stop loving you.” She’s speaking so sweetly, and before she even finishes her sentence you’ve made up your mind.
“You’re good for my heart, cherry.”
Those are the last words she can get out before you’re throwing yourself forward and locking lips with the love of your life.
It starts off slow, soft, an apology for the rollercoaster of emotions and blunder of nonsense you put yourselves through. Then, Vi’s hands are cupping your face and the back of your head while yours are thrown around her neck. It’s needier, sloppier, and her tongue slipping into your mouth shows it’s moved from an apology to ‘let me make you feel better’.
You hum into the kisses with pleasure, but you wanted more. Needed more. Without hesitation, you slip a hand under Vi’s tight t-shirt, running a hand up and down her abs.
The action sends a shiver down her spine, and you gasp in surprise when the sculpted girl wraps your legs around her waist and lifts you into her arms.
You’re giggling as she walks up the stairs and into your bedroom. Your litter smooches down her jaw and to that neglected neck, mimicking what she’s done for you. Vi slips a hand under the back of your shirt, making you hum into her neck at the warmth.
Pop.
A devilish grin graces your angelic face when you pull back, eyes flickering from Violet’s to the bruise on her neck.
The girl grins, catching your mouth in a wet kiss. “You’re asking for more, y’know,” she warns, and her lustful eyes are turning your brain to mush.
“Good. I want more. Need you all over me,”
Your confident words are canceled out by a sweet gasp that leaves you when Vi bucks her hips.
“You’ve gotta say it then,” she orders.
“Say.. what?”
She chuckles. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
You swear there’s a pool of slick in your underwear.
“Want you to fuck me till I cum, please please please,” you beg, hiding in the crook of her neck.
“Fuck,” is all she can choke out, because she’s never wanted wanted a girl this fucking much. Your begging is all she needs to hear before she’s stripping you out of your top, unclasping your pretty bra with one hand, and flipping you over onto your back.
You’re throwing your head back with a soft moan, running a hand through her pink strands while Vi latches onto one of your rock hard nipples. Her hand trails down your abdomen and to your pretty little skirt. The fabric slides down your legs and off your delicate ankles, and the girl’s gawking at your panties.
“Vi, please please,” you moan in impatience.
She lets out a cruel chuckle, fingertips pulling down the fabric that’s completely drenched by your arousal.
Holy fuck.
She’s moving faster now, pulling her shirt over her head, and you don’t have a chance to drool over her bare muscles as she sits against the headboard of the bed and pulls you back by your hips into her lap.
Your back’s pressed against her chest, and she pulls your legs apart making cool air attacking your lips. One arm hooks under your knee and holds tight, making sure you stay perfectly spread for her.
“Suck,” she whispers, and two of her calloused fingers are shoved in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the nubs, letting drool pool around them as Vi looks down at you like she wants to ravish you.
“Wanted to touch you like this for so long.”
Her fingers are dragging out of your mouth and down to your sensitive slit to your swollen clit. You’re already messily bucking your hips against her as she pushes soft circles against your bundle of nerves.
She relishes in the way your eyes roll back before she decides she’s done being a tease, sinking her wet fingers into you three full knuckles deep.
“Violet– holy fuck yesyesyes,” you whine, quickly closing your legs at the newfound pleasure. But Vi’s pulling them right back apart as she pumps into you faster.
She peppers kisses on your temple, whispering sweet nothings about how you’re ‘so damn pretty’ and she’s been dying to see your ‘fucked out face’.
“Yeah, oh fuuck.” you squirm under her control, a knot of passion and pleasure building in your gut.
“Yeah? Yeah, baby?” She speaks breathily. The way she’s mocking you and the depth her fingers are reaching is sending you right over the edge. Your toes curl while writhing pleasure shoots through your body, and all you can see is stars.
“Fuck fuck, I’m– hah,”
Vi’s shushing you softly, keeping her speed and strength as your cunt tightens around her fingers.
Your moans are like angels blessing your ears as you cum, gushing on her skilled fingers.
The only noises in the room are your exhausted pants, the slick of your cunt as Vi pulls her fingers out terribly slow, and the bed shifting under the absence and reappearance of pure muscle.
Except this time, the pinkette’s knelt in front of the bed.
She pulls you to the edge by the soft skin of your thighs, and piercing blue eyes joined by a warm pink tongue threaten to have you wheel-chair bound by morning.
“Let me clean you up, angel.”
Despite being near nothing but muscle, Vi’s bare body is incredibly comfortable.
“And he made a giant splotch of paint on the wall with his ass.”
You gasp, choking out a little giggle of shock as Vi tells you stories of her childhood, specifically all the stupid situations they got themselves into. The just-right bath water is engulfing your intertwined bodies. Vi’s fingers are threading through your hair as your head rests on her shoulder. Your body sits in between her legs, and your arms lazily drape around her waist.
“How mad was Vander?” you ask.
“He just… laughed. I’ve never really seen him mad, just disappointed at times.” She shrugs. “He knows kids make stupid mistakes, learn, and grow.”
You hum, nuzzling further into her. “I hope I’m that calm when I’m a mom,”
You pause.
“If I’m a mom.”
That strikes right through Violet’s swollen heart, and she shakes her head, holding you a little closer.
“You’re gonna be perfect.” She reassures. “Josie.. Gunner.. Rusty, Daisy, and our big beautiful city house are going to be so lucky to have you. I’m so lucky to have you. Never gettin’ rid of me.
You smile against her skin, placing a loving kiss.
“Even if it takes ages for my pops to understand?” you mutter.
“I don’t care if it takes a millennium.” she states confidently, a tender kiss graces your forehead before she looks you in the eyes.
“I love you, cherry.”
And this time, you’re done holding back.
“I love you, Violet.”
Your fingers, hearts, and lips intertwined as you share your most passionate kiss yet, one of the many for years to come.
Five years, to be exact.
And five years later, as the blood refuses to circulate throughout your body and your heart ceases to beat, you die in Violet's arms.
Through her sobs and shattered heart, she can only smile at the fact that all the way until your death, she helped you truly live.
silknspice
#vi x reader#vi arcane#arcane fanfic#arcane#vi fanfic#vi smut#wlw#sapphic#vi imagines#arcane vi x reader#vi league of legends
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BIRTHDAY GIRL
Caitlyn x f!reader
Synopsis: It is Caitlyn’s birthday, and you wanted to make it perfect, especially as her girlfriend, even if you made it a bit excessive.
A/N: Just had to write something for this woman’s birthday (she turned 24/25 in the fanfic).
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of Caitlyn’s bedroom, painting the room in shades of gold and lavender. You perched carefully on the edge of the bed, balancing a tray loaded with breakfast delights: fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, perfectly scrambled eggs, fresh fruit arranged in a neat fan, and a steaming cup of coffee. A single rose sat in a vase beside it all, adding a touch of elegance Caitlyn would certainly notice.
Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently nudge her shoulder. “Caitlyn,” you said softly, your voice warm with anticipation. “Time to wake up, birthday girl.”
She stirred, her brows knitting slightly before her lashes fluttered open. Her soft blue eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto yours. “What’s all this?” she murmured, her voice low and drowsy.
“Good morning to you, too,” you teased with a grin. “Breakfast in bed, because today’s your day, and I plan on spoiling you properly.”
A smile crept across her lips as she sat up, her hair falling in tousled waves around her face. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said, though the soft blush coloring her cheeks told you she was already touched.
“Oh, but I did,” you replied, placing the tray on her lap. “You only turn, uh, twenty-something once.”
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re terrible at this guessing game.”
“Terrible at guessing, sure. Great at making you smile, though,” you said with a wink.
“Did you really forget my age though, baby?” She joked while looking back down at the tray.
“Pssh, no, I was just joking, Mrs. 25 years old.”
Caitlyn chuckled again, her elegant fingers wrapping around the coffee mug. She took a careful sip, her eyes closing briefly in appreciation. “Perfect, as always. What would I do without you?”
“Probably forget it was your birthday,” you teased.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fair point.”
As she ate, you stayed close, enjoying the peaceful morning with her. Every bite seemed to make her more at ease, her usual sharp and focused demeanor replaced with something softer, more relaxed. It wasn’t often Caitlyn allowed herself to be doted on, but today, she accepted it gracefully.
Once the tray was empty, Caitlyn set it aside and reached for your hand. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sincere. “This was a lovely way to start the day.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” you said, leaning in to kiss her lightly. “The day’s just getting started.”
Her lips quirked up in amusement. “Should I be worried?”
“Not at all,” you promised. “Just be ready for a few surprises later.”
She gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Well, I’m intrigued.”
After Caitlyn left for work, the real madness began. Piltover’s streets were their usual chaotic blend of merchants shouting, tinkers advertising their wares, and enforcers patrolling with sharp eyes. You darted between stalls and shops, collecting everything you needed for the evening: golden and sapphire balloons, streamers, candles, and a perfectly wrapped present hidden inside your bag. The pièce de résistance, however, was the cake.
The bakery owner handed it to you carefully, the chocolate confection topped with elegant swirls of frosting and decorated with delicate candied flowers. “You’ve got good taste,” she said with a grin.
“Thanks,” you replied. “She deserves the best.”
By mid-afternoon, your apartment was a bustling hub of activity. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, the banner proudly declaring HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAITLYN! in bold letters. The table was set with plates, utensils, and the centerpiece cake surrounded by tiny party favors. You even managed to string up fairy lights along the windows for extra charm.
The doorbell rang just as you adjusted the final balloon. When you opened it, Vi stood on the other side, holding a small, poorly wrapped box. “You know, you’re making the rest of us look bad with all this effort,” she joked, stepping inside.
“Somebody has to,” you teased back. “And Caitlyn deserves it.”
Vi smirked but didn’t argue, setting her gift on the table. “She’s lucky to have you.”
The guests trickled in after that, which were Caitlyn’s colleagues, Ekko, Jayce and Viktor, even Jinx (who, after a stern warning from Vi, promised not to set anything on fire). The room filled with laughter and chatter, the perfect backdrop for the celebration ahead.
When the clock struck 7:00, Caitlyn’s key turned in the door. You quickly shushed everyone, the room falling silent as the door creaked open.
“Hello?” Caitlyn called, her tone cautious.
“Surprise!” everyone shouted, the room erupting in cheers.
Caitlyn froze, her wide eyes darting across the sea of smiling faces and the colorful decorations. When her gaze landed on you, standing front and center with a proud grin, her expression softened into something you couldn’t quite describe—relief, happiness, and love all wrapped into one.
“You did all this?” she asked, stepping further into the room.
“Of course,” you said, walking up to meet her. “Happy birthday, Cait.”
She hesitated for only a moment before pulling you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you,” she murmured into your ear. “This is perfect.”
The party was a smashing success. Caitlyn blew out her candles to a raucous chorus of “Happy Birthday,” her cheeks pink with embarrassment but her smile never wavering. She opened her presents with genuine delight, though Vi’s gag gift (a questionable sweater) earned an exaggerated groan.
As the evening wore on and the guests began to filter out, you found Caitlyn sitting on the couch, the soft glow of the fairy lights framing her silhouette. You joined her, leaning into her side as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“You really went above and beyond today,” she said softly.
“I wanted it to be special,” you replied. “You deserve that.”
She looked down at you, her sapphire eyes catching the light. “You make every day special, you know.”
You felt your cheeks flush but didn’t look away. “That’s because you make it easy.”
She laughed quietly, then leaned down to kiss you. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made time feel irrelevant. When she pulled back, her expression was tender.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, you didn’t complain when I started leaving coffee at your desk every morning.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “That was bribery, and you know it.”
“Worked, didn’t it?”
She kissed you again, cutting off whatever witty comeback you might’ve had.
The night ended with the two of you curled up together under a blanket, the remnants of the party scattered around the room. Caitlyn’s hand traced gentle patterns on your arm as you rested your head against her chest.
“This was the best birthday I’ve ever had,” she murmured, her voice soft and content.
“I’m glad,” you said, snuggling closer. “You deserve it, Cait.”
She kissed your temple, her lips lingering. “You’re my favorite part of today.”
“And you’re mine,” you replied, tilting your head to meet her gaze.
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the glow of the fairy lights and the faint scent of cake in the air, you knew this day would be one to remember.
A/N: Happy birthday Caitlyn (and any others who also have the same one!)
#Caitlyn x you#Caitlyn x reader#Caitlyn fanfic#caitlyn kirammann#caitlyn kiramman x you#Caitlyn#Caitlyn arcane#arcane caitlyn#arcane fanfic#arcane#lesbian fanfic#lesbian#fluffy fanfic#fluff#birthday fanfic#birthday#happy birthday caitlyn!!#fanfic#fanfic writing
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Also like. I've had a child run into traffic and almost be hit by a car while in my care. It was terrifying both for her and for me. She was angry that we were leaving the park and she wanted to keep playing, so she ran away and didn't think about where she was going.
I followed her into the street, yelling for the car to stop, grabbed her by the shirt in one hand and shoulder in the other and pulled her towards me, hard. Then I scooped her up in both arms, held her very tightly so her thrashing wouldn't make me drop her, and ran back to the sidewalk where I sat on the ground and held onto her while apologizing profusely.
She yelled for me to let her go and I calmly told her I wanted to let her go but I needed her to promise not to run into the street like that again. She said she promised and I let her go. She stormed off, and then about a minute later she came back in tears and hugged me and said "thank you for grabbing me". She was eight.
When kids do things that are dangerous and scary, respond accordingly. It wouldn't have done any good for me or her mom or dad later to hit her. She saw the car. She saw the look on my face. She was scared, too. Later while we walked home I told her I was sorry for grabbing her so hard and asked if she was angry with me and if she understood why I did what I did. She told me she wasn't mad and that she understood and she was sorry for scaring me.
If kids are old enough to talk to you and be heard and understood, they're old enough for you to talk to them and to understand you.
And if they aren't able to talk or understand, then what the hell is the point of hurting them? It's just cruel.
When people get pregnant, they will give up smoking, give up alcohol, give up coffee and soda, give up fondue and raw cheese, give up cold cuts and sushi, all because they have heard somewhere, from someone, that these things can be bad for the baby. They don’t know the research, haven’t looked at the studies, can’t talk about sample sizes and control groups. But their dedication to their future child’s safety is so strong, their caution is so overpowering, that they give up these things just in case.
So it baffles me when those same people will insist on spanking their kids.
Even when they are shown the research.
Regardless of what the experts in the field say.
No matter who says it.
Or how it is said.
People are so invested in this ability to hit their kids without judgement or consequence, that it absolutely confounds me.
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JJK Men When They Get Jealous
Angst, fluff
Request from Wattpad
JJK Men x gn!reader
Warnings: slight cussing
A/N: some scenarios you're already dating, others you aren't!
Yuji:
“2 for Human Earthworm please!”
Yuji’s voice rang out as he bought tickets for your movie date. Your eyes gazed at his friendly face, standing close enough to his side to smell his cologne but not too close to impede his ability to pull out his wallet. Were you excited to see this movie for the umpteenth time? Not really, but it was a special anniversary release and Yuji was so pumped to watch it on the big screen again and you weren't going to ruin his fun. Besides, you couldn't say no to his adorable pouty face.
"Yuji! They have the special popcorn buckets here!" you exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the snack bar's offerings from your spot at the ticket counter. His eyes widened in shock.
"No way! They aren't sold out yet?" he asked incredulously. You moved from your place next to him and began speed walking over to the snack bar; there was no way he could miss out on this rare opportunity. Thankfully you had gotten in line when you did because there were hoards of people now queuing behind you, all eager to get their hands on the limited merchandise. When it was finally your turn, you were greeted by the worker, a boy who looked to be your age.
"Hello! What can I get for you today?"
"One earthworm bucket, please," you requested. He nodded, digging behind the counter. After what seemed like much too long, the employee finally procured what you were after.
"You're in luck! This is the last one," he said, handing it to you and giving you a smile. "Do you think I could be lucky enough to go on a date with you sometime?"
Surprised at his boldness, you let out a chuckle. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."
"Your... oh."
You felt an arm land on your shoulders and knew it was Yuji.
"Awesome! You got the bucket!" he exclaimed to you, a huge grin on his face. "You're the best partner ever!" He then turned to the worker who busied himself with getting your popcorn. "I think I'm the lucky one here."
You internally laughed at Yuji's jealousy shining through. It was rare for him to feel that way, but when he did, he immediately made it clear to everyone that you two were happily exclusive.
When you eventually got to your seats in the theater, Yuji's arm never leaving you, you leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss. "You're cute when you're jealous."
"Me? Jealous? I wasn't..." He stopped when he noticed you eyeing him. "You're right. I'm sorry, that was dumb of me."
"No it wasn't. But there's no need to worry, you're the only guy I would ever willingly sit through the same movie a million and one times for."
Now it was Yuji's turn to give your cheek a kiss. "Like I said before, I'm the lucky one to be able to call you mine."
Megumi:
Your headphones were blaring your favorite song, drowning out the noise of the world around you. You were waiting for your boyfriend, Megumi, to meet you so you could explore Tokyo together. Swaying your head to the beat of the music, you didn’t register anyone standing near you until you felt someone tap your shoulder.
“It’s about time you got here,” you joked, taking your headphones off and turning to greet a familiar face. You weren’t expecting to see a stranger behind you and you slightly jumped from the shock.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the boy apologized, smiling gently. “I just wanted to ask you for some directions.”
“Oh, of course. I’m happy to help,” you responded.
“Great! I’m trying to get to this shrine.” The boy pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the screen displaying where he was trying to go. “Are you familiar with it?”
“Actually, yes. So what you want to do is go down this street…”
You told him the directions and typed it in his phone for him just in case he didn’t catch everything you said.
“I hope that helped,” you said, giving him his phone back. He glanced down and you could tell he gave the directions a once over.
“Everything alright?” you asked, seeing as he was hesitant to leave your side.
“I was hoping you had written your phone number in the notes too,” he told you. “I think you’re really cute.”
“Oh! I’m flattered, really, but I actually have a boyfriend.”
The boy was about to respond but all of a sudden his entire vibe changed; he was calm just a few moments earlier which was now replaced with nervousness.
“Right, right! Yeah, that makes sense. Um, thanks for the directions. I’m just gonna…”
The boy practically ran off, leaving you extremely confused. It wasn’t until you felt a menacing aura surround you that you realized the reason for the boy’s abrupt departure.
“That dumbass can’t find a shrine that’s not even a mile away and he wastes his time flirting?” grumbled Megumi, obviously irritated at your previous interaction.
“Jealous Fushiguro has made an appearance,” you teased, earning a glare from your dark haired boyfriend.
“I’m not jealous of a guy like that,” he argued, his defensive body language telling a whole other story from his words. You just shook your head and gave Megumi a quick kiss on his cheek.
“You’re the only one I could ever want. I promise.”
Megumi’s cheeks blossomed pink as he turned his focus away from you, looking into the distance.
“I know,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his. Now he was determined to make this the best date you’d ever been on—so much so that you wouldn’t remember giving that guy directions in the first place.
Yuta:
You and your friend Yuta decided to go ice skating together, wanting to have some stereotypical winter fun at the local rink. You two were deep in conversation until someone else’s voice and a tug at your scarf pulled you back into paying attention to your surroundings.
“I like your scarf,” a boy around your age said, smiling widely at you. “It’s almost as cute as you are.”
“Thank you,” you replied, a bit flustered, “that’s very kind of you.”
He chuckled and skated away, leaving you and Yuta alone again.
“Sorry about that, Yuta, what were you saying?”
He dove right back into where he left off, but his vibe was slightly off; he seemed upset for some reason. You didn’t mention it, figuring he might just be cold or something.
The boy who flirted with you kept skating by the entire session, shooting you winks or smiling at you. You didn’t notice Yuta glaring daggers at him from beside you.
Your time on the ice was about to expire so you and Yuta made one last circle, laughing at a joke you had made. You didn’t notice a dip in the ice and you stumbled backward. You hit the ground with a thud, slightly dazed from your fall.
“Are you alright?” Yuta asked, concern evident in his voice as he turned around to help you up. Unfortunately for him, the other boy was skating right behind you and was about to offer you his hand.
“Do you need-”
“Y/n! Let me help you up,” Yuta said, out of breath from skating as fast as he possibly could over to your position, grabbing onto your arm and hoisting you off the ice before the boy could even finish his sentence. He kept a protective grip on your body, scowling at the boy, until you were out of your skates and back into your normal shoes. Afterwards, you and Yuta walked to a local cafe for a much needed warm drink.
“Did you know that guy from somewhere? You didn’t seem to like him,” you observed.
“I don’t. He just… seemed like a jerk, that’s all,” he responded quickly, his voice higher than usual.
“Were you jealous?” you asked suddenly. Yuta’s face was now bright red and you didn’t think it was because of the cold.
“Me? I, uh… maybe?” he answered, unsure of the right thing to say. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate.
“Well, you see, I…” Yuta sighed, defeated. “I really like you and I hated watching him flirt with you so brazenly. I know it was wrong of me to be so rude but I couldn’t stand the thought of you with him. I’m sorry.”
He kicked at a few rocks at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact with you.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Yuta,” you answered softly, catching his attention, “I really like you too.”
His eyes went wide. “You do?”
You nodded in affirmation as he let out a breath of relief, his shy smile shining brighter than the reflection of the sun on ice.
Inumaki:
It was a warm spring day and you were in the school’s garden, basking in the sun. You opened an eye to see who it was disturbing your peace with their footsteps, but it was Inumaki; you smiled kindly at him and made room for him on the bench. You two loved to sit together, often in silence, and observe the beauty of nature.
“Kelp,” he greeted softly, a small wave sent your way as he sat next to you.
“It’s always nice to see you, Toge,” you said back, closing your eyes once more as you breathed in the scent of flowers.
Like usual, his presence was a comfort to you and you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on his shoulder in a display of your affection for him. Before you could let that happen, though, you heard another pair of footsteps approach and you quickly brought yourself out of your daydream.
“Hey Inumaki! Y/n!” Yuta called out, joining you in the garden.
“Yuta! Hello!” you greeted back while Inumaki waved at him.
“I can’t stay too long because I have to study but I brought something for you, y/n,” he said, smiling sweetly as he procured a tiny bag from his pocket, handing it to you. “They’re seeds. The owner of a shop I was at today was giving them out and supposedly the flowers are your favorite color so I figured you could plant them somewhere here in the garden.”
“Yuta! Oh my gosh, thank you!” you replied, giving him a hug in your excitement.
“It’s really nothing,” he said, a tiny blush appearing on his cheeks. “Well, I have to go, but I hope to see you both soon!”
You both bid him goodbye as you pocketed the seeds, eager to get the okay from the school to plant the flowers. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him but Inumkai seemed to have some sort of inner turmoil brewing after the short meeting; you could sense the hurt emanating from him.
“What’s wrong?” you wondered, curious as to what brought those feelings on all of a sudden.
“Cheesy,” was all he said, turning away from you.
“Aww, is someone jealous?” you asked with a chuckle.
“Bonito flakes,” Toge quickly grumbled, not meeting your gaze.
“You’re a horrible liar, you know,” you teased, pushing against his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be. Yuta’s not the one I have feelings for. You are, remember? Or do I have to confess all over again?”
You leaned over and tugged his collar down the slightest bit, planting a kiss on his cheek. Inumkai’s gaze landed on you once more as he gripped one of your hands tightly and typed on his phone with his other hand, saying:
I’m sorry, that was super lame of me. Yuta’s cool and that was nice of him to bring those for you. But TRUST it will be ME helping you plant those flowers.
And I’ll pick one to bring to you every morning when they’ve bloomed🙂↕️😌
“You really are my dream man,” you said, resting your head in his lap as you finally fell asleep in the comfort of the sun and Toge.
Noritoshi:
It was lunchtime at the Kyoto school and you found yourself in the shared kitchen with your classmate Noritoshi.
“Whatcha making?” you wondered, peering over his shoulder.
“Ramen,” came his answer, short and to the point as always. You watched him closely, taking in his every move.
“Do you not know how to cook and that’s why you’re staring me down?” he asked with a slightly annoyed expression.
“I do know how to cook, thank you very much. You’re just interesting to observe.”
Before he could ask what you meant by that, Todo came waltzing in.
“Todo! Just the person I wanted to see,” you greeted. “Do you want to make lunch with me?”
He heartily agreed and you two got to work, pulling out various pots and pans as Noritoshi finished making his own dish and sat down to eat. You and Todo were having the time of your lives, joking around and laughing while creating your meal. Noritoshi, on the other hand, was trying his best not to frown any more than he did on a usual day.
Or puke.
Noritoshi watched the way you lit up with Todo, having the time of your life doing something so mundane, and he desperately wished he wasn’t unnecessarily cold to you minutes earlier.
When your lunch was finally cooked, Todo took his food outside while you stayed in with Noritoshi, taking up the spot next to him. Normally he made some sort of remark about how loud or dirty you were in the kitchen, but today he was quiet.
“You seem bothered by something. Did I upset you?” you asked. His hair made a swishing noise as he turned to you.
“Why would you have upset me?”
“I don’t know. I always seem to, anyway,” you said with a tiny chuckle, taking a bite of your food.
“Not today, you didn’t. I’m dealing with something personal.”
“You can tell me if you want. I’m a person, you know.”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your playful demeanor. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because it’s about you, okay?”
His eyes grew wide when he realized he admitted that out loud. You chewed quietly, hoping he would continue.
“The way you and Todo effortlessly get along, I don’t understand it. I’m envious of your relationship with him. Sometimes I wish…” He stopped for a second. “All of the time I wish that was you and me. I want to be the one that makes your eyes light up like that.”
“Noritoshi, I never knew you felt that way,” you responded after a few seconds of silence.
“Yeah, that was sort of my goal,” he replied, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.
“I’ve actually had a crush on you for a long time,” you said bashfully, surprising him further. “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”
“If you still have feelings for me after my lame confession,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “then I’d be even more of a fool to turn you down.”
Todo:
Standing in line to meet your favorite idol, you and Aoi were brimming with excited energy. You loved that you could bond with your boyfriend over your mutual love for Takada, including doing all of the super fan activities like waiting in line for hours on end. You turned around to look at the buildings behind you, wanting a view different from the one you’d been staring at since early that morning.
“Woah, seeing your face for the first time was like a breath of the finest spring air. You’re stunning,” said the man directly behind you in line. You couldn’t believe he was hitting on you with your six-foot-something, muscly beast of a boyfriend standing next to you, but you took the comment in stride—it didn’t hurt to be complimented by others every once in awhile! Todo never cared either, nor were you bothered by the looks of admiration he received from men and women alike while you two strolled any given street.
“You’re very kind, thank you,” you responded. He asked what your favorite song of Takada’s was, and from there you two engaged in small talk. He was super nice and very interesting, telling you facts about the various buildings in the downtown area you were at, along with lesser known Takada trivia.
“Next time Takada is in town,” he started, “we should go to the event together. If I could get your number-”
All of a sudden, Aoi turned around and cracked his knuckles, an intimidating look present on his face.
“You better back off or I’ll make sure all your teeth are missing in your meet and greet photo with Takada-chan,” he told the man, who let out a scared squeal, gulping and nodding. Aoi put a protective arm around your shoulder as he spun you forward once more.
“I never thought I’d see the day of you being jealous,” you teased, leaning your head against him.
“Me neither, but I guess that’s the only con of having such an attractive partner,” he replied, a determined expression on his face. “No one can get between my love for you and Takada-chan.”
Ino:
You were standing in line at a cafe with Ino, eager to get your hands on a warm drink to ease the bite of the winter chill. Snuggling up to the man next to you, you leaned your head against his shoulder while waiting in the impossibly long line. Ino gave your forehead a chaste kiss but pulled away in an instant.
“Babe! Your skin is freezing!” he all but yelled.
“You’re being dramatic,” you said with an eye roll. Without a second thought, he reached for your hands and, upon feeling the cold skin there as well, let go immediately.
“Your hands are freezing, too! Lemme buy you some gloves.”
“Ino, that’s really not necessary, I’m fine-”
“Be right back! Order for me, would ya?” he called out, leaving you shaking your head in amusement. That man would steal the sun for you if he thought you needed the extra light to read.
As you predicted, the line was at a standstill for quite awhile. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited for either Ino to come back and entertain you or for you to finally occupy your cold mouth with a hot drink. After many minutes of boredom, the line started moving and it was your turn to order. You told the employee the two drinks you wanted and paid, thanking him.
“What’s the name for the drinks?” he asked, eyeing you in a manner you found a bit suspicious.
“Y/n.”
“I’ll let you know when those are ready, y/n,” he answered, putting an uncomfortable emphasis on your name.
“…Yeah. Thanks,” you said apprehensively.
As you waited for the drinks to be made, you anxiously glanced around but there was no sign of Ino. Maybe gloves weren’t easy to find around this neighborhood?
After what felt like another eternity, your name was called and you approached the drink counter. The employee handed you the drinks and you tried to ignore the glaringly obvious phone number.
“Call me sometime, yeah?” he suggested, a smirk resting on his lips.
You glanced at the cup with his phone number scrawled on it, raising your eyebrows. “Thanks so much for that. Since this is his drink, I’ll let my boyfriend know you’re interested in him.”
“Oh-that’s not-I didn’t-” the employee floundered with embarrassment as you left with a laugh, taking your drinks to Ino who must have made his way back into the cafe sometime during the whole ordeal.
“Here’s a pair of gloves,” Ino greeted you, his smile not at all reaching his eyes like it normally does. You thanked him profusely as you set his drink in front of him and put on the gloves, relishing in the warmth they brought you.
“What’s wrong? You seem sad. Did something happen while you were out?” you questioned, worried for him.
“No, no. It’s nothing. I’m being dumb.”
You furrowed your brows and took a sip of your drink. “No way it’s nothing. I can tell something’s bothering you. I wanna help.”
“Well, I…” Ino stopped and took in a deep breath. “You were laughing with that employee and I see that he gave you his phone number and now I’m feeling a type of way about it.”
Ino looked away, almost ashamed as he sipped from his drink as well. You quickly reached for his unoccupied hand.
“Oh, Ino, you have it all wrong. I was laughing at him for putting his number on your drink. I certainly wasn’t interested in him and you have nothing to be jealous over.” You gave his hand a squeeze as his big eyes looked into yours. “You’re the only man I could ever want. You’re the one who treats me like royalty. Who else would brave the cold like you did to buy me a pair of gloves when I have too many pairs that I left at home?”
“Probably not that guy,” Ino mumbled, his cheeks pink.
“Definitely not that guy,” you said with a smile, bringing his hand to your lips and giving it a kiss. “Now, enjoy your drink. I had to brave his idiocracy to get it to you.”
Gojo:
You didn’t know what kind of gods were listening to you or what kind of magic you possessed, but somehow you managed to have both Gojo and Nanami over at your place for dinner one night. You were close friends with both and loved to hang out with them any time you could.
You and Nanami were currently chopping up vegetables while Gojo watched from afar, playing games on his phone. You and Nanami worked quietly and efficiently while Gojo huffed.
“Am I going to be banished over here forever?” he wondered.
“Yes,” you and Nanami answered in tandem, moving around each other perfectly as you dumped the vegetables into a pan and he put the scraps in the compost bin.
“It’s not fair. I’m an adult too, you know,” he complained. Nanami gave you a look before raising an eyebrow at Gojo.
“Are we sure about that?” he said, earning another grumble from Gojo.
“Satoru, you can help me cook the meat if you’d like,” you offered, not wanting to ostracize the poor man. It’s not his fault he’s horrible at cooking! Maybe if you supervised, he’d learn something today.
He learned that fire alarms are loud and you should never pour water on a grease fire.
“That could’ve gone… worse,” you reasoned, looking at the charred pile of what once was food in your pan.
Nanami pulled his apron off and his phone out. “I’m getting us takeout. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.” He pointed at Gojo as he stood in the doorway. “You better not burn this place down.”
When the door clicked closed, Gojo let out a long sigh as he put his head in his hands.
“I can’t believe I messed that up. You guys make cooking look so easy, especially when you’re in the kitchen together.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Satoru,” you told him, trying to salvage your pan, “we’ve cooked together a lot over the years. It doesn’t happen overnight.”
“The way you two moved together in sync. When I saw that I just wished it was…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, opting to rest his head against the table he was sitting at. You felt a tug at your heartstrings seeing him so dejected.
“Wished it was what?” you questioned, walking over to him and resting your hand on his back.
“Us,” he said plainly, lifting his head and blindfold up, his blue eyes sparkling. “I wish it was you and I like that. A team. Watching you and Nanami made me realize how much I want to spend my time with you, y/n. Be with you.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you serious?”
“For one of the first times in my life, yes,” he replied, his lips upturned in a smile.
You moved your hand from his back to his hair, ruffling it. “I’d like to be with you too, Satoru. We can figure out the logistics of what that means for us after our first task as a couple, which is to clean the pan you obliterated.”
“Can’t I just buy you a new one?” he groaned, standing up to help you.
“Nope.”
“I really do hate cooking.”
Geto:
With dropping temperatures came the chance for you to show off your warmest jackets as you strolled around the cold city streets. Today, you were wearing one of your favorites, made out of cozy, teddy bear-like fabric. You and Suguru had been walking along the streets together but he had stepped inside a shop to buy you both a hot drink. You opted to stand outside in the brisk air, enjoying the winter season to its fullest.
“Excuse me,” a man said, coming up to you, “I hate to bother you but I wanted to tell you I liked your jacket.”
“Oh! Thank you,” you replied, caught off guard by his compliment. He asked you a question and you two fell into conversation, the man helping you pass the time before your boyfriend was by your side once more.
“This might sound strange, but can I touch your jacket? It looks really soft,” he wondered, looking bashful.
“Go ahead,” you nodded, totally unbothered. He cautiously brought his fingertips to your arm and felt the fabric. Unfortunately for him, it was really bad timing.
“Step aside or I’ll rip your dirty fingers off your shameful hands one by one and force feed them to you,” Suguru chimed in, appearing before the man with a disconcertingly calm smile. The stranger scurried off, a look of horror stuck to his facial features, but he luckily survived this encounter with your boyfriend so you figured he’d be fine.
“Are you alright, my dear?” asked Suguru, handing you the two drinks while he straightened your jacket.
“I am, thank you. You’re scary when you’re jealous,” you observed, your stomach fluttering with butterflies over his display of protectiveness.
“Oh? That’s good to know,” he hummed airily, taking his drink in one hand and your hand in his other one. “That filth was lucky to escape with his life today. I was hesitant to do anything that might have spilled our drinks.”
“Thank you for this, by the way,” you said, gesturing to the cup.
“Anything for my one and only. Now, where did you buy that jacket? I’m going to get you a new one that’s unsoiled.”
Nanami:
“Y/nnnnn! I’m boredddd. You and Nanami should come shopping with me!”
Gojo was practically whining at you through the cellphone speaker. You rolled your eyes as you looked over at Kento, your boyfriend shoving his nose deeper into the morning newspaper he was reading.
“I don’t think Kento’s in the mood to go out right now, Satoru.”
“Well, how about you? C’mon, please?”
“Hold on. I’ll check with Kento.”
“Aww, do you need his permission-”
You ignored the teasing from the white haired man as Kento gave you a nod.
“That’s fine by me if you’d like to go. I have work to finish anyway.”
“Thank you,” you mouthed to him before answering Gojo. “Meet me at the train station in 10?”
“I’ll get there in 8,” he replied, ending the call. You gave Kento a kiss and left your shared apartment.
Late that evening you returned home, your arms full of bags.
“I take it you had a good time?” questioned Kento, his arms folded and eyebrows slightly raised. “You were gone quite some time.”
“Oh my gosh we had such a great time! Satoru took me everywhere. We started…”
As you recounted your day excitedly, Nanami’s heart felt heavier and heavier. Noticing his quietness, you stopped in your tracks.
“Kento? Are you alright?”
He sighed. “It’s nothing, really. It’s… juvenile.”
Your eyes softened as you took a seat next to him. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Another sigh. “You had a lovely outing with Gojo but I can’t remember the last time we had that much fun together. I’m… jealous of the way he has you smiling so much.”
“Kento, honey,” you soothed, putting your hand on his, “there’s no need to be jealous. Yes, my time with Satoru was exhilarating, but it was extremely exhausting. I much prefer the fun you and I have together; the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. You make me smile first thing in the morning all the way to the time I sleep and even in my dreams. You’re my favorite person to be with in this whole world and I’m sorry if my actions led you to assume otherwise.”
“You’re right. I was being silly. I’m sorry, too,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment.
“Hey, I got you a little something when I was out,” you told him, reaching into one of your bags. You pulled out a box and gave him a gentle kiss.
“I love you so much,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you in close.
Choso:
After looking through the peephole, you answered your door with a warm smile.
“Please, come in!”
Your landlord had come to collect your rent. He was a good natured guy with a kind wife and new baby; his apartment complex was nice as well, as was the reasonable price he charged per month so you had no complaints. You always liked to make small talk with him while you procured the envelope of cash you had lying around since he made for good company. You two spoke for a little while before you opened the door and said goodbye, knowing your boyfriend Choso should be coming up your steps at any moment.
All Choso saw as he walked up your stairs was a handsome young man leaving your apartment, making you laugh on his way out.
He didn’t like it.
At all.
“Who might you be?” he questioned the man, his voice carrying an underlying tinge of displeasure.
Your landlord put his hand out for Choso to shake. “I’m-”
“I’m Choso, y/n’s boyfriend,” he said with a glare, putting an emphasis on the last word. “We’ve been together for a while. A long while. Just so you know.”
“Choso,” you interjected before things could get any more awkward, “this is my landlord.”
Like a light was switched on in his brain, Choso’s eyes widened and he grasped your landlord’s hand that was still stretched out.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” he told him sheepishly, obviously embarrassed.
“You as well, Choso. If you’ll both excuse me, I have to get home to my wife and child. Have a great rest of your morning.”
As your landlord left down the steps, Choso was already inside, slumped on the couch.
“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned. You let out a tiny giggle.
“You went in pretty strong there, but I can’t say I blame you. It must’ve looked weird seeing a guy come out of my apartment so early in the morning. I would’ve been jealous too if I were in your shoes.”
“I wasn’t jealous!” he replied.
You raised your eyebrows. “Really? The way you emphasized boyfriend? Saying we’ve been together a long while? I would’ve thought you were going to fight him if I didn’t intervene.”
“I would’ve,” Choso spoke without hesitation.
“If he ever raises the rent,” you said, kissing his cheek, “I’ll gladly support that.”
Toji:
You were on your way to have lunch with your friend Toji when an attractive man your age waltzed up to you and struck up conversation as you walked to the cafe. Since you were single and he was cute enough, you let him entertain you on your journey. You could tell he was turning on the charm as much as he could, making you laugh at his silly quips. That lasted all the way until you bid him farewell when Toji came into view. Looking dejected at the goodbye, your admirer sauntered away.
“I didn’t get his number,” you thought to yourself, “what a shame. Oh well.”
You greeted Toji with a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you.
“I’m starving! Let’s order,” you told him, already browsing the menu the restaurant had posted outside.
“After you then,” Toji replied, opening the door for you.
You both ordered your food at the counter and sat at a table, talking about what you both had been up to in the time you hadn’t seen each other. You noticed Toji’s gaze wander away from you every so often, but you thought nothing of it—he had a very protective nature so he was probably keeping an eye on people he deemed suspicious. You got your answer of who he was watching at the end of your meal when your story about dinner with your friends was interrupted by Toji’s booming voice.
“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, huh?” Toji asked aggressively to someone over your shoulder. You looked over to find the man that was flirting with you had taken up a seat in the booth diagonal to you and Toji, and must have been staring at you throughout your lunch.
“Oh, now you wanna act coy? You were a big man the past half hour, eyeing them up,” he snarled, jabbing a thumb your way. “We got a problem or not?”
“No! No problem, sir!” The man all but ran out of the restaurant, not even sparing you a second glance. You rolled your eyes at his cowardice; he’d never find a partner if he couldn’t find his backbone. Toji leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms in annoyance.
“Now I can finish my meal in peace. It was difficult to eat in the presence of that lovesick loser.”
“Hey,” you scolded, “is it that sickening to know someone has a crush on me?”
“Yeah, actually, it is,” he responded, leaning in. “I don’t want to see another man looking at you like that.”
You furrowed your brow. “Another man-? Toji, are you jealous or something?”
“What? No, no way. That’s ridiculous,” he said defensively, but you noticed the way he started shoveling food into his mouth to avoid further conversation.
“So if I said that guy flirted with me the entire walk over here? That wouldn’t make you feel anything?”
“I’d feel annoyed that he bothered you,” he said between bites of his meal.
“And if I wasn’t annoyed? If I liked him coming onto me strongly like that, if he gave me his phone number?”
Toji’s fists clenched at that. “He better not have.”
“What would it matter to you?” you challenged, not backing down.
“Fine! Maybe I do like you. So what?” he barked. “It makes me angry that guys approach you. If that’s jealousy, then yeah, I’m jealous. Now, will you stop your interrogation like I’m some sorta kid in trouble?”
A grin showed up on your face with this newfound knowledge. “Last question, Mr. Fushiguro: what would you do if I said I liked you too?”
He finally looked up from his bowl of noodles. “I’d ask if you were being serious.”
“I am.”
Toji put his chopsticks down and smirked. “In that case, I’d kiss you like I’ve been wanting to for a long time now and then chase down the dude that thought he could get away with flirting with my partner like that.”
#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#noritoshi kamo x reader#inumaki toge x reader#aoi todo x reader#ino takuma x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fanfic#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x reader angst#yuji itadori x reader#jjk x reader jealous
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A/N- finn is hot- don't try to fight me on this
Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 25
Word Count- 3.2k
Warnings- mentions of STDS, sex, condoms, bananas, THEO, decapitation, Kardashians
“Why are you smiling like that?” I finish applying the lipstick Rebekah sent me as an apology gift for attacking Elena, and glance over to Theo leaning against the doorframe.
“I just had a good dream,” I mumble as I stand up from my desk and grab my jacket.
Theo hums.
“So it has nothing to do with you letting that mutt slobber all over you last night…or his brother coming over right after and spending the night with you… I must say sister, juggling two bitches,” Theo wipes away a fake tear, “I’m so proud of you.”
I whip around and glare at him, “Theodore Monty Y/l/n, watch it!”
Theo smirks at me and raises his hands.
“All I’m saying is that like 3 weeks ago the only side piece you had on your arm was Elena, and now you’ve got two brothers. Upgrades sister, hell ya!”
Theo throws out his palm for me to high-five. I don’t. Instead, I walk around him and down the hallway to the front door.
Theo continues to speak.
“Now I know you’ve had zero playtime soooo I think we should chat about this. For example, we should have the talk.”
I freeze.
“Theo, I will smother you in your sleep if you continue to talk.”
“Y/n, I don’t like children, I don’t want any nieces or nephews running around.”
I glare over my shoulder at him, “They’re vampires, you dimwit. They can’t have kids.”
Theo thinks to himself for a moment before nodding, “Okay. Well, what about STDs? What if there are vampire STDs you could catch? One look at that mutt from last night and I bet he’s got something you can catch other than fleas.”
I feel my face drop as Theo continues to mutter things to himself about vampire sexually transmitted diseases.
I shake my head, open the front door, and leave the house, hearing Theo call from behind me.
“Fine run! But don’t think for a second young lady that we won’t be discussing things later! And trust next time I see either one of those fools I will be asking them about Vamp STDs!”
At that exact moment, our 82-year-old neighbor Shelley, exits her house. I’m pretty sure her look of pure shock and horror mirrors mine.
“Oh hi Mrs. Davenport,” Theo yells happily.
—
“Hey Bonnie, how are you?”
The phone line is silent for a moment as I hear Bonnie closing a door.
“I’m fine…I guess. My mom’s going to finish her transition,” Bonnie’s sad voice makes me frown as I stare at the red light in front of me.
“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” I think back to last night and try to shake away the image of Esther’s decapitated head from my head, “If I would’ve known your mother…”
“Don’t apoligize, Y/n. It’s not your fault. And ya… it sucks she has to become a vampire but…it beats losing you or Elena. And I swear, Y/n, as soon as Damon told me that if the originals died, you would die with them, I tried stopping the spell. I would have never done it in the first place if I knew you’d die too.”
Bonnie’s earnest voice makes me smile, “I trust you, Bon. And thank you.”
I hear someone say something to Bonnie and she sighs, “I’ve got to go.”
“It’s ok, Bonnie. We’ll talk soon. Give yourself some time with your mother before coming back to this mess over here. You deserve it.”
“Okay, thank you. And when I get back we’ll find a way to get you out of that soul bond mess and away from the Mikaelsons.”
“Uh, ya, ok. Bye, Bonnie.”
I end the call and pull into the Grill’s parking lot. As I step out of my car, cross the street, and enter the grill, one thought won’t leave my head.
“What if I don’t want to break the bond?”
—
“Y/n?”
I stop walking and smile when my eyes meet Finn’s brown ones.
“Hey, Finn,” I slide into the seat in the booth across from him and can’t help but smile at the obvious discomfort he has plastered on his face.
“You look…”
“Uncomfortable…yes I know. A lot of things have changed since I was last part of civilization,” Finn fiddles with the ring on his middle finger and it reminds me of the anxious tic I do quite often.
“We could’ve met somewhere else. I know that being in big crowds like this unsettles me too,” I smile softly at him.
Finn eyes a group of passersby wearily but still shakes his head, “No…I’m alright. If I’m going to be a part of this world I’ve got to learn to live with these things.”
I nod, “Okay. So, why exactly did you have Rebekah call me to meet you here?” Finn turns his attention away from a drunk woman who seems to be having the time of her life, “You said you’d help me find my Rose.”
Oh…ya I did.
I cringe slightly, “So here’s the thing Finn,” I’m about to tell Finn that there is no way in hell Bonnie would agree to bring another old ass vampire to Mystic Falls after what just went down, but as I look at the helpless expression on Finn’s face and the loneliness in his eyes, something in my breaks, “My witch is currently out of town for a family thing,” Finn’s shoulders sag and his face drops, “But, she said she’d be happy to help as soon as she gets back.”
Finn eyes me for a moment before a soft smile on his face appears, “I’ve waited 900 years for her…a little longer will be fine. Thank you for helping me, Y/n, I know you don’t have to but…”
“Finn we’re friends, that’s what friends do,” I say simply and Finn frowns.
“Friends?”
The way he says the word aloud is as if he’s never heard it before.
“I mean you don’t have to be my friend, I was just-”
“I would like it,” Finn interrupts me, “It’s just that I’ve never really…had one before.”
His words bring back memories of me crying in my room, wondering why no one ever wanted to be around me and it makes me realize just how much me and this 1,000-year-old man have in common.
“Well, I just got my first friend like 3 months ago, so I’m pretty new to this whole friend thing too.”
Finn frowns, “I don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”
I shrug, “I’m peculiar, remember?”
Finn’s upper lip twitches, “That we are.”
—
“Wait… so Kim is the oldest?”
I groan at Finn’s words, “Finnias, no! We’ve been over this Kourtney is the oldest! Kim is the one dating Kanye.”
Finn nods thoughtfully, “And we don’t like Kanye?”
I shake my head, “No because he was mean to Taylor Swift.”
I watch as the wheels turn in Finn’s head as he continues to piece together all the information on pop culture I’ve given him in the past hour.
“Alright, I think I’m understanding. Actually…remind me again who Hannah Montana is?”
“Well, don’t you two look comfy together!”
I roll my eyes as I turn to see Demon Salvawhore smirking down at Finnias and I.
“What do you want, Demon?”
“I thought his name was Damon,” Finn questions me with a confused look.
“It is, but I still haven’t seen him and Lucifer in the same place at once so I call him Demon.”
Finn nods but looks down at his hands with a confused look.
“I just saw you two here chatting it up so I thought I might come say hi.”
“Well, we’re kind of in the middle of something here. So feel free to take your leave,” I glare at him.
“It’s alright, Y/n,” Finn says and I turn to see him getting out of the booth, “I should probably get back to make sure my siblings are still alright. But…thank you, for today and helping me.”
I smile up at Finn, “Anytime, Finnieas. And I’ll talk to Klaus about buying you that phone so I can show you how to text.”
Finn nods his head, smiling, and then walks away.
My smile falls as I glance back to Demon.
“What do you want?” “Why are you avoiding me?”
I blink slowly at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Damon gives me an “Are you serious” look.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Pukey. I’ve tried calling you all night last night and all this morning. Only to find you here with yet another original.”
I stand up and glare at him, “Finn is my friend.”
“Ya? Just like Elijah and Klaus are right?”
This bitch.
“I’m not doing this with you right now, Damon. Leave me alone.”
I turn and walk away but Damon’s hand grabs my upper arm.
“Y/n, stop.”
“Is there a problem here, Y/n?”
I turn to my right to find Rebekah at my side, glaring at Damon.
“No, Rebekah. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Rebekah smiles at me but doesn’t move.
Damon drops my arm but doesn’t leave, “Why are you mad at me?”
It’s my turn to give him an “Are you serious” look, “Really Damon?! You almost killed the Mikaelson yesterday, which almost killed me, and then you actually did kill Bonnie’s mom who is now turning into a vampire?!”
Damon rolls his eyes and I fight the urge to slap him.
“Bonnie’s mom needed to die,” He says simply and I glare at him.
“And why was that?”
Damon doesn’t blink, “Because it came down to you or her,” His voice comes out strong, “And I’d pretty much kill everyone in this town if it meant my best friend stayed alive.”
Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m going to cry.
“Oh…”
Damon tilts his head, annoyed, “That’s all you have to say. Oh?”
The next thing I know I’m throwing my arms around him.
Damon doesn’t move for a moment, but after a few seconds his arms wrap around me and he pats my head awkwardly, “Ya, okay, Pukey. Love you too.”
I let go of Damon and fight back tears in my eyes. Damon rolls his eyes and fies his jacket trying to act tough.
“You’re too emotional,” He says nonchalantly.
I punch him in the arm, “You just called me your best friend. Not takebacks, Demon.”
Damon rolls his eyes dramatically, “Ya whatever, Pukey.”
He reaches out a hand and messes up my hair before turning around and walking away, not before I spot the small smile on his face.
“You guys are odd.”
Rebekah’s British accent makes me remember she’s standing beside me.
“Ya, kind of.”
Rebekah rolls her blue eyes and a wave of jealousy flows through me. How is it that someone can be this pretty?!
“So…Elijah didn’t come back until early this morning,” Rebekah’s lips morph into a smirk, “Do you know anything about that?”
I feel my face heat up, “Um…nope.”
Rebekah raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure? Because the smile that was plastered on his face all this morning says otherwise.”
I furrow my brows, “What does him smiling have to do with me?”
Rebekah gives me an “Are you serious” look, guess it’s common today, “Maybe because the only time my older brother smiles is when he’s around you…And he was really smiling this morning.”
At her tone I freeze, “Wait…do you think that we…” I move my hands around, “Y’know…”
Rebekah raises an eyebrow at me, “Well, didn’t you?”
I shake my head viciously, “No! All we did was kiss and then he watched Coraline with me until I went to sleep!”
Rebekah’s face falls, “Seriously? You’ve got my older brother all giddy after one kiss.”
I shrug, “I doubt he was “giddy”.
Rebekah nods her head, “Oh trust me, he was practically singing when he was making his morning coffee.
I snort out a laugh at her words and try to imagine Elijah singing.
“I like seeing him that way…happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of my siblings like that.”
At her solemn voice, I frown, “How are you doing? After everything…”
Rebekah shrugs, “I’m fine. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be.”
Her dismissal has me frowning deeper, “Bekah, you’re mother died. I know that she tried to kill you but it doesn’t change the fact that she was still your mother.”
Rebekah looks at me but her face doesn’t betray how she’s really feeling, “I’m fine, Y/n. Finn was the mummy’s boy. I don’t give a damn about that woman.”
I nod but still don’t believe her, “Well if you ever do need to talk to someone. You can always call me.”
Rebekah eyes me for a moment skeptically, then nods, “I won’t need to but…thanks. I guess,” Her attention strays for a moment, “There is someone I need to go talk to. Goodbye, Y/n.”
“Bye, Rebekah.”
—
I pull into my driveway but feel a frown come over my face as I notice an unfamiliar expensive-looking black car in my usual parking spot.
I park beside it and hurry into the house, worrying about Theo.
“Theo! Are you okay-”
“So, both of you have your bananas, and these right here are condoms,” I turn the corner and my jaw drops as I see Theo holding up a banana and a Trojan condom. An unfamiliar sound comes out of my mouth when I look at the two figures sitting on the couch before him with bananas in their hands and annoyed looks on their faces. Klaus and Elijah.
“Theo what the hell are you doing?!?”
My yell of utter horror catches the three men’s attention.
“Oh, goody! Sister, I’m glad you’re here,” Theo drops his banana on the coffee table before Klaus and Elijah, a table that is covered in condoms and STD pamphlets, “After our little talk this morning I got to thinking and decided that if you and I aren’t going to talk about the elephants in the room, I’d just call up your boyfriends and have that chat with them myself.”
I stare wide-eyed at Elijah and Klaus, “And you both agreed to this?!?”
Elijah releases a deep sigh and Klaus glares at my little brother, “Your infant here called us and said we had to get over here because you were in danger.”
Theo raises his hands, “YES! In danger of catching a vampire STD.”
“Theo! Those don’t exist,” I screech at him.
“That’s exactly what we’ve tried to explain to him for the past 30 minutes, Elskan. For some reason, it isn’t sticking,” Elijah raises his head and shoots a dirty look at my brother.
“Thirty minutes!? You’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes letting my 16-year-old brother have the sex talk with you!?”
“Well, 15 of those minutes were filled with threats,” Klaus mutters.
I glare at him, “I thought I told you to stop threatening my brother.”
Klaus turns his glare onto me and raises his hands in exhaustion, “The threats were from him, Love! And they were quite imaginative.”
“Thank you, I’ve been working on them for a while now,” Theo smirks at Klaus, and the hybrid growls at him.
“Niklaus, please,” Elijah sighs.
Theo turns his attention back onto me, “Well now that you’re here,” He drags me over to a chair and pushes me down into, “I can finally give you the talk.”
“What talk,” Elijah asks confused.
Theo looks at him like he’s stupid, “The sex talk, dumbass. Since you,” He points to Elijah, “Like to spend the night in my sister’s bed without asking me permission. And you,” He points to Klaus, “Like to slobber all over her like the dog you are. I thought it would be a good idea to have this discussion before things move further. Now gentleman pick your bananas back up.”
“Theo! NO!”
Theo ignores me and smiles at Klaus and Elijah, who haven’t moved.
“One more dog joke out of you, Theodora and I swear I’ll-”
“Niklaus!”
Elijah and Klaus eye each other and Theo just stands there tapping his shoe on the hardwood floor.
“Theo go to your room, right now,” I stand up and glare at him, “We are not having this discussion right now…or ever!”
“But the vampire STDS!”
“Theodore there are no such things as vampire STDS! GO TO YOUR ROOM!”
My yelling has all three men looking at me wearily.
Theo raises his hands in surrender, “Ok, fine. Just trying to help.”
“And leave the condom here!”
Theo halts and turns back to the table and Klaus, Elijah, and I watch as Theo empties maybe 30 condoms from his jeans.
“Bloody hell,” Klaus mutters.
I glare at Theo as he skips out of the living room and down the hall to his room. As soon as I hear his door close I run a hand over my face.
“Elskan-”
I raise a hand stopping Elijah before he can continue.
“Nope. Whatever you’re going to say…just nope.”
“Well, I’m never going to look at a banana the same way,” Klaus’ says sarcastically and I’m silent for a moment before a loud laugh escapes my mouth.
I move my hands from my face and find Klaus smirking at me, and Elijah smiling softly at me with a bright look in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you both just leave,” I asked incredulously, “You two are the strongest and oldest creatures alive, and yet you stayed to have a teenage boy teach you how condoms work?!”
Klaus and Elijah side-eye each other.
Elijah stands from his seat and fixes his suit jacket, “When we heard that you were in danger we hurried over here as fast as we could…but when we came inside and found this,” He gestures to the table of condoms and bananas, “We were going to leave.”
“And then Theodora locked the door behind us and told us that if we didn’t sit down and shut up he’d never give us his approval. And then said that we can bet our asses that if we don’t have his approval, you’d never speak to us again. I of course told him to go to hell but my brother here sat down like the good boy he is,” Klaus says and rolls his eyes.
“And yet you’re still here,” Elijah mutters.
“So let me get this straight,” I look to both of them, “You endured Theo’s company for 30 minutes, just because you want his approval?!”
“If his approval means you accepting us…then of course we did.”
Klaus mutters something about Theo and daggers, but I ignore him.
“You really care that much?”
Klaus and Elijah both give me “Are you serious” looks.
“Love, I thought we made our thoughts about you quite known,” Klaus says as he stands, “We want you. Even if that means you come with a less than exceptional little brother as baggage.”
I snort at Klaus’ words and Elijah walks across the table and over to me, “There is nothing in this world I desire more than your company and happiness, Y/n. Please believe me when I say that.”
I feel my face heat up at the attention of the two men and I nod.
“I believe you.”
“Great,” Klaus says then pauses, “Also…I was just wondering what exactly was discussed by you and Theodora to warrant all of this,” He gestures to the table with a smirk.
Oh fuck.
#damon salvatore#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus mikaelson#athenamikaelson#elijah mikaelson#thecwshows#klaus x reader#the originals#author#the vampire diares imagine#tvd klaus#klaus mikealson x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#stefan x elena#elena gilbert#bonnie bennett#thevampirediaries#the vampire diaries#davina claire#damon salvatore imagine#kol mikaelson imagine#kol mikaelson icons#kol mikaelson x reader#caroline forbes#rebekah mikaelson
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Pagtingin! . hyun-ju
" When I reveal my feelings I hope your opinion of me won't change When I confess my secrets I hope your opinion of me won't change " - patingin by ben&ben
in which . in which Hyun-ju comes back after the events of the game and she happens to bump into her partner who she left without an explanation.
cho hyun-ju x reader (fem) . angst/fluff
based off . ♡
Strolling through the busy streets, you stumbled upon your favorite café. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of coffee and vanilla, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Sweet bossa nova music played softly in the background, blending with the gentle hum of conversations. It was the perfect day to settle down and work in the cozy atmosphere of the café. After ordering your usual coffee and sweet treats, you made your way to a nearby table by the window.
Taking your seat, you gazed out at the bustling street. Sure, it might seem cliché to some—a solitary figure at a window seat in a café—but to you, it was a small joy. The window wasn’t just a pane of glass; it was a lens into the endless stories unfolding outside. Watching strangers go about their lives, you found yourself imagining their worlds. Two girls walked past in school uniforms—you guessed they were high schoolers, maybe around fourteen or fifteen. Your eyes followed a middle-aged man pedaling his bike, his neatly pressed office attire suggesting he worked in accounting or something similar.
It fascinated you how everyone’s lives were so different from your own. Each person outside that window carried a story you’d never fully know, lives that were nothing like yours—boring, miserable, yet oddly peaceful and happy in their own way. And for a moment, watching them, you felt connected to something bigger, as though their differences somehow brought you closer to understanding your own quiet existence.
Your thoughts suddenly come to an end when you hear a group of people laughing next to you. You wish you had your earbuds with you to drown out the sounds but the gods were against you and made you forget to bring it. Wallowing in your sadness, you heard a familiar laugh coming from the table next to you and it made your mind race, turning to the table next to you…
It was her. For a moment, you froze, your breath hitching in your chest. Oh, how you wished this was a dream—because it certainly felt like one. A dream so vivid, so achingly beautiful, that the thought of waking up filled you with dread. But it wasn’t a dream. The world around you blurred and faded, leaving only her, like the central figure in a watercolor painting.
And then you heard it, her laughter. That soft, melodic sound you thought you’d forgotten but never truly could. It was like a gentle breeze carrying fragments of your past, filling you with a bittersweet ache. That laughter brought you back to a time when everything felt lighter, simpler, and whole. Nostalgia crashed into you, raw and unrelenting, pulling at the corners of your heart.
You wanted to move, to say something, but all you could do was sit there, drinking in the moment. That sound, that sight of her—it was a warmth you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. And for just an instant, you allowed yourself to believe that this wasn’t just a fleeting memory or a trick of your longing mind but something real, something you could hold onto, even if only for a little while.
You hadn’t realized how long your gaze had been fixed on her until you noticed she was looking back at you. Her almond-shaped brown eyes met yours, locking you in place. She gave you a smile like before, but your mind drifted to how beautiful and ethereal she looked as the sun from the window embraced her figure. Her hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, the soft simple makeup making her look beautiful. You felt like you were seeing an angel for the first time, you felt like you were seeing her for the first time. And it made her heart skip a beat. You noticed how she excused herself to her friends and she was now making her way towards your table, quickly you moved your laptop and notepad away, your fingers running through your hair as you fixed it and made it look more presentable.
“Hi…” Hyun-ju said shyly, looking right at you with a soft smile, you looked up from your notepad and gave her a tight smile. Awkward silence filled the air as the tall woman stood still in front of your table, you took notice and felt bad. You motioned your hand to the empty chair in front of you indicating that she can take that seat. Another set of awkward silence filled the coffee shop, the tension was so thick you felt as if coming to this cafe was a mistake.
“You look beautiful today.”
The words hung in the air, soft but sincere, making Hyun-ju pause. Her eyes flickered to you, but you avoided her gaze, focusing instead on the cup in your hands. Still, the familiar warmth spread through her chest. Hearing you call her beautiful always meant the world to her. It was a reminder that you saw her, loved her, just as she was. Yet, the pang of guilt was unavoidable. She had walked away without a word, leaving behind questions that she still couldn’t answer.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes caught the faint smile tugging at your lips, and something shifted. A flicker of hope sparked within her, a fragile belief that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to mend what had been broken.
As if on cue, both of you started speaking at the same time, your voices overlapping awkwardly. You exchanged startled glances before bursting into quiet laughter, the sound breaking the tension between you. It was a silly, fleeting moment, but it carried a strange weight. For a second, it felt like you were teenagers again, stumbling through the nerves of a first date. Or perhaps it was just the awkwardness of two people who once knew each other so well, trying to find their footing again.
You stole another glance at Hyun-ju, and the sight of her hit you harder than you expected. The ache in your chest flared up, a sharp reminder of the emptiness her absence had left behind. No matter how much you had tried to fill that void, it had never worked. And now, sitting here with her, you couldn’t help but wonder if that missing piece had always been her.
But words refused to come. Your throat tightened, the lump there stubbornly blocking every thought, every feeling you wanted to voice. The two of you sat in silence, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down. Yet, in the quiet, there was something unbreakable—a connection that time and distance hadn’t erased.
You hear Hyun-ju clear her throat, you glance at her as she says, “I…I miss you, it’s been a while.” It made you smile a bit despite the hurt you were feeling inside, “I miss you too.” You said softly, as your thumb caresses the warm cup of coffee. You never felt this wave of emotions before, something so bittersweet. Sadness and hurt was evident on your face and Hyun-ju can clearly see it.
Your teary eyes locked with hers. “Funny, isn’t it? It’s been five weeks. Five weeks since I last heard from you.” Your voice wavered, though you tried to mask it with a frown. “And now, here you are, showing up as if nothing happened.” The words came out colder than you intended, laced with the bitterness that had been festering in the void her absence left behind.
Hyun-ju stood frozen, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words came. What could she even say? Would you believe her if she told you the truth? That she had been kidnapped, thrust into a series of deadly games because of her debts and her desperation to complete her transition? That she had watched countless lives end in horrifying ways, the weight of survival pressing down on her with every passing second?
You noticed the flicker of conflict in her expression, and it only fueled your frustration. “Look,” you said sharply, “if you don’t want to deal with this—us—it’s fine. Just say it.” Your voice cracked, but before you could say more, Hyun-ju cut you off.
“Y/N.” Her voice was firm, but there was a tremor in it. “I never said I didn’t want this. Or that I wanted it to be over. You mean too much to me.” Her gaze dropped, her voice softening. “You… you wouldn’t understand. That’s the problem.”
“Understand what, Hyun-ju?” you snapped, your frustration boiling over. “You can’t just show up and expect me to be okay after you disappeared without a word. No call, no text, nothing. Five weeks, Hyun-ju. Five.” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists, your voice growing harsher. “Do you know how hard I tried to find you? How much I worried? Don’t tell me I don’t understand when you’re not even telling me what I’m supposed to understand.”
Your words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the fragile tension like a blade. You didn’t want to sound this harsh, but the hurt, confusion, and stress had built up too much to hold back. It wasn’t just the absence that hurt—it was the silence, the unanswered questions, the sense that she had left you in the dark without a second thought.
The tone of your voice cut through Hyun-ju’s heart more deeply than you could ever know. Her chest ached with guilt, the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She had thought leaving without a word was the right thing to do—a way to protect you from the chaos of her life. But now, facing the consequences, she realized how wrong she had been. Immature. Thoughtless.
“I just…” Her voice faltered, barely above a whisper. “I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore… that I’d be a disgrace to you, the way I am to everyone else.” Her words were soft, almost as if she was afraid of saying them out loud, afraid of the weight they carried.
Hearing her broke something in you. You had been so consumed by your own pain, your own confusion, that you hadn’t stopped to see hers. In that moment, you realized it wasn’t just you who had been hurting. She had been carrying her own burden of fear and self-doubt, silently tearing herself apart. And now, her vulnerability was laid bare, raw and trembling in front of you.
“You deserve someone better than me, Y/N,” Hyun-ju whispered, her voice trembling. “You can’t be in a relationship with someone like me—”
Before she could finish, you reached out, gently taking her soft, larger hand in yours. “Stop,” you said firmly, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I don’t care, Hyun-ju. I don’t care about any of that.”
Your thumb gently traced small circles over her hand, grounding both of you in the moment. “I love you for who you are. Every part of you. To me, you’re perfect—the most beautiful woman in the world. And honestly, it amazes me every single day that you chose someone like me to be with you.”
A tear slipped down your cheek as you gave her a soft, heartfelt smile. It wasn’t just your words that spoke—it was the way you looked at her, as if she was the only person in the world who mattered.
Hyun-ju let out a choked sob, gripping your hand tightly as if you might disappear. “I just… I thought that one day you’d wake up and realize you deserve someone better. That—That you’d see I’m not enough for you because I’m not perfect.” Her voice cracked as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “This body… this body that I’ve fought so hard for, it’s still not enough. People look at me and see a lie, a joke. I thought maybe one day you’d see me the same way, and it would break me, Y/N. It would destroy me.”
Her words came in waves, each one laced with years of pain and fear. “You deserve someone who doesn’t have to fight to exist. Someone who doesn’t carry the kind of baggage I do. I’ve seen the way people stare at us when we’re together. The way they judge you just for loving me. And I thought… maybe you’d get tired of it. Of me. Of always having to defend me, to fight for me. I thought you’d leave, and I didn’t think I’d survive it.”
Her voice grew softer, trembling as she continued. “You have no idea what it’s like… to constantly wonder if the people who love you will stop when they finally see you for who you really are.”
The raw vulnerability in her words cut through you like a knife. God, it pained you to see her like this. Without hesitation, you rose from your seat and moved to her side. Kneeling down, you gently placed your fingers under her chin, lifting her face so she could meet your gaze.
“Oh, love,” you murmured, your voice soft yet steady. “I will never, ever leave you. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me?” You brushed away the tears streaming down her face, your touch gentle and reassuring. “You are enough, Hyun-ju. You’re more than enough. You’re the bravest woman I know. You’ve fought battles most people couldn’t even imagine, and you’ve come out stronger every time.”
You gave her a soft smile, hoping it could reach the cracks in her heart. “You’re my Hyun-ju. The one who fills my life with warmth and love. The one who makes those incredible meals so I don’t have to spend a dime eating out. And the one who makes me laugh when I don’t even think I can smile.”
Your thumb stroked her cheek as you looked into her tear-filled eyes. “I don’t care what the world thinks, or what anyone says. I see you, Hyun-ju. I love you. Every single part of you. And nothing, nothing will ever change that.”
In that moment, you weren’t just offering her words—you were offering her a piece of your soul, a promise that no matter what storms came your way, you would face them together.
“I love you, Hyun-ju. All of you. Your body, your personality—everything. I love you,” you whispered, your voice steady and filled with sincerity.
You leaned in slowly, giving her a moment to meet you halfway. As your lips met hers, the kiss was tender, a gentle melding of emotions rather than just a physical gesture. It was soft but full of meaning, as if you were pouring all the love, reassurance, and devotion you felt into that single moment.
Her lips trembled against yours, and you could feel the faint taste of salt from her tears, but neither of you pulled away. Instead, you cupped her face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the wet trails on her cheeks. She responded hesitantly at first, as though afraid to believe this was real, but then her hands found their way to your arms, holding onto you as though grounding herself in your presence.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, her breath mingling with yours. “You’re my everything, Hyun-ju,” you said softly, gazing into her tearful eyes. “Always.”
“I love you too.”
You smiled softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “How about I buy you that favorite dessert of yours?” you offered, your voice light and filled with affection.
Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a reassuring squeeze before flashing her a smile—one of those rare, genuine smiles that you saved just for her. It was the kind of smile that spoke volumes, one that told her she was cherished, loved, and safe with you.
As you walked out of the café, your gaze lingered on Hyun-ju, unable to help but admire her once more. You silently thanked the gods for blessing you with such a wonderful partner, vowing to do anything for her.
a/n . i told myself I was going to make a part two of mesmerized but I honestly got kind of lazy...and this prompt I could not stop thinking about it. This is my first time writing angst since i'm more of a writer who loves writing tooth rottening fluff....LOL
#cho hyun ju#cho hyun ju x reader#cho hyun-ju#cho hyunju#cho hyunju x reader#hyun ju#hyun ju x reader#hyun-ju x reader#hyunju#hyunju x reader#squid game x reader#squid game#squid game season 2#squid game 2#squid game hyun-ju#squid game hyun ju#player 120#i love my wife so much#she's the love of my life#pls marry me
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I almost trip in shock.
The prince? Here? With a cake?
I must have lost my mind… maybe smelled one too many Dusklilies and I’m hallucinating. The image of a prince in his pristine outfit, complete with his little hat, standing in the middle of my living room/room/kitchen, with a dirt floor and an old Merlin’s Magical Goods tarp for a ceiling, was one I never thought I’d see.
Some remaining sane part of me screams “Say something!”, but shock is a funny thing. I’m stiff like late King Corvious’ statue and my mouth as dry as the Hasar Desert.
“Uh— is she dumb?” His Majesty asks.
That brings me back.
“Of course not!” I yelp. Quickly remembering I could lose my head for being rude, I add begrudgingly, “Erm, Your Majesty”.
I can’t remember when was the last time Prince Ellias left the palace. Rumor has it he’s been preparing for his ascension to the throne day and night, working to master his talents — mysterious powers no one knows about. I’ve always thought he’s just a stuck up bitch baby that won’t get his pretty little silk slippers dirty.
Sure, he is beautiful. Gray-blue eyes, sculpted face, silky black hair falling on his face gracefully… but nice? The stories seem to tell otherwise, and I’m confirming that live.
“You don’t seem like a flower girl at all”, the baby says, a sneer on his face. He looks me up and down, pointedly stopping at my empty hands.
The bastard. Like I wanted to do this. Stealing flowers and selling them is easier than stealing and selling anything else. Hells, there’s a house in Puckard Street owned by a blind lady that has a huge garden with all sorts of plants and it’s not like she will notice them missing.
The prince looks back at his advisor, confusion mixed with disdain. The advisor shrugs back, hands trembling a little over some papers.
“She’s the only flower lady in the realm that’s in her 20s and has a birthday today, Your Majesty,” the advisor tries to whisper, nervousness lacing his voice.
To me he says, mustering courage, “the Prince wishes to celebrate your birthday, as a sign of thanks for your service to the realm”.
I don’t buy it. So I stare at him point blank.
The Prince sighs, clearly debating something with himself, his body hunched as if in defeat.
The part of me that cares not for her head blurts out, “What.”
And suddenly, he’s on me.
His lips are trying to find mine and my two brain cells can’t decide between stabbing him with my hidden knife or kissing him and seeing where this is going, hopefully leading to some money. I’m tired of living in this alley makeshift house my mother left me in.
I decide to push him. Instinct I guess.
“You— what the hells is going on?!” I scream pushing with all my strength and the two loafs of bread I’ve had to eat today.
He stumbles back, his advisor catching him. His eyes lock with mine as he says “I will not continue to live with this curse, stop making this harder on yourself”.
The fuck?
Why can’t I have nice things? I mean, it’s my birthday for god’s sake! Where do these people get these ideas from? How can I, a mere flower girl that hasn’t two pennies to rub together, break a curse?
“What in the Hells are you saying?!” I stare back and hard. I will not stand for this.
“It’s your birthday is it not? The prophecy states I must share a love kiss with a ‘girl touched by flowers on the date of her 25th year or the darkness will persist’” he exclaims as if I had to have knowledge of this, because of course, who wouldn’t.
I can only stare in disbelief.
That damned mother of mine. She truly was a witch. And she truly meant it when she said she’d give me “the realm and the world to lead”. I thought she was on something. Balckcapped mushrooms perhaps.
And I, naturally, break out laughing.
The cake is a nice touch, but this is a game I can play too.
“Oh, Prince, I would most definitely kiss you, but this will cost you”, I purr.
The advisor bites his lip and closes his eyes, as the prince squints his eyes and shakes his head. I can hear him mutter to himself, “flower girl alright”.
I smile and mentally start to prepare for the rest of my life.
You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.
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ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 01 】
⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader
⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.
⤑ series masterlist, on the run.
⤑ chapter two, coming soon!
⤑ notes, hi welcome to my first fic on here! i haven’t written anything in years but i couldn’t not write something for my girl bcos she deserves all the love. anyways enjoy, i hope it isn’t too bad!! 🫶🏻
⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan (if you would like to be added let me know)
The day seemed to pass slowly. You spent most of it watching the hours tick by. Midnight at Hangang Bridge the robotic voice had said when calling the unknown number two days ago, a number from a card you'd received from a well dressed man in Sinchon station. Your face was still slightly bruised from that interaction, you had never been the best at playing ddakji. It was 30 minutes until 12 and you knew if you didn't leave now, you wouldn't make it on time. As risky as it was you weren't missing out on the opportunity to potentially win life changing money.
You unplugged your phone from the charger and switched off the broken lamp that did nothing to light your room. The apartment was small, all contained in one room minus the bathroom but it was the best you could get with what you have. You slipped on your shoes, eyes scanning the place one last time and eventually landing on the fridge. The note she had left was still there, her messy handwriting followed by little hearts in the corner, you could picture her folded over the kitchen island, a little smile on her face as she doodled her love onto the page. You missed her more than anything.
You quickly pulled yourself together closing the door behind you. A noise to the left startled you, keys almost falling from your hands. The sweet lady who owned the building with her son was hiding herself from view of the streets, the curtains slightly moving from the wind. "Hi, Ajumma" You called.
She turned with a smile on her face, backing away from the window. "Oh hello Y/N love" She replied.
"Are you okay?" You questioned. It wasn't like her to be roaming around the halls so late in the night especially at her age.
"I don't want to worry you" She said hesitantly. You froze, mind instantly going to Hyunju. Did she finally come by? "Those same men where outside again, no good for nothing they are" She seethed.
Your heart sank. "Oh"
"I've been keeping an eye on them just in case but looks like they're gone now" She said, walking alongside you towards the exit. "You're leaving late? Everything okay?" She asked.
You nodded. "Going to visit a friend for a while, i'll be back in time for rent payments" You assured her, the last thing you needed was to be evicted.
She patted your shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry about that, you go have a nice time" She smiled. "You deserve it"
You paused for a second, words caught in your throat. "If-" You started. "If you see Hyunju can you tell her i'll be back soon? Tell her not to go anywhere, please" You practically begged. It would be just your luck, the moment you leave she would appear again.
Her eyes softened, a look of sympathy flashed across her face. She nodded, caressing your shoulder again. "Of course I will sweetheart. You still haven't heard from her?" She questioned.
You shook your head. It had been 30 days, an entire month since you last seen the one good thing in your life. You were left with a text message, one you'd read more times than you could count, one you could recite by heart if asked. She was leaving but she'd be back soon. At first you were angry, how dare she leave you after everything you'd been through together, with just a message through a screen. Then the days turned to weeks and your anger became worry. Where was she? Why wasn't she returning your calls or texts? You didn't want to expect the worst but in the country you lived as the people you both are, being alone wasn't a good idea. You lost sleep, your headaches not that you thought they could, somehow became worse. Your medication bottles became empty and your pockets just the same. You only hope she'll be back by the time you return and this time you'll have a bank balance enough to get you out of this place.
You finally left the building when another resident entered, distracting the older woman and making your exit, but of course not forgetting to say goodbye. The rain was heavy, bouncing against the cracked pavements. The silence is eerie. The broken street lamps flicker casting shadows on the wet pavements, your jacket doesn't have a hood leaving your hair to get drenched by the midnight drizzle. You scan the roads, no cars or people in sight. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over you, a familiar sensation that mostly greets you in the night.
You don't have time to dwell on it as a beam of headlights approach you. A silver car pulls up beside you, the passenger side window rolls down. You're taken back at the person sat in the driver seat, face concealed by a black mask. They're also wearing a pink suit, their entire body hidden.
"Name?" The masked person questions.
"Y/N L/N" You reply, droplets of rain falling against your open lips.
They don't reply instead the back door clicks open. You quickly slide into the empty seat shielding yourself from the rain. You push the wet hair from your eyes only then noticing other people sat in the seats around you, seemingly asleep.
"Uh, excuse me?" You ask the masked driver. "What's-" You stop mid sentence, suddenly it becomes harder to breathe and a mysterious mist fogs your eyesight. You struggle to move your mouth, your entire body feels heavy. You feel the jolt of the car starting again and before you know it you're being sent into a slumber completely unaware of the hell that awaits you.
#cho hyun ju x reader#player 120 x reader#squid game x reader#cho hyunju#player 120#squid game x fem reader#cho hyunju x fem reader#player 120 x fem reader
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It’s My Job
Summary: The reader’s having a rough night but the stranger at the bar decides to offer some assistance when she has nowhere to go...
Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x reader
Word Count: 1,200ish
Warnings: language, tiny bit of violence
A/N: Enjoy!
______________
Someday you’d have to thank that boy in seventh grade that taught you how to throw a punch.
Don’t put your thumb inside your fist unless you want to break it. Do a small twist of your wrist right before impact to deliver more momentum. Throw your body weight behind it to make it hurt more. That’s what you got for being lab partners with the class bad boy but at least you had a chance because of him.
He neglected to tell you your knuckles would ache, your skin would scrape open and bleed, or even that the adrenaline would make you so jumpy you’d nearly trip on your own feet when you sprinted the hell out of there.
It was eleven at night, your feet taking you to the nearest open door, a bar from the looks of it. You took a deep breath when you got inside, nearly groaning when you saw how dead it was.
“We’re closing up. Tuesday is an early night,” said the bartender, the lone man at the bar swigging down the last of his drink, slapping a few bills down and spinning in his seat to stand.
“No, you don’t under-”
“Out,” said the bartender, your head shaking. “Or I call the cops. I’ve had enough shit for one night.”
“No, I need the cops, I-”
“Out,” said the bartender, shooing you out after the man, the door closing up tight behind.
“No, I...” you said, turning your head to catch sight of the man from the alley hanging out by a wall about three stores down.
“Hey,” said the man nearby, scratching his head, the expression not matching his sour face. “Can you pretend to give me directions while you tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“What?” you said, glancing behind him, the guy’s face in a snarl.
“Don’t look at him,” said the man, making shoulder shrugs like he was confused. “You said you need cops and your hand is messed up so I’m guessing douchebag down there did something?”
“W-Was walking and he grabbed me but I hit him and ran...” you said, remembering what he said, fake pointing to an area behind him, wearing a forced smile.
“I see. There’s a black muscle car just up the street behind you. You walk that way and I’ll deal with the asshole back there,” said the man, a dark smile on his face.
“But-”
“Trust me, kind of my job, sweetheart,” he said, pretending to make a thank you expression, spinning around and walking down the street. You tried to do what he said, not taking too many steps before you heard a thump on the ground, your head turning to find the man shaking out his hand over the out cold alley guy. “He went down like a lightweight. A little proper training and you probably would have gotten him out yourself.”
“Y-Yeah,” you said, the guy pulling his belt from the loops, tying it around the alley guy’s wrists.
“That’ll keep him until the cops show,” said the man, pulling out his phone, giving it a few presses. “Hey Derek...Yeah, it’s Dean. You on duty tonight? Got a pervy assclown down near Chuck’s that could use with an ambulance and an assault charge...he went after some chick in the alley nearby. She got away, bumped into me...yeah, I’ll be sure to tell her what a lucky night she’s having...see you in a few buddy,” he said hanging up the phone. “Cops will be here soon.”
“Thanks...Dean,” you said, the man chuckling.
“You’re very welcome whoever you are,” he said with a smile, squinting his eyes. “You seem super familiar, like extremely familiar. We didn’t go to the same school or something, did we?”
“I’m...I’m in a movie that just came out,” you said, glancing down. “I didn’t realize...”
“Ah, I’ve seen that trailer a thousand times. They won’t stop playing it,” he said, glancing back at the alley guy. “Scumbag like him probably doesn’t give a shit if you’re famous or not. You might want to think about some protection though...maybe a self-defense class at the very least.”
“Maybe...maybe I’ll do that,” you said, nodding your head. “Thank you.”
“I don’t wanna,” you groaned a few weeks later, sitting in a conference room at a protection agency, your manager rolling her eyes at you.
“Okay, your knight in shining armor had a point, Y/N. We were headed down this road anyways,” she said.
“But I took the class. I can kick someone’s ass now,” you said, earning a small laugh from her. “You did too! Anybody messes with us, we got this.”
“Alright Rambo,” she said with a giggle. “Maybe you don’t need one all the time but for events and stuff. Besides, maybe you’ll find a cute bodyguard? Find the Costner to your Houston.”
“I ain’t no damsel,” you said, crossing your arms as the door opened.
“Oh, well that’ll make my job...” said the man in a suit, blinking his eyes at you.
“Dean?” you said, standing up. “What are...”
“I’m a bodyguard,” he said. “When I said to get some protection, I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on that let alone pick my agency.”
“He’s cuter than you said he was,” said your manager, giving Dean a little wave.
“Sara,” you growled, Dean smirking down at you.
“Would you like to start the interview, Ms. Y/L/N?” asked Dean, nodding to the chairs.
“This may seem entirely unprofessional but why were you drinking at a bar by yourself late at night?” you asked, Dean raising an eyebrow.
“I was supposed to go on a blind date that night but got stood up. I was somewhat pissed off so I had a drink or two,” he said. “You should give her a call and thank her.”
“You think I didn’t have the situation handled myself?” you asked, Dean shrugging his shoulders.
“Maybe, maybe not. I took the guess work out of it for you though. That’s my job. You don’t have to wonder if I’ll kick the guy’s ass. You know I will,” he said.
“You’re kinda cocky,” you said.
“You’re kinda stubborn,” he said.
“You’re hired,” you said.
“Already knew I was,” he said, looking you up and down. “My manager will provide you both with a full work history on myself as well as work with Ms. Saxley over there to determine your needs more specifically.”
“That’s it?” you asked, Dean smiling but all business.
“No, you and I are just getting started. Let’s get a coffee down the street and see how well you can follow a few rules to start with.”
_____________
#dean winchester#dean x reader#supernatural#spn#one shot#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#dean fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester x reader#winchester#bodyguard!au#dean supernatural#dean spn#supernatural one shot#spn one shot#supernatural reader insert#spn reader insert#dean winchester spn#dean x
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new year superstitions (or some shit) | bakugo katsuki
wc: 1.4k
summary: bakugo's never believed in timing things for luck (or: affection is hard, but bakugo thinks it's about damn time he tries harder)
contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, aged up!pro-hero bakugo (mid-twenties), reader is described as pretty, vaguely alludes to reader's quirk, established relationship, fluff.
you slip into bakugo's space just a few minutes shy of touching the new year.
everywhere around you is loud, lively in the way new year's eve parties go; a group of people down the street stand outside of a bar, waving their streamers and blowing on small trumpets to welcome the next hour. from a distance, fireworks are shooting up to the sky, right above some luxury hotel having its annual countdown.
it's neither bakugo's thing nor yours to be up this late, partaking in celebrations like this, but he supposes some things are worth experiencing at least once—
the scent of your perfume hits him before he sees you, the space around him tightening in that familiar way the air around you shifts when you hold your breath. you smile, a small, gentle lift of your lips that falls into pace with your blink. pretty.
warmth pools in his stomach, building slowly to crawl its way up his neck and over his ears, overflowing to dust his cheeks.
"thought you looked a little lonely over here," you mumble, stifling your giggle as you watch him turn pink.
he furrows his brows, a soft "tsk," escaping his lips out of habit as his head turns to you. you always tease him like this; he should be getting used to it by now.
a gust of wind picks up from your spot on the balcony, pushing the glass door shut. the noise from inside muffles to dull chatter, the beat of tonight's music recognizable only by the subtle vibrations on the metal railing resting against his back.
the winter breeze seems to have tapped you, too, as you tuck your chin deeper into the red scarf around your neck.
"y'should've stayed inside," he nods to you then to the balcony door, crossing his arms, "s'cold here."
you frown, inching closer, just enough that you could loop your arm with his if you wanted, "sometimes, i can't tell if you're bad at taking hints or just really good at ignoring them."
he eyes you from the side, red vermillion the shade of your scarf—the one he gifted you just a few days ago for christmas. you pout, loosening the fabric around your neck so he can hear you clearly.
"you know," you take in a shaky breath, "this is the f-first time we're at s-something like this as y-y'know…” you pause, glancing at him to gauge his reaction, “t-together."
his nose turns a shade of pink darker; it's true, and he can hear you clearly—every tremor, every shiver. he sees you pretty clearly too, the softest hint of red on your lips. this relationship with you is new, just a little over a couple of months, and it makes him think—
"k-katsuki, are you e-even—"
it's reflex when he does it―his hand shooting out to grip your elbow, pulling you closer into his parka. right where you were standing lands a small clump of snow, fallen from the balcony of the unit above.
you look up almost immediately, a little flustered.
"s-sorry―"
bakugo feels warm despite the cold, heat blazing across his entire face as little puffs of air tickle his neck when you speak. like he said, this relationship with you is new, and though he's held you a few times already, affection, in any capacity is still something he's getting used to.
and you're aware of that too; of course you are. but when you push yourself away to create some space―
"told you s'fuckin cold."
―he keeps his other hand on your back, holding you into place.
bakugo is intense in most aspects; he meets things headfirst with no hesitation, but being this close to you makes him feel weird, a kind of unusual he thinks he should approach with caution―as if to keep himself from ruining the moment.
so his eyes wander. down the street, on the view behind you; they focus on the wisps of your hair ruffled from the earlier breeze, the tips of your eyelashes, blinking. then slowly and carefully, they land on you.
and you―
you beam, eyes widening momentarily before flashing him the brightest smile. it stills him so much that he doesn't notice your hands loosening the scarf around your neck even more, unwinding the fabric until the lengthened ends sit on your palms.
it's when you say "okay," gently and so... so... sweetly, that he feels the softness of wool hit the tips of his ears and down his neck. an ache spreads throughout his chest as he locks eyes with yours, tongue pushing against the roof of his mouth for another tsk―but you beat him to it, your finger coming up to press against his lips.
"s'cold," you giggle, a hint of teasing.
he narrows his gaze, about to retort when you both hear muffled shouts from inside the party, "ten... nine... eight..."
the group of friends down the street seem to be in on it too, echoes in unison, shouting, "seven... six... five... four..."
and from afar, right where the hotel is situated, are the numbers "three... two... one..." lit up on the sky.
you tug on bakugo's parka to draw his attention; the expression on your face is something he can't quite decipher―winter on your cheeks and your lower lip pulled between your teeth. the air around him tightens again, evidenced by the way you suck in a breath.
then, it happens all too fast―the way you tiptoe up just that little bit; your fingertips stamping chills down the edges of his scarred cheek. you kiss bakugo right as the new year strikes and the moment happens too quickly for him to notice.
"happy new year, katsuki," you whisper, close enough that it tickles his chin. it must have been a small peck, it must have been. he can only assume as he blinks it back to memory.
you've kissed before―three times to be exact, four counting this one. and he's not opposed to it (what kind of idiot would be?); in full truth, he fucking loves it.
but, affection is hard, and fuck, it's always been you initiating it―
"sorry, too much?" you mumble sheepishly, pressing your lips together, "just figured since it's the new year and all..."
―which is even more fucked by the fact that you feel the need to apologize for it.
he stares at you, bewildered out of his fucking mind that he still hasn't grown the damn balls to kiss you himself.
so, to hell with new year superstitions, he thinks; bakugo's never believed in playing to luck and chance in the first place. he'll kiss you right now because he wants to―
because it's what he's been wanting to do since the start of tonight, since yesterday, since a week ago; since you kissed him the very first time and all he could do was stand there, trying to act like the very feel of his lips pressed against yours didn't make his mind howitzer impact right in that moment.
―it just so happens that it's the new year, and it's about damn time he grows the balls to initiate it for once.
his hand reaches for your cheek before you can take a step back, fingers slotting themselves by your ear and resting against the edge of your jaw. your eyebrows shoot up, the look in your eyes something between confused and surprised. his thumb slides itself across your cheek before swiping down to touch the edge of your lips, feeling.
there's a dull warmth beneath the pads of his fingertips, heating up when he leans in. the air tightens; breath on hold as his nose bumps into your skin, and it's faint, the slightest touch of your lips against his. your eyes fall shut before his do, and he shivers, a slight tremble as he deepens the kiss.
he starts out slowly, uncertain, moving his lips tentatively. it's a push and pull―soft, quick pecks sandwiched between longer, drawn out touching. it almost feels like this moment's been suspended amidst all the noise, lips locked and gliding, lingering; he swears he can feel you grinning.
your fingers grip the fabric of his parka and tug, and he sees it as a signal to be rougher, taking your bottom lip between his and slightly biting. you squeak the tiniest bit, but it's enough to make him pull away completely, eyes wide as his thumb presses against your chin.
"fuck," he whispers, catching his breath as he tugs just enough that he can see the inside of your lower lip, "did i hurt you?"
he's squinting, brows furrowed while looking for any sign of blood when you shake your head, stopping him. his gaze shifts to take you in―your glossy lips, slick with spit; your eyes, completely blown but somehow still twinkling, and when you giggle, he almost finds it cruel you have to look so fucking pretty.
"it's just your canines," you smile, "i like them."
fuck, he really should've done this sooner.
a/n: this ended up way longer than i planned woops! haven't written bakugo in a while but i miss the guy!! and i wanted to write him so terribly flustered and bad at affection but being so frustrated because he wants to try!!! and he should be better than this!! anyway! i had this idea around christmas time but couldn't write it in time for the new year because i got sick. so it's a little late, but i hope you enjoy!
i'm not sure if you remember my dear willow @willossom, but you sent me a request a good while back for one of my events with the prompt: saying "i love you" in all the ways you aren't used to for bakugo, and this reminded me loads of it!! 🥺 though this isn't the written request for that one yet (i have something else planned for it), i just wanted to let you know that i thought of you while writing this!!!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
#bakugo x reader#bnha x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha#katsu#shotorus.writes#shotorus.workbook#also bc i was scratching my head writing this for him Habfshbh i am RUSTY hELP
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“do you have any idea what you do to me?”
oliver’s voice is a hushed whisper caught somewhere between his lips and your hair and the pillowcase.
it’s not meant for your ears.
it’s nearly drowned out by the steady, muted sound of rain thrumming against the roof, of car tires peeling across slick asphalt out on the street below.
it should be lost in this liminal space that hovers between dusk and dawn, not reverberating in your eardrums in tune with the sudden, rapid beating of your heart.
his mouth hovers against bare skin at the nape of your neck, each exhale a warm lick of heat that rustles and stirs your nerve endings with the unconscious ease of fine stalks of wheat swaying in a late summer breeze.
oliver thinks that you’re asleep, and you probably should be.
it’s funny—the way you’re curled up in his bed wearing his shirt, legs tangled beneath the sheets, his large hand nestled against the curve of your hip.
it’s funny, because you didn’t even have sex tonight.
(and you’ve never found yourself stumbling past the threshold of his bedroom for anything but.)
yet here you are now, quietly wide awake hours after accidentally falling asleep on his couch. he’d excused himself to shower shortly after you arrived, tossing a promising grin over his shoulder before peeling off a sweat-soaked jersey and striding down the hallway.
that’s usually how it goes—you meet up with oliver at his place when he’s done practice and once you get off of work. then you kiss a little and fuck a lot and it’s easy and it’s simple. for him, at least.
oliver doesn’t need to know what goes on between your restlessly wavering mind and traitorously sentimental heart, the way warmth and fondness and other heavy things that you’re too scared to name have slipped in between the gaps in your ribcage.
he doesn’t need to know the complicated knots he’s unknowingly tied your heart strings into, that you couldn’t untangle them even if you tried.
you didn’t mean to fall asleep on his couch tonight, but you’ve been pulling too many doubles at work on not nearly enough sleep. and oliver purposely chose not to wake you up—not until a loud bang of thunder did the job for him instead.
and when you sat up with a jolt, eyes widening at the late hour as embarrassed apologies immediately tumbled from your lips—oliver simply glanced up from where he was looking at his phone beside you on the couch, a soft, amused look on his face.
you were going to leave, because why would he waste any more of his night watching you sleep when he could be fucking someone else? that’s what this arrangement is for, after all.
but he’d smoothly grabbed your car keys from your hand, silencing the clinking of metal on metal with a closed fist. “it’s raining too hard.”
“i can drive in the rain,” you’d rolled your eyes, exasperated.
“well i’d feel better if you just slept here,” he’d replied, his expression far too serious for your susceptible heart.
so now you’re in his bed for something that decidedly isn’t sex, blatantly toeing the line of demarcation between what this is and what it’s not.
it’s dangerous to want him like this.
to let yourself hope.
shadows dance on the walls as lightning flashes outside, the shapes indiscernible.
when you finally work up the courage to turn your head to look back at him, oliver’s fast asleep.
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“ GUMI’S HOME!! “.
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 …
✮ pairing: gojo satoru x reader (romantically). and megumi fushiguro x reader (platonically) (feat. Yuji itadori)
✮ synopsis: in which,, megumi comes to the realization over the years that he in fact does have a family. Or, raising megumi w satoru.
✮ contains: heavyyy flufff, long-term relationship w gojo, young megumi growing up :(, reader and gojo are the same age and get marrieddd. NOT LORE ACCURATE (kinda). ONLY SLIGHT SEASON TWO SPOILERS. crack-fix type dialogue. Megumi and Satoru scuffle. Not a lot of reader until the end. Uhhh, slight cursing. Centered around megumi’s POV!!
September, 2007
Upon first meeting Satoru Gojo, Megumi could confirm (with much confidence) that the man was truly an odd ball.
Like a snake, he slithered his way in with that cocky attitude. A stupid, smug grin and a bravado that made the little boy cringe. Crouching down before him to try and get on his level. Just who the hell did he think he was?
“You’re… fushiguro’s kid, yes? Man, you look just like him. It’s almost uncanny.” the silver haired male gets too close for comfort, thoroughly observing the boy as he mentally points out the similarities between him and his father. “It’s a shame you zen’ins are a bunch of deadbeats—“
“Do you, like, need something–?“ megumi butts in, voice sounding irritated in a way that says he ready to ditch this conversation completely, but curious as to what the hell he could possibly want from him. And just what the hell did “his” clan have to do with him? As if they even knew he existed.
“Well, yeah, actually. Fushiguro is—“
“—something Important.” He emphasizes just before he could finish his sentence.
“Just, about your dad— we aren’t on the best of terms. I ki—“
“Don’t care,” the ravenette huffs, and the sorcerer is surprised at just how much emotion is in such a tiny body. Or, lack there of.
“You.. don’t care?” The male pouts, hands dropping to his sides.
“Haven’t seen him in years. Nor do I remember his face, or what the hell he has going on. Why would I?”
Satoru’s lips purse, and his eyebrows raise in shocked amusement.
“Really. I’ll admit, I’m a little baffled,” he cackles in a way that has the boy frowning in disgust. “You’re stronger than I thought, then. Both physically, and mentally. I’m sure you see that within yourself, too, don’t you, Megumi?”
Megumi stares blankly, and the older boy takes it as a silent agreement.
“Well then! I guess I don’t have anything to say, after all.” With a slap to his knees, satoru stands up from his crouched position, his height shading the smaller boy from the sun. Megumi can now truly see him— the silvery stands of hair, pale skin, and though protected by the expensive branded sunglasses adorning his face, the uncanny, borderline disturbing radiant color of his eyes.
A blue too vibrant to look away from. It was far from comforting, really.
“I’ll be seeing you around, Megumi!” Satoru laughs, and because he has no damn sense of decorum, ruffles megumi’s hair, much to his dismay. “You stay outta trouble, ya hear?” He beams, a huge contrast to the disturbing news he was just about to break to the kid.
“Uh huh,” he hums, watching as he steps off. When out of sight, he scoffs.
“What a dummy..”
He doesn’t leave the area until the voice of his sister beckoning him over rings out through the alley from atop of the balcony. He takes a good look at where the sorcerer just was before slowly feuding his way back home, backpack straps clenched within his tiny fists.
──────
For a boy his age, Megumi is, for the most part, an emotionally intelligent, levelheaded kid. Other than a short temper, he’s always been good at simply ignoring the things that tick him off for the sake of his sanity.
But this? A grown man screaming out in the middle of a crowded street in front of a billion strangers? A very noticeably grown man, and a very obvious frightened looking child as the lanky weirdo sprints towards him, ignoring the cries and disgruntled curses of disagreement from the innocent people in which he shoves.
“Megumiiiii! Megumiii—!”
“Oh, no… no no no no no,” Megumi’s eyes widen, shaking his head to himself while simultaneously backing away slowly.
The calls of his name grow closer, and just as he turns on his heel to book it out of there, he’s tugged by the book-bag by an unnecessarily strong grip, and pulled backwards.
“Megumi, there ya are!”
A yelp escapes the boy as he’s lifted into the air, kicking his feet as he’s held like nothing, hanging by the armpits of his bag.
“Don’t ya know it’s dangerous to be walking home on your own like this? You could get kidnapped. Or worse, what if you get squished by car!?” Satoru gasps dramatically, arm extended out in front of him as he angles his hand so that the boy is facing him.
“Nothing—“ Megumi grunts, small feet kicking at the man’s torso to no avail, “is worse than this!”
“You make me sound like a monster.” Satoru whines in faux sadness.
“You might as well be!” By this time, the other patrons seem to dismiss the little scuffle as just a boy throwing a tantrum. For the most part, they aren’t wrong.
“Come on, I just wanted to check in on ya!”
“I’ll scream.” The boy deadpans, tiny fists shaking my his sides.
Satoru, pauses, the cocky smile on his face dropping slightly as a small bead of nervous sweat trickles down his temple.
“You won’t—“
“HELP! I DONT KNOW THIS MA— umpfff”
Satorus eyes widen as he clamps a large, sweaty hand over megumi’s mouth.
“Shhhhh shhh, alright, damn, kid!” He sets the boy back down on the floor, but still keeps his mouth clamped as he crouches down to his level. After touching down, Megumi goes quiet, but his silent rage is loud and clear as he glares and crosses his arms.
“Listen, I’ll make it up to ya with a an ice cream cone, huh? How ‘bout that? Actually, whatever dessert ya want, it’s yours! How’s that sound??” He questions desperately. After a beat, the boy nods, making the older man sigh in relief.
“Alright… now I’m gonna let ya go— fuck!”
With a gasp, Satoru pulls his hand back and clutches it to his chest. He glances down at his hand to see a curved row of lines engraved between his index and thumb, and he looks back up to see Megumi, spitting onto the pavement dramatically and wiping at his mouth as if he’d just consumed the worst thing imaginable.
After looking between him and the kid for a little bit out of pure disbelief, Satoru scoffs, “You little shit, you bit me!”
“You kidnapped me!” Megumi rebuttals, whipping around as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve.
“I was having a conversation with you,” the sorcerer stands to his full height, cradling his hand as he rubs the stinging spot with pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows. “You’re just like your father!”
“Shut up, crazy! I wanna go where you wanna take me so that we can get this over with. I need to get back home. I’ve got homework—“
“After you bit me? Hell no—!”
“I’ll tell the cops!” Megumi points and accusatory finger, and Satoru is genuinely shocked at just how… difficult he was.
“Fine! C’mon..” he mumbles, now sulking as he basically lets the boy lead him to whatever dessert shop he desired.
For the first time, Satoru felt… defeated. Beat by a child, no less.
──────
That same day, Satoru finds out that megumi’s favorite dessert is mochi ice cream. At least, it’s what he can assume after being demanded to order 10 pieces, all various flavors, before eating them before the frost can even melt.
The duo sit in a red-leathered booth within a quiet dessert shop. The golden rays of sun spill through the large window pane, painting the walls and floors of the shop a rich shade of orange. The sunset meaning that he’d soon have to be taking Megumi home. Within this time, the two take the time to learn about one another. Satoru is surprised when Megumi actually seems interested and asks questions! Albeit, very rudely.
“So, are you like… homeless?”
“Nope!” Satoru purses his lips,
“Then why are you always around on the street?”
“Maybe I just like going outside?” His silver brows dip down in annoyance.
“Don’t you have friends?”
“Yes.”
“That didn’t sound convincing.”
“I do!” He shouts, to which the boy stares blankly.
“… I do” Satoru persists
“I don’t know why you’re still trying to convince me.” Megumi shrugs.
“Because—!”
The light bickering continues to flow through the area, though to Megumi, it’s honestly the most amusement he’s had in what seemed like a while. Long over due.
“There’s my best friends Suguru, and Shoko— I’m like, super cool with all my teachers,” The man lists off with his fingers, looking away in thought.
“And most of all, my amazing, beautiful girlfriend!”
“Oh—“ a shaky chuckle rings out between them. Escaping megumi’s lips.
Satoru whips his head towards the boy, not knowing whether to be shocked or offended at the blatant laugh at his statement. On one hand, he’s happy he finally got to break that tough exterior of the little man. On the other, he doesn’t believe he’s got a partner. Doesn’t believe he’s got you.
“Something funny?” Satoru grins, crossing his arms and leaning back against the seat.
“There’s no way you have a girlfriend,” Megumi mumbles, shoving the last piece of mochi into his chubby cheeks. “Who the hell would date you?”
“Her, thank you very much!” He sits up, pouting. “And I sure do have a girlfriend. Soon to be wife, actually!”
“How muush ju pay ‘er?” The boy mumbles with a full mouth, still not believing a word he says.
“Nothing!” He gasps, offended. “I’ll have you know, her and I are very much in love. I’m sure you’ll meet her one day.” He huffs, confident.
Megumi shrugs, swallowing and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. A bad habit, Satoru notices.
“Whatever. Can we leave, now?”
“Sure,” Satoru goes to move, but pauses. “Aht aht, wait. Before I forgettt,” he rummages through his pockets before slipping out a pen and swiping a napkin from the holder before scribbling something down.
“Boom! That’s my number, and home address. In case of emergency.” He slides the napkin across the table. And though Megumi silently judges the sloppy writing, he simply sighs and pockets it.
“Sure, thanks.” He mumbles, and the two slip out the the booth, Satoru ruffling his hair just as they walk out the shop.
Satoru was.. weird. But he wasn’t bad. Megumi glanced up to Satoru, who looks as if he doesn’t have a care in the world as he he walks the boy home. Lost in his own stupid world. What was the end goal here? To be a babysitter? An older brother?
‘And the stupid address. Like I’d ever need that stupid thing.’ He thinks to himself
──────
2 days after
Right now, Megumi hates that the world is seemingly out to test his already thin patience. Of all of the beautifully sunny days this week, this had to be the one day in which it’s pouring raining.
And the weather wouldn’t usually bother the boy, if when he had gotten home, he had actually felt his home key in his pockets. He pats his shorts frantically, eyes widening when he can’t seem to locate them. His frustration grows as the weather grows heavier, rain pouring just slightly harder.
“Don’t tell me…” he groan to himself, simultaneously pounding in the front door with one hand as the other searches for his keys.
“Tsumiki!” He shouts, but to no avail. “Hell… I forgot she’s out the house.”
Feeling hopeless, Megumi slips his hands into his pocket and kicks at a rock, groaning. Only then does he feel… something, in his pocket. He furrows his brow, pulling out the item and pausing.
The napkin.
──────
Everything in megumi’s being is dreading knocking on this damn door. A fairly large, but simple house with a wooden patio. It’s kind of.. out of the way, which he finds surprising, knowing how dramatic the male is.
He sighs, double- checking the napkin again before sighing. He wipes his wet face, now sheltered from the pouring rain as he stand in the patio. With a hesitant hand, he knocks three times.
He almost thinks he didn’t knock loud enough as there wasn’t any sign of movement for a while, until he sees the light just to the side of him turn on through the window. Then, the soft padding of footsteps. A pause. And then suddenly, the door creaks open.
And before he can be displeased by the face of Satoru Gojo, his annoyance disappears when the sight of a woman appears instead. Confused, shocked, and curious as to what he’s probably doing here.
“Oh… sorry. Must have the wrong house.”
The lady stares at him with pinched brows, as if trying to put pieces together as to who he was. He pushes his lips into a thin line and begins to turn on his foot before the voice cuts him off.
“Are.. are you Megumi?” The woman asks, as the boy turns, surprised. How..?
“Uhm, yeah—“
To his shock, the lady straightens up, in an odd excitement. “Oh my goodness! Megumi! Come come, it’s pouring out here! What are you doing out here in this weather? Honey—!”
He watches as you turn your head over your shoulder and call out for… for your husband? Boyfriend? Wife? He didn’t know.. his brain was trying to piece together where all this excitement was coming from from this stranger. And… if this was Gojo’s home, then—
As if on cue, there’s a heavier thumping from behind the woman. He watches as she smiles, but Megumi’s expression is the exact opposite as the face of that… monster, pops up over the woman’s shoulder.
Immediately, Satorus face is etched with excitement, and he smiles.
“Megumi!? Whatcha doing here, kid? Come inside!” He chuckles, and as if he’s in auto pilot, tiny feet shuffle their way through the door. He can’t even take in the beautifully places decor. The house plants, the smell of fresh clothes and lemon. The in-taste furniture— no way this was his home.
“You.. you live here..?”
He glances between Satoru and the woman, and drops his mouth in shock when he approaches her, wrapping his arms around her middle and pressing a kind kiss to her cheek, to which he smile. Grins, actually.
“We, live here, actually.”
Megumi doesn’t like that tone…
“Is this..?”
“Megumi, this is y/n. My girlfriend of three years.”
You laugh at the shock on the kids face, shaking your head. “Hopefully he hasn’t been giving you any trouble, Megumi. I only knew you from how much he talks about you, it’s good to finally meet you. Will you be staying?”
For the first time, Megumi felt defeated. And as he looks at Satoru a stupid, smug face— he begrudging responds to your kind offer.
“Yes… please, if you don’t mind.”
#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#Gojo age#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x you#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#Megumi x reader fluff#jjk megumi#jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader#jutusu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.
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-> Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/f!Reader
-> Word count: 4.2k
-> Rating: 18+→ Mature/Explicit
->Genre/Tropes: Romance, Mutual Pining, Romantic/Sexual Tension, One-shot, Fluff, Fun, (a sprinkle of angst), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Childhood Friends to Lovers.)
-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Heartbreak, Writer's Block/Creative Struggles, Alcohol Consumption, Use of fake dagger? Other Additional Tags to Be Added.
-> Synopsis: Hyunjin, a successful author, can’t seem to write a decent romance scene anymore. When you, his childhood friend, visit him for the weekend and discover his creative block, you propose a bold solution: recreating the scenes together. The only catch? Hyunjin insists that you be his partner.
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The coffee shop was about to close.
The streets were a bit busy, as it was almost Christmas time. Most of the stores were filled with people rushing to buy last-minute gifts.
The cold wind carried the scent of witch hazel from the flower shop nearby, mixed with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts and cinnamon from street vendors. Beneath the glow of streetlights, the snow sparkled like scattered diamonds, and laughter echoed as couples and families hurried by, their breath visible in the frosty air.
Your feet didn’t move as you saw Hyunjin at the counter, smiling at a young lady as he completed her payment. It hadn’t been long—just a year and a half, in fact—but it felt like years since you had last seen him. He reminded you so much of when he was younger: playful eyes, still flirty, and that sweet smile that never failed to make your stomach flip.
After countless copies of his books were sold, he still lived above the coffee shop. You remembered when he asked you to help him move there. You still had that bittersweet taste in your mouth after leaving Hyunjin by himself and returning to the countryside alone.
Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your bag and crossed the street. The bell above the door chimed as you entered, and warmth immediately wrapped around you. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee blended with the buttery scent of croissants and the sweet spice of cinnamon rolls. Your stomach growled in response.
You walked to the counter, and your gaze met Hyunjin’s.
His eyes widened briefly before a slow smile tugged at his lips. Surprise melted into something sharper, a piercing stare that almost stole your breath away.
Tilting his head, he asked, “Why is there a witch in my coffee shop?”
You smiled back. “If you don’t want to be cursed,” you replied, leaning on the counter, “I’d suggest making me something to eat.”
“So demanding,” he said, shaking his head. “Give me five minutes.” He disappeared into the kitchen. His voice echoed from inside, and you couldn't help but smile at his loud giggle.
Looking around, you noticed an empty table in the corner near a wall full of quotes. One caught your eye: “I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” — Alice in Wonderland. It used to be Hyunjin's favorite as a child.
Hyunjin returned five minutes later, carrying a plate of food.
“Here you go, my dear witch.”
He sat across from you, his gaze fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing he’d seen in years. His black hair was slightly tousled, and it had grown since you last saw him, curling at the ends. His white shirt was rumpled, and yet he looked just as princely as the first time you met him as a child.
“What? Missed me that much?” you teased.
His brow arched slightly before he asked, “How are you doing, Y/N?” in that soft voice of his.
“To be honest, I’m doing well. Life has been kind to me.”
It had been five years since you moved to the countryside to live on your own. It was your dream since childhood, when you lived with your grandma during the summers; and even though all your friends were in the city for college, you chose to stay.
“I’m happy to hear that,” he said. “And your grandma?”
“She’s on a cruise with my mom,” you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. “Can you imagine those two stuck together on a ship?”
He laughed, and you felt your heart race at the sight. His head tilted back, eyes crinkling into crescents.
“I give it two days before they’re at each other’s throats,” you quipped.
“Two days?” he said, still chuckling. “You’re being generous. Your grandma’s probably having the time of her life annoying your mom.”
The bell above the door jingled, and a small group of students entered, their chatter filling the cozy space. Hyunjin stood, brushing off his hands, still smiling. “Eat. You’re home—head upstairs when you’re done. They’re my last customers, and I’ll close up after.”
You nodded and turned your attention to the plate in front of you. The food was every bit as delicious as you’d hoped, and Minho hadn’t been exaggerating about the Tiramisu—it was the best dessert you had ever had.
After finishing, you gathered your things and started toward the stairs, only to hear Hyunjin call out. He jogged over, pulling something from his pocket. “Keys,” he said, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he tossed them to you.
You caught them midair, raising an eyebrow. “Still trusting me with these after all these years?”
He winked before turning back to the counter. “Always.”
His apartment was a blend of a library and an art studio. Bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with novels, sketchbooks, and scattered trinkets from his travels. Canvases rested against the corners of the room, some blank, others adorned with half-finished paintings. A faint scent of paint lingered in the air, mixing with the subtle sweetness of the winter jasmine that drifted in through the open balcony door. You chuckled. He hadn’t changed at all.
You walked to the guest room. It was simple, with just a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. You placed your bag in the corner and let yourself fall onto the bed. It was soft and smelled fresh—Hyunjin must have just put on clean sheets. You grabbed your phone and sent a message to your mom, letting her know you were at Hyunjin’s, and another in the group chat with your friends. You were here for your yearly winter reunion with your childhood friends. This year, it would be at Chan’s apartment.
The apartment door creaked open, followed by the sound of a lock clicking into place. Hyunjin’s voice carried through the quiet space. “Love?”
You rolled your eyes, letting out a soft snort. His footsteps were nearly silent, but you sensed his presence before you saw him. He appeared in the doorway of the guest room, leaning casually against the frame, a bottle in hand. “Strawberry wine?”
The sweet wine slid down smoothly. It was dizzying in the best way, loosening muscles that had been tight since you’d stepped on the train to the city.
“So, the reunion,” Hyunjin started, swirling his glass of wine lazily. “Changbin’s girlfriend is coming. Nervous?”
Changbin had been your first love, and for a long time, you regretted ending things. You thought that if you’d been stronger, you might still be together. Maybe you could have fought harder, tried to make the long-distance relationship work. But you didn’t. Then time did its thing, and eventually, you moved on.
You met his gaze steadily, though the question tugged at an old scar. “He’s my best friend at the end of the day.”
This would also be the first time Hyunjin and Felix would be with the rest of the group in the same room.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said quickly. “Hard to believe, but I’ve moved on too.”
It was hard to believe. He had been a mess after his breakup. It was the worst you’d ever seen him.
You were at Chan’s apartment that evening, watching a movie on the couch, when the door slammed open. Hyunjin stumbled in, his face red, tears streaming down his cheeks. His chest heaved as though he couldn’t catch his breath, one hand clutching the fabric of his shirt over his heart.
“It hurts,” he choked out. That was all he could manage before his knees gave out, and Chan rushed to catch him.
You’d only seen him like this once before, years ago, because of his parents. He clung to Chan like he was the only thing keeping him steady, reduced to sobs that wracked his entire body; his fingers digging into his friend’s shirt as he gasped for air between cries.
For days, he stayed in bed, barely speaking. He’d stare blankly at the ceiling or curl into himself, clutching a pillow as though it could shield him from the pain. It took weeks before he could even crack a small smile, and months before that smile felt genuine again.
“So, what’s your new book about this time?” you asked, wanting to talk about something else.
He groaned. “Nothing.”
You frowned. Hyunjin’s mind was never without a story. “What happened this time?”
He smiled faintly. “If I tell you, will you solve the problem?”
“No,” you said.
He eyed you. “Maybe.”
His eyebrow arched. “Probably,” you gave up.
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re just like when we were kids, trying to solve all the problems in the world.”
“Don’t change the subject,” you said.
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and licked his lips before meeting your gaze. “I know the story. It’s just... some scenes don’t feel natural. I think I don’t know how to write romance anymore.” Then, tilting his head with a smirk, he added, “Do you have a spell to fix it?”
You threw a cushion at his head as his laughter filled the night.
The next morning was a sunny Saturday. You stayed in bed for at least an hour before finally getting up. You hadn’t fallen asleep until 1 a.m., trying to come up with a solution to Hyunjin’s problem. You couldn’t help it; you loved solving them.
Eventually, an idea came to you.
Hyunjin was in the kitchen, wearing a white shirt so large it slipped off his collarbones, holding an apple in one hand.
“Isn’t it too early for you to bother me?” he mumbled.
You smiled at his annoyed tone. He had always been like that when he woke up at your grandma’s house after sleepovers.
“I thought about what you said last night,” you said, pouring coffee into a yellow mug and sitting across from him at the table. “About your writing.”
His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. “Haven’t I told you not to bother with this?”
“Actually, no, you didn’t. Besides, when have I ever listened to you?”
He closed his eyes, his mouth opening and closing as if the words were hard to form. Then he rolled his eyes and said, “Speak.”
You sipped your coffee before continuing, “What if you tried recreating a scene? You know, live it out—get into the character’s head.”
He stilled mid-bite, his expression skeptical. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve heard a lot of writers do that. Whether it’s fight scenes or dance scenes, some even take classes to understand them better.”
“Tonight, you’re going back home,” he deadpanned.
You pressed on. “It can work. At least you should try it!”
Hyunjin was silent for a while before finishing his apple and taking a gulp of his coffee. He leaned back in his chair. “And I suppose the person I’d recreate it with would be you. Is that your way of telling me you’re interested in me?”
You looked away, embarrassed. “Of course not!” The warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your calm tone. “And it doesn’t need to be me. We can find someone you’re more comfortable with.”
He got up and came closer to you. His hands were in his pockets, but you felt caged by his stare. He looked up and put a hand to his lips, tilting his head slightly, until his whole body stopped.
His eyes met yours.
“It’s not you that’s the problem.”
“What is it then? You? It’s not me; the problem is you.” You sighed. “If your books are as cliché as you—”
“My books are good.”
“And if you want to write another one, you need to work on your field research.”
“Is that what you call making out with me?”
“It is now.”
He opened his mouth, then sank his teeth into his lower lip. For a moment, you couldn’t stop staring. When you realized you were mirroring his action, you looked into his eyes. He seemed to be searching for something, but then you saw his shoulders relax, and his eyes closed.
Hyunjin sighed dramatically, crossing the room to grab a notebook. “Fine. Let’s try it.”
“Wait—‘we’?” you asked, taken aback.
He turned, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You’re the one who suggested it, love. Field research, remember?”
Hyunjin leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. The faint glow of his laptop screen illuminated his concentrated expression. Next to him, you watched the rays of sunlight slip through the drawn curtains, while absently turned a fake dagger between your fingers—a prop he had picked up at one of his book signings.
“So, they can’t be together, even if they have feelings for each other, because he’s immortal, and she has to die tomorrow for him to claim the throne and start a war?” you asked.
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen.
“Got it.” But the truth was, you didn’t. Your hands were clammy, your heart pounding so loudly you wondered if he could hear it.
The way he avoided your eyes didn’t help. You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to stay steady. “If this makes you uncomfortable, we can find someone else—”
“There’s no one else,” he answered, his tone firm. “And I’m not uncomfortable.”
You studied his face, looking for any hint of hesitation. “Are you sure?”
He nodded and finally met your gaze. His stare sets you ablaze. We’ll only pretend. Nothing more, you remind yourself.
You licked your lips before asking with a small smile, “Not even nervous?”
He arched an eyebrow. His hand brushed your waist, and you saw the shift in his eyes—intense and almost hypnotic.
“I don’t think I’m the only one who’s nervous,” he said. His smirk deepened, and, in one swift motion, he pulled you closer. “Whenever you’re ready, little witch,” he teased.
With slightly trembling hands, you grabbed the dagger and placed it against his throat.
“You think I won’t do it?” you said, reciting the line from his book, though your voice wavered.
"You don’t have the courage," he said, his voice low and taunting.
"Of course I have," you lied, gripping the dagger tighter.
His breath hitched, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before snapping back to your eyes.
"So, do it," he whispered.
You don’t answer. Instead, you lean into him, your lips brushing his in a kiss that starts soft but deepens almost instantly.
It took you to somewhere far from reality. Was that really happening? Were you really making out with your childhood friend for the sake of a book?
His hand slides to the back of your neck and you tilt your head, pressing closer. He makes a low sound in his throat that sends a thrill through you.
When you finally broke apart, you were breathless, your lips swollen and your heart racing.
Hyunjin’s gaze is heavy-lidded, staring at you, his pupils blown wide, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.
“I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat.
Hyunjin’s lips twitched, his eyes darkening in amusement. “What’s wrong? Afraid to take the next step?”
Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “No,” you shot back, though your voice wavered.
You hadn’t expected kissing him to feel so… right. Like finally finding the missing piece of a puzzle.
Hyunjin’s eyes searched for yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingered, testing you, daring you.
“Then prove it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you again, but he stopped short. His gaze flicked between your eyes and lips. “What would they do next?”
You swallowed hard, caught between the roles you were meant to play and the reality of what you felt. “They wouldn’t stop.”
Hyunjin’s lips curved into a smirk, “No,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t think they would.”
He leaned forward, capturing your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation.
Hyunjin’s hand slides from your neck to your waist, pulling you into him until you're straddling his lap. The laptop, once forgotten, slides, together with the dagger, to the floor with a soft thud.
Your breath hitches as his lips leave yours, trailing a hot, open-mouthed path along your jaw, neck, and the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groans, the sound reverberating against your skin.
“You’re so…” Hyunjin’s voice falters, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his words almost too much to say. “Irresistible.”
You feel his lingering smirk as his hands roam lower, gripping your hips and holding you in place as you rock against him.
“Hyunjin,” you breathe, your voice breaking on his name. You try to remind yourself that every kiss is just pretend. You are only recreating a scene.
He lifts his head, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression raw and vulnerable. “Say my name like you mean it, love. You know you want to,” he says, his thumb brushing your lips.
Your lips part, and you lean forward, kissing him again. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it upward until he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside. You pause at the sight of him—his skin smooth and warm, taut over lean muscle, the sunlight spilling through the curtains painting him in golden hues.
You reach for him, your fingers brushing the curve of his jaw and the dip of his collarbone; he shivers at your touch.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them.
“Am I?” His brows lift, the corners of his lips tilting into a mischievous grin. “If I remember correctly, you once called me a frog.”
You laugh as Hyunjin’s hands trace the curve of your waist. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss as he explores you slowly, savoring every moment.
His fingers curl under the hem of your shirt, and he says against your lips, “Is this okay?” His voice is thick and unsteady for just a moment, making your heart coil inside you.
“Yes,” you whisper, trembling with anticipation. “Please.”
He bites his lips, eyes darkening; and then he’s pulling your shirt up, over your head, revealing your bare skin to the soft glow of the sunlight.
Hyunjin freezes for a moment, his gaze roaming over you like you’re... something precious. You need to remind yourself that it’s not real, that both of you are just pretending—for the sake of the book.
Hyunjin’s plump lips capture yours messily. "I dreamed about this," he says between kisses.
He leans down, his lips brushing the curve of your collarbone, then lower, to the swell of your breast. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
You arch into his touch, your body instinctively seeking more, and he takes the hint, his mouth closing over your nipple. He sucks softly, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there as he switches to the other, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak before nipping it lightly with his teeth.
“Hyunjin,” you gasp, your hips bucking against him.
He groans, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he moves, pinning you against the couch. His hips grind against yours, the hard press of him sparking a heat that blooms low in your belly.
He grips your waist before sliding your pants down, taking your underwear with them, leaving you bare beneath him.
You feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at you—his gaze consumed by desire, his lips parted—erases any hesitation.
He kisses his way down your body, his hands following the path of his mouth, brushing over your hips, your thighs, until he’s settled between your legs.
His lips trail over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his breath warm against you as he moves closer, his hands gently spreading you. “You want me, hm?” His voice drops to a teasing whisper. “Tell me, love, what exactly do you need?”
You moan, almost begging. “Stop messing with me.”
He chuckles and finally leans in. Hyunjin’s tongue traces a path along your slick folds. Your body jolts at the sensation, back arching as a strangled moan escapes your lips.
His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as his tongue circles, flicks, and plays with your clit. You can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips, your hands holding his curls tight.
“Hyunjin,” you gasp, voice high and breathless.
He looks up at you, lips glistening, gaze burning with desire, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “If you keep doing that, love, I might not be able to stop.”
Your hips buck against him, body chasing the building pleasure as he slips a finger inside, then another, curling them in a way that makes you see stars. He pumps them slowly at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue, then faster as your breaths come in short, sharp gasps.
“Hyunjin, I’m—”
You shatter, body tightening around his fingers as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cry out, holding him against you as he guides you through your climax, his movements slowing but never stopping.
When you finally calm, your chest rising and falling with each breath, he traces his kisses back up your body, his lips lingering on your skin as though he can’t get enough of you. The firm length of his cock presses against your thigh, sending another rush of arousal through you.
His eyes search for yours, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “We don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to,” he says, his voice soft, careful.
“I do,” you say, reaching for him, your hands finding the waistband of his pants. “I want this,” you add, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.
Hyunjin’s breath catches as he helps you push his pants and boxers down. You swallowed, taking him in—hard, heavy, and glistening with arousal. “I’ve never been more sure.”
For a moment, he freezes, his eyes locked on yours, and you realize what you’ve just said. You silently hope he thinks it’s the character speaking and not the hypothesis that you might be way more into him than you thought.
His forehead drops to yours as he pushes into you, slow and steady, filling you inch by inch until you feel impossibly full. Your body stretches around him, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he whispers, his voice a broken plea, “my goddess.”
You can’t speak, can only nod as he begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm. His thrusts grow deeper as he leans down to capture your lips again. The kiss is fierce, almost desperate, his tongue sliding against yours before his lips suck, lick, and bite yours repeatedly.
Your legs wrap around his waist; the friction between you sparking waves of pleasure. He moans into your mouth, his hands sliding under you to tilt your hips, fucking you harder.
“Hyunjin,” you whimper.
Your hands roam over his back, nails scraping lightly against his skin, and you feel him shudder above you. You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, each movement sending shockwaves through you. The pressure coils low in your belly as your body tightens around him. “Just like that,” you said.
Hyunjin’s hand slips between you, his thumb finding your sensitive clit. He circles it with just the right amount of pressure, matching the rhythm of his hips. Your vision blurs as you tumble over the edge.
“I can feel you,” he moans, his voice nearly a whimper. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”
Your only response is a gasp, your head tilting back as you surrender to the pleasure. His lips trail down your throat, sucking and biting gently, leaving marks you know will linger.
He moans, his rhythm faltering as your release triggers his own. His body tenses, a shudder running through him as he buries himself deep, his cum spilling into you. Hyunjin’s face nestled in your neck as he says your name and comes apart in your arms.
Both of you lay tangled together, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. Hyunjin lifted his head slowly, brushing damp strands of hair from your face as he looked down at you. His thumb traced the curve of your lips, his gaze soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name.
“You’re incredible,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“So are you,” you whispered, your hands sliding up to cup his face. You kissed him softly, languidly, savoring the moment.
When he finally pulled away, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as your breaths evened out. “I think I’ll have no trouble writing now,” he said, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips.
You laughed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “I’d say we got into character pretty well.”
Hyunjin chuckled softly, his fingers brushing over your skin as he lay next to you. “You know, I think I have a few other scenes I could work on…” His words trailed off as you suddenly pushed him off the couch.
“And be late for Chan's party? Never.” You teased, raising an eyebrow.
“What a witch,” he laughed, his eyes warm with affection as he got up and went to the bathroom.
You watched him walk away, trying to ignore how your heart raced. For now, you pretended it was just a fleeting feeling, hoping—really hoping—that there would be more scenes to recreate.
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Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.
Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕
Copyright © 2025 by Writerastray.
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as a junho lover i am BEGGING you to please release the fic you had 😭😭😭😭
Hwang Jun-Ho x detective! Reader
Words: 3970
google docs pages: 6
Warnings: Platonic relationship mostly, but squint and it’s not. Squid Game season 1 spoilers, violence, guns, choking, character death but not major.
Opening: You and Jun-ho are colleagues and your shift tonight would only consist of being on patrol. This leads to a lot of talking as per usual, before you spot something suspicious.
AN// G/N reader. A lot of you wanted me to post this ancient piece of media back up, so your wish is my command. This was actually fun for me to read as well. This was last posted in 2021 and soon after deleted, no memory of why I did that :”D. But I hope yall will still enjoy this s1 inspired fic ! And before anyone asks, I won't write a pt 2 for this, since I don't remember where I was taking this story initially;(
“I know you miss him.”
You were walking behind Jun-ho towards his car. Tonight's shift would be just you and him on patrol. There was nothing surprising with that, since he was your partner and you had gotten to know him pretty well over the years. But the problem was that you hadn’t slept well last night, and you had forgotten to bring your lunch while in a hurry this morning. So this meant that you'd either have to be without food the whole night or beg for Jun-ho to stop for a moment before the stores closed.
You watched how Jun-ho unlocked the doors of the car. The front lights lit up for a second, Indicating the doors had opened. He stepped into the driver's seat and sat down. You soon followed and sat down on the seat next to him. Nothing out of the ordinary, another normal shift.
The car was almost fully white, with two stripes going on both of the sides. The smaller stripe was yellow and on top of that was a larger stripe in blue. Under the stripes was text that said ‘Police’. On the roof of the car, there were the usual police red and blue lights but also a bigger light for searching in the dark. The seats were fully black, like most of the car was on the inside.
Jun-ho started the car, and slowly drove away from the police office. The sun had gone down a little bit ago, and slowly but surely the street lights had turned on. It had rained earlier that day, so the streets were a little wet still. The car had no lights on inside, only the lights on the control board were illuminating a soft light against whatever it managed to touch. The street lamps passing by allowing some more light to come in every once in a while. This was exactly what you were used to, since the two of you had been on night patrol a lot recently.
You sat in silence as Jun-ho drove through the familiar streets. Watching the yellowish lights as they passed you, one by one. Your gaze wandered off to Jun-ho. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling, since he was only looking at the road with no defined expression on his face. He had told you on your last shift that he hadn’t seen his brother in a while, but you weren’t sure if he had been found already or not. Not sure if it was appropriate to ask about it again, seeing as it might have been a sensitive topic. But if Jun-ho was feeling out of it, you weren’t sure if he should be working a night shift.
“Hey, could we stop by a store? I forgot my ‘lunch’, and I don't want to pull an all-nighter without anything to eat.” You requested with a hint of embarrassment in your voice. But it was either this or having to suffer through the night with no food. Either way, this was maybe the best way to start a conversation, to see how your partner was doing. Jun-ho turned his gaze at you for a little bit before he replied. “Sure, just make it quick.” He said with a nod.
Soon the car pulled up near a store and you left to grab something to eat. Knowing that you didn't have a lot of time, you just took the nearest thing that happened to be some sort of a salad. You grabbed the nearest energy drink just to be sure the night would pass smoothly, and went to pay. As you were walking back to the car, you saw Jun-ho writing something on his phone. Not thinking much of it, and seating yourself back down next to him. “Sorry for this. I’ll try to wake up earlier next time.” You apologized, while placing the food on the back seat. “It’s okay. You didn’t waste much time.” He hummed as a reply, and started the car again. The small walkie talkie that he had connected to his belt was making noise. The other officers that were on the same shift seemed to be actively talking right now. This didn’t worry you yet, since they would have contacted you two if something was going on nearby.
After a while of going around the part of the town you were supposed to patro, you reached back to get the energy drink. Staying up late last night had started to turn against you, starting to feel awfully worn out by now. Your eyes were looking at the almost empty streets, as you lifted the can up to your lips.
Your gaze detected movement on the road, and soon seeing a dog crossing the street. Jun-ho didn’t seem to be bothered by it, continuing on. Panicking for a moment when the realisation hit you that he must have not seen the damn thing. You quickly put the can on the cup holder. “Stop, there’s a dog!” You exclaimed to Jun-ho. His eyes widened and he pressed down the brakes. The car stopped just in time, and the dog crossed the road quickly, with its tail in between its legs. Your body almost hit the dashboard, but thankfully your seat belt held you in place. You were both staring at the road with widened eyes. All you could hear was heavy breathing that was coming from the both of you.
You slowly leaned back and rested your body on the seat. “Pull the car on the side of the road.” You demanded quietly, voice firm. Jun-ho did as you requested, and parked the car on the side. “How did you not see the dog?” You asked in a much calmer voice, body seemingly still in some form of shock. You didn’t want to be mean to him, since it could have just been a mistake on his part. “I was in my thoughts. I’m sorry for putting you in danger.” Jun-ho sighed, with his gaze avoiding you. “Now, you look at me and tell me what is going on. You seem totally out of it?” You huffed and tilted your head in confusion. It took him a while, but he turned to look at you again. “And now the second part. Are you doing okay?” You asked the question in a different way so he couldn’t avoid the topic. “I’m doing just fine. I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I promise.” Jun-ho tried to convince you.
He turned away to start the car again, but you had other plans. “Have they found your brother yet?” You asked with a more monotone voice. Trying to dig a little deeper this time. Straight after saying this, Jun-ho stopped completely for a brief moment. “He’s…still missing.” The man admitted quietly while looking at the windshield. He leaned back on the seat like you had done and closed his eyes. You furrowed your brows in worry. Before you were able to reply, he continued. “I have reported him as missing already, but they can’t seem to find him. I have some evidence of..something but nothing that would actually help.” He pressed his palms against the steering wheel firmly, eyes opening again.
You looked at him with a freshly formed frown on your face. “What's the evidence you’ve found so far?” You asked, interested in the topic because you wanted to help him. “A card with a circle, triangle and a square on it. My brother had one in his room and I recently saw another man have a similar card. They’re related but I don’t know how.” Jun-ho replied, and turned his gaze back to you with sorrow behind his eyes. “Well, have you talked to the man yet? Maybe he knows what’s going on?” You tilted your head. “I tried to, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to tell me anything..” The man sighed again, but this time with more frustration. “I know you miss him, but you can’t give up. Did you see what was written on the card?” You patted his shoulder, an attempt to wipe the saddened look off of his face. “There was only a number on the back, nothing more.” He explained, not much to go off of. “We need a little more evidence to really start looking into this, but I can try to help you. I’m sure we can find him.” You tried to smile a little and offered a hug to him. Jun-ho looked at you for a moment and accepted the offer.
After you had pulled back from the hug, the walkie talkie started to make noise again. Jun-ho answered it quickly. The person talking to Jun-ho told him to switch cars to a civil one, because they had spotted something going on near you two. Jun-ho ended the call, and started the car again. “Seems like we’ve got a case on our hands.” He hummed, and pulled the car back on the road. Like nothing had happened.
At this hour it was fully dark. Only the street lights, signs and the lights from the car broke veil the darkness. There were only a few people walking on the streets, most likely coming from a bar.
Before you knew it, you had arrived all the way back to the police office. You could barely see the whole building in the dark, the city having not invested a whole lot on the building. Jun-ho took the keys from the car and stepped out. You took your items and followed him, hurrying to the side of the car he was standing by. He led you to a fully black car, around the corner from the office. “Let’s be quick.” He stated quietly and opened the door to the passenger seat. You smiled at him kindly, and stepped in. He soon sat down on the driver's side and pulled the car onto the road. “Where are we going?” You asked while putting on your seat belt. “Here.” Jun-ho said as he was typing the location on the navigator. You didn’t recognize the street’s name, but you decided to not ask where it was located. You’d see soon enough. “Did they tell you what was going on there?” You asked for more information, hoping that Jun-ho didn’t mind. “Someone who we have been looking for has been reported to be in that area. We were called to check if he’s still there.” Jun-ho quickly explained while driving faster. You two didn’t have time to lose, since the man could get away any moment.
The navigator kept giving directions, and Jun-ho was following them. You seemed to be getting closer by the second. But suddenly Jun-ho slowed down the whole car. “What are you doing?” You questioned your partner. But what you didn’t know was that he had seen something far more important to him than the person you two had been called to look for. “That’s him. That’s the man that had the same card as my brother.” Jun-ho said quietly before he started to back up the car. He backed in the shadows and turned off the lights from the car. “I might get fired for this, but I'll make sure that you’ll be fine.” The man murmured, as his eyes were following Gi-hun get picked up by a big van. “Wait- Are you trying to tell me that you’ll disobey the request to find the man the office has been looking for just to follow him? What if we end up in danger? There’s no backup.” Your heart beat got faster the more you thought about this. This didn’t seem like the worst case scenario was going to be fired, but something way worse. “This might be my only chance to get to know where my brother is. I’m not letting this go.” He replied with confidence in his voice.
As much as you appreciated and trusted this man, you weren’t sure if you should tell him no. And even if you did, would he even listen at this point. Before you had time to say anything against his plan, the van started to drive away. Jun-ho started to slowly shadow it. He had turned off all the lights from the car, and he wasn’t using the headlights either. You had never been in a situation like this, but there was no getting out of this now.
“Do you have a phone?” Jun-ho asked with a more serious tone. “Y-yes, why?” You asked but still showed him your phone. It was almost fully charged, only a few percents missing. “Good. Just in case we get separated.” He nodded and kept following the van. “So are you saying we might? We’re not getting out of this car are we?” You asked in a panicked voice. “You don’t have to. But I want to know what’s going on. They’re clearly going somewhere and my brother has to be somewhere with them.” Jun-ho spoke, attention clearly keen on the van.
Soon the van stopped. The navigator showed that you were close to a port. Suddenly you were able to see multiple of the same kind of van going the same way. They all turned and started to drive towards a cargo ship. There was a lot of space for all the vans and some people with red clothing showing where the vans should be parked. Seemingly a well orchestrated operation, whatever this was.
Jun-ho stopped the car and parked it so that it wouldn’t be too easy to see. “Now. You stay here, and I’ll call you in a little bit once I have found out what's going on here.” Jun-ho started to undo his seat belt and get out. “Wait- We don’t even know who these people are, and we don’t have any backup. What if they come and ask what I’m doing here?” You started to get restless. “Just..” Jun-ho had to think about this for a moment. “Tell them you’re waiting for your boyfriend.” He finally said and closed the door. Your eyes widened for a moment but before you could form any words, he was gone.
There were more lights near the port, so it was easy to see all the grey vans enter the ship. There were huge yellow towers built to hover on top of the bridge that led to the ship that had multiple bright lights showing the way to the drivers of the vans. There didn’t seem to be anyone else but more of the people with the red suits. The situation unfolding before your eyes, seemingly sketchier by the minute.
It was hard to see, but you could make out where Jun-ho was standing. He took out his phone and started to type something. You started to look even more worried. Now wasn’t the best time to start looking at your phone. The worry caused your hand to start wandering closer to the door handle. Your eyes were still focused on him, and you saw when he switched the phone to a gun. Only hoping it was loaded full, but it wasn’t safe anyway to go on a mission like this with only one gun anyway.
As your hand started to open the door, Jun-ho ran from the place he was hiding in. From what you could see he had hidden behind one of the vans. “Damn it..” You cussed under your breath and got out of the car. After making sure that there was no one around, you ran towards another van, and copied what he did. You got on your back and quickly got under the van. Quickly finding something to hold on to and lift your body up from the ground.
Soon after doing this the vans started to all move in the cargo ship. There was some talking you could hear, and after that the ship left the port. You had no idea where the two of you were going, but you had to follow your partner. You would never forgive yourself if he never came back from this mission that no one even had an idea you two were on. Knowing no one would believe you if you told them Jun-ho had disappeared just like his brother.
The vans you had gotten under were neatly parked next to each other, near the back of the ship. You saw him shift and then get up, still staying behind the van. You took a quiet deep breath and followed his lead. “Hey.” You whispered quietly, so that no one would hear you. With a quick movement he was pointing his gun at you, before he realised who it was. “What are you doing?! I told you to stay in the car?” He whispered back with tension in his voice. “And I’d go to the office alone, to explain to the boss where you had disappeared? As if they’d believe me.” You murmured back. He then quickly switched to your side. “Do you have your gun?” He whispered close to your ear. You shivered slightly at this, placing your hand over the firearm. “I do, it’s full,” you whispered back. He only nodded at you and went to peek over the edge of the van. While he was doing that someone started to talk through a microphone. “Check the players,” echoed through the ship. With this the side doors of the vans opened by themselves.
“Get in.” Jun-ho whispered quickly before he stepped in one of the vans. Without another thought you stepped in the van that Jun-ho had been under, ready to follow his lead. Knowing by now how sensitive this situation was. One wrong move, and you’d truly see what these men dressed in red were truly up to.
Your eyes scanned the people sitting in the van. You couldn’t see too well, no lights on in the vans. But no matter how well you looked, you couldn’t see anyone that even slightly looked like Jun-ho’s brother. Before you knew it, you heard the drivers of the cars step out. Your eyes widened. The only thing you could think of was to pretend to be one of the people in the van.
You sat down on one of the seats at the back, and pretended to sleep. You were able to open one of your eyes slightly, trying to stay up to date on what was happening. You saw a masked person with a full red suit and a black mask with a white circle on it. They were scanning the other people in the van by checking something from behind their ears. You had no idea what Jun-ho was going to do, but as the suited person started to come closer to you. Knowing you didn’t have whatever the others had gotten placed behind their ears, you prepared to attack the suited man.
They tested one of your ears and then turned your head to test your other ear. Not being able to find the chip they were looking for. You opened your eyes and quickly attacked them. You hit the mask so that the person fell backwards, buying yourself some time. While they were trying to get up, you moved behind them. The person tried to stab you with a black knife, but you dodged it. You took a hold of their wrist and repeatedly hit it against the seats of the van, until they let go of the knife. With that you hit their head with your knee and began to choke them. Trying to make as little noise as possible as to not alert any of their companions.
The van moved a little as the person struggled until they started to go limp. You let go of the pink suited person, and took a deep breath. Your heart beat was going crazy at this point, and your hands were shaking. Not once during your time as a detective had you had to fight like this for your life. The idea of you two being alone on this mission, and not even knowing if Jun-ho was alive scared you.
You knew that you didn’t have a lot of time, so you began to strip the pink suit off the person. It was better to hide in plain sight, especially if they were all dressed the same. You took off the mask as well and dressed up. You had no clue what the job of this person was, other than checking the players and driving the van, but maybe you’d be able to just follow the others. After getting the suit on, you took your tag that showed who you were off, and placed it in the pocket of the person that was now wearing your clothes.
After that you lifted up the body of the person, attempting to drag them outside the van. Not being used to doing something like this made it hard to lift up a whole body alone. While struggling you wobbled to the edge of the ship, and dropped the body in water. After this you turned around to see where you were supposed to go, you saw another pink suited person. They heard you and turned around. You froze up, not really having a plan to go off of. You felt a tap on your shoulder. “I saw what you did.” A man’s voice said. You could tell it was Jun-ho’s, since it was more muffled due to the mask. But you took the gamble. “You did the same,” You mumbled back. The other masked person made no move to harm you, confirming you’d been correct.
“Hey, you two!” You both turned to look at who was talking to you. There was a person in a pink suit, but this one had a triangle on the mask and a gun. Behind them there was another pink suited person. Only, they had a square on their mask and no gun in hand. You were too stressed out to say anything, and you assumed Jun-ho could sense this since he started to talk. “This is...They were feeling sea sick.” Jun-ho said to the triangle. They didn’t reply, but the square stepped forward, pointing their gun down.
Their behaviour made you wonder if the symbols on their masks had something to do with their ranking system. Attempting to figure it out while Jun-ho was conversing with them. Square, then triangle, and that left the circle. And if it was the last one it meant that it was the lowest position. “Did you forget the rules?” A man’s voice said from behind the square mask. “You do not speak without your supervisor’s approval.” They continued. You were trying to make your breathing as calm as possible, so that the square wouldn’t notice anything. “Go wait in the cabin,” the square ordered. He gave you and Jun-ho a stare before walking away, taking the triangle with him.
After they had left you put your hand on your chest to take a breather. You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into, and you couldn’t even blame Jun-ho. You had killed a random man a minute ago and after that you were pointed a gun at, and it was most likely only going to get worse from here.
“Are you doing alright?” Jun-ho’s voice asked, as he kneeled down a little, and pulled your upper body back up by your shoulder. “We have to get to these ‘cabins’, just follow me. Please?” Jun-ho kept talking to you. Giving you a moment to recollect yourself after the encounter. “I’ll recover, I just need to rest for a moment…” You exhaled while looking at your shaky hands. With that you nodded and Jun-ho started to walk up the stairs, where the other circles had gone as well.
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