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#just some delusional thoughts at the end of this work week
zeeohoh · 24 hours
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OBX RAFE SMUT | MINORS DNI !
Tags : arguing, toxic!rafe, reader has female anatomy, oral, oral smut, slight fluff at the end(?).
A/N : NOT PROOF READ.
//
Rafe had been avoiding you for weeks now, his work, his dad, his friends, he has a million excuses to not see you, and you've finally had enough.
You were sat on your bed, watching Notting Hill, you had seen this movie a million times but hey, it's your favourite, you can never have enough.
It's a 21:00 on a Saturday, you were *supposed* to see Rafe, or at least, you had hoped you would, he's been blowing you off for weeks now, you guys had been going out for a few weeks but not everyone knew, and it would've been hard for anyone to believe it either because of how he treated you when you were around people you knew, it was like the better and comfortable you felt with him, the terrible he made you feel in public, in simple terms, he treated you like shit, Absolute. Pure. Shit. As if you're some fuck toy or something to help distract him and you only meant something to him when his body was on yours. You didn't entirely feel this way, he seemed to genuinely have feelings for you but his actions said otherwise, so you stopped, or you would've just been delusional. Tired of wanting him to treat you like an actual human being and tired of wrecking your brain over being torn because you felt he had feelings for you but he acted like you mean nothing, and treating you like a nobody, you grab your phone and block him, his number, his instagram, anywhere you have him on your phone, you block him, throw your phone on your pillow and continue playing the movie.
02:19 *ring* *ring*
Your eyes flutter open as you realize you fell asleep watching the movie, you're broken out of yours thoughts as you realize what woke you up in the first place, your front door bell ringing.
Who the fuck is at my door at 2 in the damn morning?
You get off your bed, quickly grab your robe and a baseball bat you kept by the shoe rack and peek through the keyhole, it was hard to make out who it was because of the rain, but you recognised the familiar silhouette of a certain Cameron. You sigh and open the door.
"What the fuck Rafe? Look at the time"
"I couldn't reach you anywhere, you wouldn't answer my calls, my texts wouldn't send, what else was I supposed to fucking do? You cut me off everywhere Y/N"
"Just..get inside, you're gonna catch a cold"
"I don't care Y/N"
You take a step aside to let him in , you barely turn around before he grabs your wrists in his hands and pins you to the wall,
"RAFE"
He's so close that you can feel him breathing on you
"Why'd you do it Y/N? Do you really want me out of your life? Is that what you want?"
"It's not like I mean shit to you anyways, Rafe"
"That's not true"
"Like fuck it is, you treat me like absolute shit, you purposely go out of your way to make me feel terrible, you want my attention but you'd rather ask for it by belittling me infront of everyone, by talking down to me or treating me like I'm just someone you use to distract yourself from whatever the fuck you need to be distracted from, sometimes the shit you say isn't even funny, it's straight up childish and immature and rude, I shouldn't even have let you in after the shit you've said and the shit you've done, I deserve better than how you treat me. "
You could barely finish your sentences without feeling the need to choke up.
"Y/N I-"
"You used to make me feel so good, so safe but now I'm scared to even talk to you because I know nothing nice is gonna come up and I'm gonna get hurt again, I know we're supposed to be just casual but I just didn't think you'll treat me like I'm a nobody to you"
Rafe's gaze softened, and his hands went from your wrists to your shoulders.
"I'm sorry, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness because of the things I've said and how I've treated you, but I can't lose you, I don't want to do this without you Y/N, I can't justify why I've said what I've said, what can I do to make it up to you? I'll do anything, I never realized how much it could've affected you, I was being a dick, I'm so, so sorry"
"I know I shouldn't even be talking to you rn, John B would kill me"
Rafe took your hands in his and placed a kiss on the back of both hands. He peppered kisses all over your hands, working his way up to your wrists, your arms, your shoulders, and eventually, your neck, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and nibbled on the sensitive skin right next to your jaw, which he knew makes you go crazy.
You shuddered under his touch and, out of habit, leaned into him, your head resting on his chest, kissing it, you turned up to look at him, your faces barely inches apart, and close the distance. You plant a kiss on his lips, it was soft, gentle, loving. His hands wander from your neck to your back, you guide his hands to your waist, he gives you a gentle nudge and following his cue, you lift yourself and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around him, his focus goes to your neck and you shudder, he takes that opportunity and slips his tongue in, his movements grow more eager as he softly grinds himself against you, grabbing everywhere you'd let him, at this point, you're both breathing each other, he's kissing you like he's gonna lose you tomorrow, like it's the last time he'll ever have you, your tongues move in a rhythm and your bodies are connected.
"Let's go inside" you say and he takes you to your room, he gently lays you down on your bed, not breaking the kiss once, not letting go of you even. once.
"May I?" He asks you as he nudges your top
You get up and help him remove the tshirt you slept in, he immediately went back to kissing your neck, your collarbone, and slowly made his way down to your chest. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, gently sucking on it, you let out a soft sigh as he bit it gently while his other hand gave attention to your other one, toying with it, kneading it then he switched to the other one, doing the same as he did for the previous one.
"Let me make you feel good ma"
He made his way further down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses.
"Tell me if you want me to stop ,okay?"
You just hummed in agreement
"No, I want to hear you say it, tell me if I'm going too far, and I'll stop."
"I don't want you to stop"
He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, and you lifted yourself up, helping him take them off.
"Turn the lights off,Rafe, I don't want you to look at it"
"You're beautiful, every part of you Y/N" he says as he gets up and turns the lights off, finding his way back to you, he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, softly massaging them. He slowly made his way to your core, planting a gentle kiss over your clothed core.
You squirmed in the bed, edging your body closer to his mouth, growing more impatient by the second.
"Easy now, I'm getting there" he said as he took your underwear off, folding it up and keeping it next to your bed, he licked a long stripe eliciting a soft moan from you, he latched himself onto your clit, lightly sucking on it, focusing on how you react to it, once he's satisfied, he pushes his tongue inside you, he speeds up exponentially, he's going down on you like a man starved, like you're the last meal he'll ever have, he doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop, he barely comes up for air, he only has one thing on his mind, making you come. Your hands find their way to his hair, grabbing them and tugging at them.He violently thrusts his tongue in and out of you, practically abusing your clit while you're a moaning mess, he hooks your legs over his arms to grip you and hold you down as you squirm and push yourself onto his face, his nose is lightly bumping against your clit, your moans turn him on and he started grinding against the bed, he suddenly inserts a finger in you which make you arch your back, pumping in and out of you, hitting your g spot as his thumb makes it way to your clit and rubs circles on it, while his other hand grabs your breast and plays with it, the sudden increase in stimulation drive you closer to your edge, your eyes are shut, you can't say anything, you can't think of anything other than how good his mouth feels, how good he's making you feel, you feel the burning sensation, signalling you're not that far
"Rafe I'm gonna-"
He doesn't even let you finish that sentence before he speeds up, you didn't think it was possible for him to go faster, but he was, the room is silent except for the moaning mess he's made of you and the unholy sounds he's making as he eats you out, he can feel how close you are, he hums in satisfaction.
"It's okay, come for me" You can feel the smirk he has on his face as he says it
Right as he finishes his sentence, you came. hard, harder than you've probably ever come. You're a panting mess, he slows down his movements but he doesn't stop, helping you ride out your high, once he's sure, he gets up and grabs a towel, cleaning you up, he kisses your thighs and helps you up on the bed, and lays down next to you. He holds you close and whispers in your ear
"I'm so sorry for ever making you feel like you mean less than to me than you actually do, I won't do it again"
"It's easier said than done, Cameron, don't make me regret giving you another chance"
you turn to face him and bury your face in his chest, slowly drifting away into a peaceful sleep as he plants a kiss on your forehead and holds you close. He'll spend as long as it is needed to make up for how he treated you, taking care of you and cherishing you for as long as you'd have him.
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nancy-drewdles · 1 year
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What if they actually did break the curse in 4x03?
Temperance knew that Ace is Nancy's blind spot and that she will do everything to protect him. I'm sure she was aware that Ace will do the same. She is an excellent fortune teller and all that.
What if Nancy almost dying was a failsafe in case they ever manage to destroy the curse? What if that was supposed to happen?
What if her plan was for them to always live in fear? Not knowing if they managed to break it or not.
"Maybe we think we broke the curse. How will we ever know that she didn't plan another twist? We will always be looking over our shoulder."
Well, how would they you know that they didn't?
Fear is the enemy of love.
What if she was counting on them to always be looking over their shoulder? For them to always be on edge? For that fear and that doubt to destroy their relationship?
Wouldn't this be the cruelest joke she could play on them.
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yandere-kokeshi · 6 months
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We need to know how separate TF-141 would be as house-husbands!!! Please!!!
— Yandere headcanons of TF-141 as house-husbands
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Warnings: Yandere behavior, older! characters, male gender roles, NSFW, slight delusional behaviors.
A/N: Anon, you are SO, so smart. I love you /a.
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Captain “Price” John:
The type of house-husband nobody expected for him to be– not even himself. John had partially agreed to it, and now he’s a stay-at-home dad for your cats. When he wedded you, he never thought of it this way; and now, he had promised to always care for you, did he not?
Price is well over-tired, pretty hairy and massive; beard scratchy and face all squishy; he’s a chubby man. But that doesn’t stop him at all.
John loves waking you up in the mornings. Before even shaking you awake, he loves to admire you. Watching your different breathing patterns, some dribbles of drool, and the obvious bed marks staining your face makes him smirk. But of course, it ends too short when he realizes you need to get up.
John is so, oh gentle, when waking you up. Scarred hands rubbing at your hips as he rubs his beard into your shoulder, prepping kisses and telling you to get a move on. However, if you ignore him, he’s more than happy to leave some permanent marks, yes?
He always makes your breakfast and lunch the night before, chopping the meat, fruits, and vegetables into the correct order so he can easily sleep in with you till you leave. So, when your alarm goes off, he detaches himself from you, getting up with only his red boxers– turning on the oven to preheat the food yet again and leaving them on the table for you to enjoy when you get out of the shower.
And with that, he takes your health seriously, mentally and physically, which means most foods in the house are pretty healthy. All types of fruits, veggies, protein, and fiber nourishment is given with each meal, and he expects you to eat it all. 
When shopping, he takes everything seriously. He hates getting off track, only sticking to what’s on the list, and cashiers who take too long on talking– especially if they openly flirt with him. Can’t you see I'm taken? He snarks out, showing off his wedding ring before fast walking out towards his car with his hands full.
Chores are chores. They need to be done. Dishes are easy, laundry, and vacuuming are a piece of cake. But cleaning the bathroom? Oh, that’s a bit difficult. Especially with the hidden camera he’s put out of your sight, and at times, he gets distracted; watching the many films, seeing you all naked and wet, makes Price feel... a sudden urge. How are you just so gorgeous, hm?
John is the definition of a “Pro Loyalty Card”. For all those stores he visits, he has cards for each and every single one of them, including the convenience store. They always come in handy.
Routines are his specialty; he knows everything about your schedule, to the time you leave for work, to when you call him at your lunch break, come home and collapse in his lap, all the way to sleeping in the bed naked. He’s memorized it all. 
After the long antagonizing and stressful week, John always sits you down for a long bath. He massages your shoulders, using a special lotion to rub on you after the bath. But, that’s not the only gift he's giving. Before gently and lovingly pushing you to the bed, he slowly fucks the stress and irritation of you; teeth makes ensuring you stay loyal to your man.
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Simon “Ghost” Riley
Simon is quick and sleek with shopping, getting and seeking foods that have high nutrition because you only deserve the best. Most foods he picks out are healthy, getting many baskets of fruits to ensure you enjoy your lunches. But when passing by the sugar aisle, he can’t help but choose a few sweets for you. 
A type of house-husband you’d never expect. He’s brooding, shoulders kept tight, wearing a black mask and hoodie as he sulks in the grocery aisles, holding the colored basket. You’d think he’s stealing with a gun hidden in his back pocket. However, when in reality, he’s taking his house duties extremely seriously as he eyes for the cereal aisle.
He wakes up way early, even before you start to stir awake, even before the sun rises and goals himself to get a good workout in. Even though he’s not the same lieutenant as he was years ago– he’s not lazy, and still picks up his pace whilst jogging down the street and doing push-ups in the open garage. 
At times, he wishes you could join him, and it would be fun, would it not? Having you down below, as his chest presses against yours and your flushed face being the main goal for him to continue? Or maybe, him guiding you through pull-ups, and you need his help? Oh, that’s how to make him very desperate for you in the early mornings. 
Speaking of early mornings, when you rise with his gentle shaking, whispers of “good mornin’”, and his rough stubble rubbing your neck, you realize just how lucky you are. Especially with how Riley joins in, when he notices his second favorite human is up and awake. 
Though, if you decide to ignore these two, covering your face and mumbling away, Simon will crawl over you, prep your face with sloppy kisses, and murmur hot and dirty words. His hand instinctively crawling down, snapping the band of your underwear, nails barely scratching at your skin whilst promising to get you all hot and messy, before forcing you out of bed. 
When you leave out of that door, regardless of the morning, he ensures the house is spotless before you come home. He doesn’t listen to any music, only the occasional barks from Riley as he sprays the leather couches, doing the dishes the “old-fashioned way”, and folding laundry like it’s a race. 
Most are scared of him– except for that one lady down the road. Her eyes follow Simon as if he’s a god, but he scoffs at that when she twirls her hair. You’re the real deity, he openly thinks. Of course, he shows off his pretty wedding ring, the one you got him; and somehow, Simon wishes you’d just make out with him in public, show her that he’s off limits and that he’s yours. 
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:
The type of househusband who immediately recognized that you needed to be cared for, and went forth with that promise between the marriage. You work so hard to make money for the both of you. And he’s devoted to doing whatever he can to be helpful too. 
Kyle is a clean freak, which means the house is nearly spotless when you come home. Every scratch at the couch has him grunting and hands vigorously trying to rub it off. Shoes inside the house are immediately put up, and he hates rainy days; looking at you with glaring pupils as you step inside with soaked coverings. But, he loves you. 
The chores in the house are easily done before the afternoon, dishes cleaned with shiny marks and the floors vacuumed. Dusting and sweeping the house with headphones on, face flushed whilst… listening to among things he’d never want you to find out. 
Laundry is always last in line, as he tends to “borrow” a good deal of dirty underwear of yours, smelling them intensely. Don’t worry though, he returns them at some point. 
Kyle is the definition of “wifey material food”. Every breakfast consists of incredible fried eggs, mixed with bacon and fluffy pancakes; lunch and dinner being different every day, which is nice. He usually sticks with foods you’re comfortable with, never going out of your zone, and tries his hardest to make different sizes of hearts out of the food. 
Though, you never seem to notice the secret ingredient, the divine particular part where the two of you are bonded stronger. Such shame, he utters. Sometimes he wishes you’d come home early– catch him desperately adding it within the dish with utter lewd excitement. 
Having you come home is the best time of the day. Waiting by the door, wearing the cactus green apron you got him years ago, with a giant smile and dinner laid out, waiting for you. By the end of dinner, you’re full; both of love, and much suffocation of affection. 
All the other housewives in the area love him. They often invite him for yoga, or work-out sessions. But, he usually uses the excuse that you need him. You do, don't you?
Every Friday, he wears and shows off certain gifts he feels that you’ll love. You work so hard for the both of you, so he should show his appreciation, should he not? Wearing all types of risqué clothing, leaving desperate messages, and having lingerie hidden underneath his black vest, coloring his skin and outlining his scars, stretch marks, and moles. Sooner or later, it leads to a heavy cuddle-sex session that he knows you’ll love. 
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Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:
The type of househusband who uses his pretty eyes and sculpted body, to get his way. Everything from seeing you at your working office and past your lunch break, to getting free food samples, all the way to a book full of coupons and all types of gifts for half the percentage. 
He’s amazing at picking food at the grocery outlet, picking up the correct portions of proper protein, vegetables, and iron. And sometimes, sneaking a few donuts, pops, and tubs of ice cream he knows you love. 
Johnny always wakes you up, the alarm rarely shaking you as your beloved husband knows your schedule by heart. He ensures your breakfast and lunch are ready by 7am, smirking at the added secret ingredients that he only knows. 
He’s more lenient with waking you up. Knowing how you like to sleep, beauty sleep he corrects, Johnny tries to let you snooze in as far as you can, before gently stirring you up as the sun rises in the opened window. 
His arms snake around your waist, cuddling up behind you whilst pulling you into his warm chest, as he nibbles on your ear and tells you to start getting up; breakfast is served on the table with awaited love. Though, if his sweet honey voice doesn’t work at this time, maybe some extremely sloppy oral will help, no? 
Johnny ensures that everybody knows you’re lovingly taken. Those hickeys and bruises on your arms, and neck show just how loveable he is. He boasts about you all the time, to his then-team, cashiers and ladies on the streets. It’s only expected you do the same, yes? 
Housewives and other househusbands either love him, or envy him. He’s pretty– too alluring to just be at home and caring for duties. Most women, and men constantly flaunt at his grown-out mohawk, often slicked back into a small bun and a few scars, especially one on his head, that prominent his face. 
He’s still in shape, working out in the early mornings and doing yoga with the other moms; who he regularly drinks coffee with. They love how sweet and handsome the man is, especially towards his spouse. 
Anyone would be lucky to have him, and many would trade a lifetime for him. But, he’s not going anywhere, not without you or your yummy neck anytime soon. 
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Masterlist || Please support me as a writer by reblogging or commenting <3
© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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watchmegetobsessed · 5 months
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BEHIND BARS
A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!
WORD COUNT: 9k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it. 
Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast. 
What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out. 
He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.
Now it feels more like a nightmare. 
“Another one?” 
The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find. 
“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”
“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”
“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.
The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back. 
You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.
You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online. 
Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless. 
Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying. 
When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom. 
It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination. 
“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you. 
Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway. 
“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.
“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze. 
“Be careful then, Angel.”
“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him. 
He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league. 
Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him. 
Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place. 
Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt. 
He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him. 
“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands. 
“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”
His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost. 
“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink. 
What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest. 
You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure. 
“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”
“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”
Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.
But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you. 
“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same. 
Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away. 
You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.
Please come back tomorrow.
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You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you. 
It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it. 
It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools. 
“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her. 
“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”
It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker. 
The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.
“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh. 
“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”
You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.
“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.
Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.
“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears. 
Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs. 
A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look. 
He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar. 
The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves. 
“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”
Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage. 
Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him. 
“You invited me back.”
“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”
Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.
“I was curious,” you admit at last. 
“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.
“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”
Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath. 
“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?
A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it. 
He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table. 
“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.” 
His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.
“Y/N.”
“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go. 
While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers. 
“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”
All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did. 
“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.
The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him. 
“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”
“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”
The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends. 
Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.
“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”
You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you. 
“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”
“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”
Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking. 
“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”
“You what?”
“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”
“I-I was, but…”
“The round of drinks. I sent it.”
“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.
“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”
You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong. 
“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”
Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.
“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”
“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head. 
“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”
“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”
He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again. 
“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.” 
It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it. 
“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”
“But why me?” you keep pushing.
“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him. 
“What?”
“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”
“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you. 
“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.
I just know you taste good.
The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink. 
“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”
You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut. 
“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work. 
“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”
Boss? 
“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you. 
“Boss? Did I hear that right?”
“Absolutely did,” he chuckles. 
“So you’re…”
“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”
You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.
And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here. 
“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”
“No, I–”
“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”
You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right. 
To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.
“Are you still friends?” you ask him.
“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle. 
“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”
“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”
It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane. 
His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.
“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”
Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth. 
“What about it?”
“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”
You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely. 
“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.
“So soon?”
“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”
That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.
“Are you sick of this place?”
“Why?”
“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting. 
“I can be here by seven.”
“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”
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You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow. 
You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting. 
You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him. 
Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you. 
“Hi, what can I get you?”
You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you. 
“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”
Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him. 
“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.
“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile. 
“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar. 
“Absolutely.”
The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.
Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed. 
“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.
“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”
“What’s that like?”
“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”
Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe. 
This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you. 
“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker. 
You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking. 
“Okay, now take the cap off.”
He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you. 
“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top. 
“And finally, the passion fruit.”
He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride. 
“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”
Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.
“It’s amazing.”
“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes. 
The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips. 
The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him. 
But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.
“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.
“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.
“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.
“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”
Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting. 
At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices. 
“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage. 
“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail. 
“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers. 
It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind. 
They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them. 
Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters. 
There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink. 
Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.
He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him. 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.
“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth. 
There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself. 
But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.
“Harry, where are we going?”
“Up. To my suite.”
“You have a suite here?”
“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.” 
His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open. 
Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you. 
You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites. 
You walk into a spacious living room  with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.
The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV. 
“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view. 
Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.
“Why are we here?”
He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior. 
“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”
You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it. 
Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now. 
“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.
“See what?”
“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”
The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach. 
You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself. 
But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 
“I want to show you. How I see you.”
His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.
His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment. 
You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion. 
One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you. 
Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.
“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.
Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest. 
“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.
“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants. 
When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire. 
You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace. 
When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you. 
Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation. 
“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually. 
“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely. 
“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave. 
Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.
But you feel everything. 
You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm. 
When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile. 
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before. 
“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”
“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.
“That’s a start.”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”
Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes. 
“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.
“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it. 
You both burst out in laughter at the same time.
“Not like that!” he shakes his head.
“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”
“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.
“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”
“Everything. I want to know everything.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
913 notes · View notes
awearywritersworld · 1 year
Text
gratitude
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo wakes up early one morning, suddenly aware that he can't live without you. w/c: .5k tags/warnings: fluff. gn!reader. a/n: happy jjk day!!! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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gojo satoru is something of a stranger to gratitude, but can anyone really blame him? he was born with unmatched strength, unaccustomed to the blood, sweat, and tears many people shed to gain even a fraction of the power he possesses.
he's the son of one of the wealthiest clans in japan, so he's never gone to bed hungry, nor has he ever had to wear a pair of shoes that were past their prime. he's also blessed with good looks, always flaunting the kind of smile that makes people turn their heads.
now, that's not to say he's never felt thankful in his life. quite the contrary. he was thankful when nanami returned to jujutsu tech and when yuuji came back to life even after sukuna ripped out his heart. hell, he was thankful for the kid at the bakery who served him a particularly exquisite lemon loaf last week.
but he's never felt true gratitude. you know, the kind you experience when you're given something you can't possibly live without. the kind that moves you, shakes you to the core.
that is, until he's laying in bed beside you, already awake as the sun begins to kiss the morning sky. his eyes trail over your face in the pale blue light of dawn, taking great pains to commit every little detail to memory.
it's then that he feels it, gratitude that seeps into his bones and fills him with relief, hope, and elation all at once. gratitude that changes him as a person, because how could he exist without you? without the soft curve of your nose, without the fullness of your lips, without those cute little snores that let him know you're still sleeping peacefully?
you're laying on your stomach, your back exposed and the sheet bunched around your waist. he traces each divot of your spine with a careful and loving touch, acutely aware that there isn't a thing in the world that could possibly compare to the feeling of your skin against his own.
"'toru? what're you doing awake?" you ask groggily, pulling him from his thoughts.
"hmph.. can't sleep 'cause you're such a blanket hog."
"yeah? are you sure you're not just staring at me again, all googly eyed and creepy?" you pop one eye open to discern the look on his face.
"i've got no idea what you're talking about," he asserts, pulling you against his chest in an attempt to obscure his guilty grin.
you've already seen it though. "i think you're delusional or something, you should get some more sleep."
you feel his chest shift, a breath of a laugh passing his nose. "yeah, you're probably right."
you hum, satisfied with his answer, then tangle your legs with his and close your eyes. "i love you."
gojo has taken a lot of things for granted in his life, he's smart enough to know that, but those three words? from your lips? he'll be grateful for them until the end of time.
"i love you, too."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
3K notes · View notes
f14fun · 3 months
Text
big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 2
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synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories
smau + prose (5.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ profile | masterlist | prev | next ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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a little over a week later, on march 24...
yourusername:
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 211,009 others
yourusername: thx babe 🧡
view comments
oscarpiastri: np honey 🧡
user1: aight what is this sudden new development 😀
user1: i mean i'm NOT complaining but YOU SIR better take care of our pookie dookie wookie y/n 🧐🫵🏽
oscarpiastri: got it, got it 😁😁🫣
user2: girl you got him blushing and shiii-
user3: omg i saw her today at the melborne gp and she was so nice to me! like i'm not familiar with who she is really (i'm new to the wonderful world of mawmaw y/n!), but i just know she will be the perfect wag <3
user3: like she saw me struggling with my lanyard, wine, and duffle bag, and offered to literally hold all three, i love her so much
user3: and her outfits are literally so cute, oscar, you chose the right one!
liked by oscarpiastri
user4: omg SHE'S REPPING THE ORANGE HEART #teampapaya
user5: y/nscar, my mawmaw and pawpaw 😘😽💋
user6: like i know they are not official official, but these soft launches gotta stoppp, just hard launch already
user7: girl is he good in bed
user7: please please please give deets, ily!
user8: fam you mad weird for that one
user9: please for the love of god respect their privacy
liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername
oscarpiastri: ready for date night 2 night?
yourusername: always ready for u 💗
user10: the BLATANT FLIRTING NAHHH
user11: imagine if this is all one big fat skit i'm actually going to scream cry throwup kms
landonorris: so nice to meet you today, love a girl who finally makes oscar stfu
yourusername: LMAOO 😭😭 it was a please lando
oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄
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I was in fact, not alright.
It had been little over a year since I had been on an actual date (not counting the instances where I went over to a guy's house for some ramen, and all of a sudden that was the date) Used to all these low effort, casual efforts at being romantic, I was suddenly hit with the prospect of an actual man who wanted to treat me with respect.
Oscar Piastri.
The man who I idolized as I grew up, always admiring his grit and courage from afar.
And this hardworking man wanted to take me out on a date. For real.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that churned within me. I smoothed my champagne white colored dress and straightened my Cult Gaia necklace. Oscar had only asked of one thing of me tonight, which was to either wear white or beige.
My heart pounded relentlessly, a drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't just any date; it was a date with Oscar Piastri. The very thought sent my mind spiraling. How did I, of all people, end up here? (answer: being chronically online did)
Every interaction with Oscar had been a mixture of awe and admiration. I remembered the first time I saw him race, the way he navigated the track with unparalleled skill and determination. He wasn't just a driver; he was a force of nature, a symbol of relentless ambition and hard work. And now, here I was, about to go on a date with him.
Even though he got fourth at his home race today, I was extremely proud of him. Both as a fan, and quite possibly, his girlfriend by the end of the night (the delusional girl in me said the last part, clearly).
When he had dm'd me privately after tweeting publicly he would like to take me out, I remember completely blanking. I nearly blacked out when he insisted on calling to go over the nitty gritty details of everything with me.
From flying me out, to booking my hotel and making sure my stay in Melbourne was as comfortable as possible, I was feeling a swirl of new emotions. Sure, life was going fast, but I liked this pace. Especially if Oscar could be beside me whilst life passed us by.
Balancing my studies at the prestigious university I attended and my growing presence as a vlogger had never been easy. My days were a blur of lectures, assignments, and shooting content for YouTube and various brand sponsorships. I had started with simple vlogs, but over time, my content had evolved into elaborate video essays on various topics, from Formula 1 analysis to a break down on the world's current events, both in pop culture and politics.
My followers had grown steadily, and so had the demands on my time.
Yet, despite the chaos, I had always found solace in my passion for vlogging. It was my creative outlet, a way to connect with people who shared my interests. My video essays, in particular, had garnered a lot of attention. They were meticulously researched, edited with care, and infused with my personal touch. The positive feedback I received made all the sleepless nights worth it.
But tonight, I wasn't thinking about the next video essay or the pile of coursework waiting for me. Tonight, I was focused on one thing: Oscar.
I had documented my journey to Melbourne in a vlog, capturing every moment from the airport, to the breathtaking view from my hotel room, to the race in Melbourne as well.
My followers were eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, they would have to wait. This was my time, a rare moment to step out from behind the camera and live in the present.
As I made my way to the lobby to meet Oscar, my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages of encouragement from friends and comments from my followers flooded in, but I silenced them. Tonight was about more than just content; it was about experiencing something real.
Exhaling as the elevator door slowly opened, the incessant ringing of jazz music seemed to warp and slow as I made eye contact with Oscar from across the lobby. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks.
Earlier in the day, we couldn't see each other, as media duties for the both of us consumed our time. So here we were, for the first time, meeting each other in person.
He was much taller in person than I had actually expected.
It was one thing to see him plastered across a big screen and splattered across billboards in New York City, but it was another to see this man in all his glory, in the flesh.
His shoulders seemed to broaden as I approach him, and a million thoughts were swirling in my mind. I just hoped the same million thoughts were swirling in his mind as well.
His fluffy brown hair looked newly tousled with, but not to the point where it looked terribly unruly. He looked human, with that crooked smile, and his eyes folded into little half moons—like parenthesis—he was happy to see me. As I was too.
All eloquence, sense of being, and peace of mind disappeared in an instant. Mouth slightly gapping widely, I was at a loss of words for once in my life.
Oscar Piastri is beautiful.
We simultaneously reached out for a hug, our laughter breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon us as we sized each other up for the first time. The hug was amazing, enveloping me in a warmth that felt almost surreal.
His arms wrapped around me with a gentle firmness, and I felt a sense of comfort and safety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if I had come home, even though we were standing in the middle of a bustling hotel lobby.
The hug lasted a little longer than usual, neither of us wanting to let go. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own, and the scent of his cologne, fresh and slightly woody, filled my senses.
When I finally, reluctantly let go, his hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intimate and unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we both felt.
As his hand finally released its gentle hold, I felt butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. My cheeks warmed, a blush creeping up as I tried to steady my breathing. I glanced up at him and saw that he was blushing a little bit too, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink.
His bashful smile mirrored my own feelings, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, we both knew this was the start of something special.
Oscar cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I, uh, got something for you," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.
He flipped the bag he was holding around, and I could see the words Valentino sprawled across it. I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise.
"Oscar, you didn't," I whispered, my heart racing even faster.
He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got both," he admitted, looking sheepish yet proud. "One in red and one in blue."
I was completely floored. "Oscar, this is… wow," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never expected such a grand gesture, especially not on our first date. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to have him go to such lengths for me was overwhelming.
He shifted slightly, his nervousness palpable. "I just wanted to do something special for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. "You deserve it."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "This means so much to me."
He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made my heart swell. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stepping closer. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."
I looked down at the beautifully crafted bags, my fingers tracing the elegant lettering of Valentino. Each bag represented more than just a luxury item; it was a symbol of his consideration and effort. It was clear that he had put thought into this, wanting to make a good impression and show that he cared.
"I can't believe you did all this," I murmured, still in awe. "It's… beyond anything I could have imagined."
He took a deep breath, his confidence growing slightly as he saw my reaction. "You deserve to be treated well," he said, his voice firm. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that."
The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I repeated, my heart swelling with affection. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," he replied, his hand gently brushing against mine. "Just enjoy the evening."
As we stood there, the world around us seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of us, sharing something special and unforgettable. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly cherished.
"I feel like I'm dreaming," I confessed, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "This is all so surreal."
Oscar's eyes softened as he took my hand in his. "It's real, Y/N. And it's just the beginning."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The thought that this was just the start of something more was both thrilling and terrifying. But as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of reassurance.
"Let's make tonight memorable," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand.
I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Absolutely."
With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he led me out of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as we walked towards his black McLaren that was waiting for us, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Oscar had gone above and beyond to make this night special, and I was determined to cherish every moment.
As we approached the car, Oscar immediately took the initiative to ensure everything was perfect for me. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to sit down, but not before adjusting the seat settings. He carefully moved the seat forward and tilted it slightly to match my height, ensuring I would be comfortable during the ride.
"Is the seat okay?" he asked, looking at me with genuine concern.
I nodded, already feeling the comfort of the perfectly adjusted seat. But he wasn't done yet. He leaned in and adjusted the air conditioning, making sure it wasn't too chilly. "I know it can get a bit cold sometimes," he said with a small smile, "so I set it to a warmer temperature."
I smiled back, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he turned his attention to my belongings. Gently taking the old bag I had brought with me, he began transferring my items into the new red Valentino bag he had gifted me. He was meticulous, making sure that nothing was left behind and that everything was placed neatly in the new bag.
"Here, let me help you with this," he said softly, his hands moving deftly as he organized my things.
Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me. He wasn't just being thoughtful; he was showing me that he cared about every little detail, making sure that I felt special and valued.
Once he had finished, he handed me the new bag, his eyes shining with pride. "There you go," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything's all set."
I took the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "You didn't have to do all this."
He shrugged modestly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he replied simply. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."
And as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and attention to detail. Oscar Piastri was proving to be more than just a racing legend; he was a gentleman, someone who cared deeply and went out of his way to make me feel cherished.
Oscar didn't act like an immature, twenty-three year old boy, like some people made him out to be. Unlike the bummy guys I had known and casually dated before, this was a step up.
He maneuvered the car with ease, backing up with one hand on the steering wheel while his other arm rested casually on the back of my seat. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted and tensed underneath his white collared shirt, the fabric stretching slightly over his broad shoulders. It was impossible not to find it incredibly attractive. My cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across my face. Oscar noticed and turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, no...I mean, maybe a little." I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off, but the warmth in my cheeks only intensified.
He chuckled, a soft, bashful sound, and I noticed a faint blush creeping up his own neck. "I guess we're both a bit flustered tonight," he admitted, glancing back at the road. The air between us felt charged with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.
As we settled into the drive, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable silence. I watched the city lights blur past us, the rhythm of the car soothing my nerves. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Oscar took a deep breath and broke the silence. "You know, there's a lot of pressure in Formula 1," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's not just about the races. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes—training, media obligations, sponsorships. It can be overwhelming sometimes. But having someone like you here tonight, it makes it all feel worth it."
I smiled, touched by his openness. "I can only imagine how tough it must be," I replied. "Balancing my studies and vlogging is already a handful. There are days when it feels like I'm barely keeping up with everything. But tonight...I'm really grateful to be here with you."
He glanced over at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates," he said. "But maybe tonight, we can just focus on ourselves and leave all those distractions behind."
"Agreed," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Tonight is just about us."
We exchanged smiles, a silent agreement to make the most of this evening and cherish the time we had together. The city lights blurred past us as we drove on, the world outside fading into the background as we found solace in each other's company. The pressures of our respective worlds felt miles away, replaced by a shared sense of tranquility and excitement for what the night had in store.
The McLaren navigated smoothly through the city streets, and with each passing moment, I found myself more captivated by Oscar's presence. His occasional sideways glances and the genuine interest he showed in our conversation made me feel seen and appreciated in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was refreshing to connect with someone on such a deep level, especially amidst our busy lives.
"I've always admired your dedication to racing," I said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between us. "It must take an incredible amount of discipline."
Oscar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "It's my passion, but it's also a demanding profession. Every race, every decision matters. It's a constant balancing act, trying to perform at your best while managing everything else."
"I can relate," I admitted with a small laugh. "Trying to balance university assignments, vlogging, and now, this unexpected but wonderful evening—it's a lot to juggle."
He nodded thoughtfully. "You're doing an amazing job," he reassured me. "Not many people can handle all of that with such grace."
The compliment warmed my heart, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thank you, Oscar. And for what it's worth, I think you handle the pressures of Formula 1 admirably."
His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the earnestness in his expression. "I appreciate that," he said softly. "Having you here tonight, it's a reminder of why I do what I do."
A comfortable silence settled between us once more, filled with unspoken understanding and a growing connection. The air inside the car was charged with an undeniable chemistry, a magnetic pull that drew us closer with each passing minute. It was a rare and precious moment, where time seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor each other's company without the weight of responsibilities and expectations.
Oscar glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "if you keep blushing like that, I'm going to think you're a better driver than me."
I laughed, my cheeks still warm. "Oh please, you know I'm terrible with directions. I'd probably get us lost before we even reach the restaurant."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be your GPS for the night. Just don't expect me to be as reliable as my car on the track."
At a stoplight, he turned to look at me, and to my surprise, he brushed a loose strand of my hair away from my face to the back of my head. Holding my chin, he smiled, and a small smirk blossomed across his face.
Imagine my shock horror when I started blushing again. It felt like that one Grey's Anatomy episode where a girl wouldn't stop blushing, and got surgery to treat her incessant blushing.
Yes, I really felt like Kelly Roesch every time I was around Oscar.
"Y/N, do I really make you blush that much?" Oscar smirked and looked forward, as the light had changed back to green. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped off, and I let out a gasp from how fast the car was going.
Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, maybe I am blushing, what about it?" I dared to challenge playfully, immediately regretting my boldness and the sudden surge of moxie.
Oscar turned to look at me, his smile widening. "You're adorable when you blush," he remarked, his tone warm and affectionate.
Embarrassment tinged with delight colored my cheeks even more. "Well, you have that effect on me," I confessed, feeling a rush of courage.
He chuckled softly. "Good to know," he teased gently, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the road.
The playful banter eased the tension between us, infusing the car with a light, flirtatious energy. As we continued driving through the city streets, our conversation flowed effortlessly, alternating between laughter and more serious topics.
Oscar shared anecdotes from his racing career, injecting humor into tales of close calls and victories, while I recounted memorable vlogging experiences and the challenges of managing a demanding schedule.
Each exchange deepened our connection, fostering a sense of mutual understanding and admiration. There was an unspoken chemistry between us, a magnetic pull that grew stronger with every shared laugh and meaningful glance. I
t was as if we had known each other for much longer than just this evening, our bond forged in the shared pursuit of passion and ambition.
By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the initial nervousness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity. Oscar held the car door open for me with a gallant smile, his gestures both chivalrous and endearing.
As we walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that brought us here.
When we arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant, I was once again struck by the thoughtfulness of his choices. The place was elegant yet intimate, with a cozy ambiance that made me feel instantly at ease.
Oscar had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail, and it was impossible not to be touched by his efforts.
As we sat down, I couldn't help but smile at him. "You really went all out, didn't you?" I teased gently.
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only the best for you."
I blushed, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. "Thank you, Oscar. For everything."
"You're worth it," he said simply, his gaze unwavering.
In that moment, I knew that this was more than just a date. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something that had the potential to grow into a deep and meaningful connection.
And as the night unfolded, filled with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of excitement, I realized that I was ready to embrace it wholeheartedly.
As we settled into our seats at the cozy restaurant, the atmosphere around us seemed to hum with a quiet energy. Oscar and I exchanged glances, a knowing smile playing on both our lips, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between us.
"So, Y/N," Oscar began, his voice low and playful, "tell me more about your vlogging. Any juicy behind-the-scenes stories?"
I chuckled, stirring my drink slightly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Endless editing sessions, occasional tech disasters. But it's all worth it when I get to share something meaningful with my followers."
"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, his gaze lingering on mine. "But I bet you enjoy every minute of it."
"Most of the time," I admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at his attentiveness.
As I settled into recounting the tea ceremony mishap, I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, though at the time, it had been far from funny. "So, there I was, kneeling beside this beautifully arranged tea set," I began, gesturing animatedly with my hands. "The camera was perfectly positioned to capture this serene moment. I was about to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea when suddenly, the tripod leg gave way."
Oscar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. "No way," he interjected, clearly intrigued.
"Yes way," I confirmed with a laugh. "And in that split second, everything descended into chaos. The camera toppled over, knocking into the low table where the tea set was displayed. Cups shattered, tea leaves scattered everywhere, and I, in a desperate attempt to catch the camera, managed to knock over a delicate vase of flowers."
Oscar's laughter filled the air, a genuine and infectious sound that made me smile even wider. "You must have been in shock," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement.
"I was," I admitted, recalling the moment vividly. "But somehow, amidst the chaos, I kept rolling. I think I was in such disbelief that I just kept filming, capturing the aftermath of the disaster. Tea leaves floating in the air, water dripping from the overturned vase—it was a scene straight out of a comedy."
"And your viewers got to witness it all?" Oscar asked, still chuckling.
"Oh, they did," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. "And surprisingly, they loved it. I received so many comments about how refreshing it was to see the behind-the-scenes reality, even if it meant watching me fumble through a tea ceremony."
Oscar nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "It just goes to show," he mused, "sometimes the unplanned moments make the best stories."
"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, ready to share tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Well, there was this one time in Australia," he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "During one of my rookie years, I had a near-miss with a kangaroo. It came out of nowhere, right in the middle of the track. I had to swerve so hard I thought I'd end up in the barriers."
I gasped, eyes wide. "A kangaroo? Seriously? Only you would have an experience like that!"
He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Yep, only in Australia, right? But that wasn't the end of it. The kangaroo didn't just stay on the track. It jumped over the barriers and ended up in the audience. People were screaming and trying to get out of its way. It was pure chaos."
"Oh my God," I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Did anyone get hurt?"
"No, thankfully," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling. "Security managed to corral the kangaroo and get it to safety. But it was definitely one of the most chaotic moments I've ever experienced on the track. The race had to be stopped for a few minutes until everything was under control.
The whole time, I was just sitting in my car, watching this kangaroo cause mayhem and thinking, 'Is this really happening?'"
I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image. "I can't believe it. That's insane. Did they ever find out how the kangaroo got there in the first place?"
Oscar shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "No idea. It was one of those freak occurrences. But it definitely made for an unforgettable race. Every time I go back to that track, I half expect to see another kangaroo waiting to jump out."
I giggled, feeling a warm connection building between us. "Well, I hope not. One near-miss with a kangaroo is more than enough for a lifetime."
He nodded in agreement, his smile broadening. "Yeah, definitely. But hey, it makes for a great story to tell on a first date, right?"
I blushed at his words, realizing just how special this evening was becoming. "Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of other dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"
His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, ready to share more tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Oh, I have plenty," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "There was this one time when..."
As he launched into another story, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly we were connecting, each story weaving us closer together in this unexpected evening of laughter and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that felt both exciting and natural.
"You have some pretty wild stories," I said, still marveling at the idea of a kangaroo on the track. "I can't imagine how you keep your cool in situations like that."
He shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "You get used to it, I guess. Racing teaches you to expect the unexpected. But it's not always as dramatic as dodging wildlife. Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference, like dealing with sudden changes in weather or handling a tricky pit stop."
I leaned in, fascinated. "Tell me more about the pit stops. They always seem so intense on TV."
Oscar's eyes lit up as he delved into the intricacies of pit stops, explaining how every second counts and how the coordination between the driver and the crew is crucial. "It's a lot of pressure," he admitted, "but when it goes smoothly, it's one of the most satisfying parts of the race."
I nodded, absorbing every word. "It sounds like such a team effort. I never realized how much went into it."
"Exactly," he said, clearly pleased by my interest. "It's one of the things I love most about racing—the teamwork and the camaraderie. Everyone has to be at their best for the team to succeed."
We continued to share stories, the conversation flowing easily. I told him about my vlogging adventures, from the hilarious mishaps to the rewarding moments when a video resonated with my audience. Oscar listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and laughing at my anecdotes.
As the night grew later, the atmosphere around us became more intimate. We moved closer, our shoulders almost touching. The moonlight glimmered off the water, casting a soft glow on Oscar’s face.
"That sounds amazing," he said, his voice low and warm, his Australian accent adding a melodic lilt that sent shivers down my spine. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deep within me, his low vibrato giving me butterflies.
I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Thanks. It's not always easy, but it's definitely worth it."
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light, almost tentative. "I can tell," he said softly, his accent making each syllable feel like a caress. "Your eyes light up when you talk about it."
My heart skipped a beat as his hand lingered on my cheek. He leaned in, and before I could fully process what was happening, his lips brushed against my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.
"You’re really something, you know that?" he murmured, his lips close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, his accent making the words even more intoxicating.
I felt my cheeks flush, a smile spreading across my face. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The way his accent rolled off his tongue was doing things to me I hadn't anticipated.
Oscar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you all evening." His accent made the confession sound even more alluring.
"Is that so?" I asked, my voice playful yet breathless. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly.
He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy with that smile of yours," he said, his accent making the words feel even more intimate and personal.
I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and nervous excitement. "Well, I guess I'm guilty as charged."
He leaned in closer, his lips now brushing against my ear. "Maybe we should make a habit of this. I like seeing you happy," he whispered, his accent sending delicious shivers down my spine.
My heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "You’re pretty good at making that happen," I admitted, feeling a surge of boldness. The way his voice, with its rich accent, played over my senses made me feel something stirring inside.
Oscar’s grin widened, and he reached for my hand. "Follow me," he said, his voice filled with playful promise. His touch was electric, sending a thrill through me as I placed my hand in his.
"Where are we headed to next?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I was clearly blushing and super happy, unable to hide my excitement.
Oscar’s smile widened. "A yacht," he said simply, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes and 220,018 others
yourusername: finally, date night!
view comments
user1: i'm going to totally pretend that your now "chill" caption truly encapsulates how you are feeling (you were freaking out on priv earlier)
oscarpiastri: priv??! let me follow the account @/yourusername
yourusername: priv... what are you talking about i don't have a priv
oscarpiastri: 🧐🫵🏻
francisca.cgomes: what a beautiful girl 💋💋
yourusername: you're talking! babe you ae so beautiful as well 💋
oscarpiastri: are you flirting with my girl @/francisca.gcomes???
user2: MY GIRL SJIJSJORJDSS
user3: that's so alpha male of you oscar
yourusername: so what if she is 🙄
oscarpiastri: i've had her for less than a day let gooo 😥
francisca.cgomes: idc 🙄🙄
charles_leclerc: children please stop fighting
pierregasly: @/francisca.cgomes ... babe what about me
user4: LMAO KIKA NOT ANSWERING BAHAHA
user5: mawmaw yi pawpaw
liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri
user6: guys i just happened to be at the same resturaunt as them tonight bc of a family dinner and let me tell YOUUU, they were so flirty with each other omg. like i sat at the table adjacent to their left so i got a birds eye view of all of the blushing. like he kept intentionaly touching her hand and stuff it was so cute 😵‍💫🫠🥰
user7: landonorizz you got some competition @/landonorris
user8: yeah lando, i fear oscar may have more rizz than you
landonorris: 🙄👊🏼
user9: call him, oscarizz...?
user10: 💀💀 nahh that didn't hit LMAO
oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 628,100 others
oscarpiastri: i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it
view comments:
yourusername: NO OSCAR THE CAPTION 😥😥😥
yourusername: HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT
yourusername: OSCAR AND I DIDN'T FUCK
oscarpiastri: exactly, a gentleman never does such thing on a first date
yourusername: WHY IS THAT YOUR CAPTION NOOOO
oscarpiastri: people are not misunderstanding 🫷🏻🫸🏻
yourusername: OSCAR THEY ARE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE COMMENTS
yourusername: I DID NOT DO SUCH DEED
user1: i love how y/n is literally freaking tf out and oscar is chill
user2: LMAO i can just see the cartoon silly steam leaking from her ears everytime oscar does anything
user3: god i don't even know if i want to be her or oscar
user4: i choose both.
user5: THEY FUCKED??? 😡😡🤬🤯🤯🤯😰😰😰😰🫨🫨🫨🤐
user6: oscar MY MAN the caption feels a little... sus
user7: had to clean my glasses to reread the caption
user7: because y/n's beauty was genuinely blinding me
user8: aight oscar who wrote that caption 😵😵
user9: ignoring the weird??! caption, they look SOOO CUTE UGH
yourusername: TYSMMMM <3 (pls ignore the weirdass caption yes, yes pls do that)
user10: LMAO
charles_leclerc: ...
oscarpiastri: father, please look away
yourusername: oh!- so NOW your embarassed
charles_leclerc: sending a screenshot of the caption to your mother brb
oscarpiastri: i hope you are reffering to alex
charles_leclerc: no, i definitely mean nicole
oscarpiastri: DELETE DELETE DELETE
logansargeant: bro your cooked
charles_leclerc: "OSCAR JACK PIASTRI" - what your mom said, she said it, not me
charles_leclerc: "HAVE SOME MORE DECORUM YOUNG MAN" - nicole
charles_leclerc: "TREAT A LADY WITH RESPECT"
oscarpiastri: ma'am yes ma'am 🫡🫡🫡
yourusername: god i love your mom @/oscarpiastri
yourusername: ty for doing me a service 🙏🏼🙌🏼 @/charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: no problem, a future leclerc-piastri deserves the best 🫡
charles_leclerc: (you better wife her up)
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oscarpiastri posted on his story
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caption: i finally got my dream girl her dream bags 🫶🏻❤️🧡💙
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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 (part THREE yay or nay?!)
786 notes · View notes
awrkive · 1 year
Text
[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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all rights reserved © AWRKIVE , 2023
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simpleeticklish · 2 months
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Pick On Someone Your Own Size || Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) Tickle Fic
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Summary: Wade is tired of Logan constantly poking fun at Mary Poppins' appearance and decides to teach the man a lesson. Unfortunately for Wade, Logan is more than capable of teaching a few lessons of his own.
Warnings: Canon-typical language and allusions to violence.
Requested by the lovely @just-a-fluffy-knight!
Wade liked to consider himself a patient man (he was, in fact, the farthest thing from it). However, there was only so much injustice one man could witness before he was obligated by the universe to intervene, and Wade was quickly approaching that point with Logan. Why, you may ask? Did Logan drink the last of the beer and forget to buy more? Did he leave the toilet seat up when Vanessa came to visit? Did he beat Wade in a particularly nasty game of poker?
Yes, he had done all of those things, but what was REALLY grinding the mercenary's gears was Logan's insistence on making fun of their newly acquired canine friend.
“It looks like a rat with fucking mange.”
“Did the poor little batard get dropped as a puppy or something?”
“She’s staring at both of us at once, that’s creepy as shit.”
“Seriously, that is the ugliest fucking dog I’ve ever seen.”
One or two, Wade could deal with, but he simply could not stand by and allow his precious little angel to continue being subject to such a brutal assault on her cuteness. No, it was time to make a stand!
“Alright, that’s it!” Wade sat straight up, turning to face the perpetual grump currently lounging a few feet away at the opposite end of the couch. “I’ve had it up to HERE with the bullying, mister! Haven’t you watched those cheesy PSAs they used to air on Disney Channel?”
Logan averted his gaze from the television, his eyebrows raised. “The fuck are you talking about?” He rumbled.
“You know what I’m talking about!” Wade retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at the other man. “You’ve been ragging on our poor, sweet Mary Poppins all week!”
“The dog?” Logan asked, clearly exasperated.
“Yes, the dog! Quite frankly, I’ve had enough of the ableist comments about her cute little mug, Peanut.”
“You honestly think that THING is cute? You’re more delusional than I thought.”
At that moment, Wade made a lunge for Logan. He knew it was stupid, he really did. He knew it was practically a death wish, but damn it, he never claimed to be a smart man, okay? By some work of god or luck, the mercenary had seemingly caught the other off guard, with Logan letting out a loud yelp as he was forcefully pushed back against the sofa cushions.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Get the hell off of me!”
“No can do, bucko. I think it’s time I taught you some manners.” Wade retorted, hands working to fend off Logan’s attempts to push him away. “Would you hold still? Fucking hell, I haven’t even done anything yet!!”
A snort tore from Logan’s throat, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You? Teach ME some manners? That’s fucking rich!” His hips gave a particularly harsh buck, nearly dislodging Wade in the process. The mercenary yelped, torso flinging forwards as his hands instinctively latched onto Logan’s sides for support.
At that precise moment, something downright MAGICAL happened, dear readers. A high-pitched, startled sound erupted from Logan’s lips, accompanied by widened eyes and hitched breathes from both parties.
A giggle.
Logan Howlett, the Wolverine, fucking giggled.
The two stared at each other for a moment, neither moving or uttering a word. Then, a gigantic grin bloomed across Wade’s face, and Logan felt his heart jump into his throat.
“Oho, what do we have here?” Wade crooned, fingers still latched onto Logan’s torso but remaining unmoving. “Doth mine eyes deceive me, or did you just-”
“I didn’t do shit, you’re just hearing shit, ya nutcase.” Logan growled, steeling his features as he held Wade’s gaze with as much confidence he could muster. “Just get the fuck off of me, you fucking prick!”
“Nooo, I definitely heard something!” Wade’s excitement was growing by the second, and Logan didn’t like it one bit. He gave the X-Man’s sides another quick squeeze, and while Logan was prepared enough to hold back any noises this time around, he still gave a sharp flinch at the touch. “Holy fucking shit, Batman! You’re ticklish, aren’t you? Aaaw, isn’t that just precious?” He cooed with delight.
“I swear, if you don’t-” Logan started, his lips slamming shut as Wade’s fingers began to wiggle into his muscular sides, squeezing just above the hips every so often. Shit, he couldn’t let WADE of all people break him with something so fucking stupid! He would never hear the end of it! Logan took a desperate swipe at Wade’s ribcage, claws sliding out in preparation to dig into the merc’s flesh, but Wade was a step ahead of him, immediately taking the opportunity to dig into the newly exposed armpit.
Well, fuck.
“Shihihihihihihit!” Logan cursed loudly, slamming his arm down in an attempt to protect the sensitive spot but only succeeding in trapping the mischievous fingers there.
“I knew it! The big, bad badger is tickwish, isn’t he? Isn’t he?” Wade crowed, talking to the other as if he were talking to a baby. Logan felt his cheeks warm as he tossed his head from side to side, their shade no doubt rivaling the red of Wade’s suit.
“Shuhuhuhut up!” Logan snapped, hating the way a barrage of giggles immediately interrupted his words the moment he opened his mouth. “Lehehehet go, motherfuhuhucker!”
“After all of those cruel, cruel things you said about dear Poppins? Ooh no, I think you’ve earned yourself an EXTENDED session with the tickle monster, tough guy. Besides, do you HEAR yourself right now? You’re way too cute to just STOP!”
“I’m nohohot fuhuhuhuckin’ cuhuhuhuhuhute! I’ll kihihihihill yohohohou!” Logan threatened, chest shaking with titters as a soft wheeze rang through the air. “Cuhuhuhuhuhut it ohohohohout!”
Wade was most certainly NOT going to cut it out. Damn it, there was a certain group of people on their internet whose mouths would WATER at the chance to reduce THE Wolverine to such a giggly state, and by god, Wade was going to do just that (in their honor, of course). His fingers spidered up to Logan’s ribs, beginning to scratch between each bone as he counted loudly. “One ticklish wittle rib, two tickwish wittle ribs…”
Logan’s cheeks turned a few shades redder, his laughter increasing in pitch in a manner the man found downright mortifying. “Shuhuhuhut up, shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup, shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhup! Fuhuhuhuhuck!” His legs kicked frantically against the couch, claws digging into the cushions as a snort tore through his giggling.
Wade couldn’t hold back a cackle of his own. “Oh my god, was that a SNORT? You SNORT? Are you sure you aren’t a pig instead of a badger?” He smirked, giving up on counting in favor of taking his fingers back down Logan’s ribcage towards his stomach. “What’s the matter? All these muscles not helping too much in the ticklish department? Does this make you wanna squeal real good? Come on, Peanut, squeal nice and pretty for me!”
Logan let out another loud wheeze, back arching before crashing back onto the sofa, laughter pouring out of him in waves as Wade began to ruthlessly claw at his stomach. “FUHUHUHUHUCKING STAHAHAHAHAP, YOHOHOHOHOU ASS!” He howled, eyes squeezed shut with mirth as he desperately attempted to suck in his stomach. “DAHAHAHAMN IT, NOOOOHOHOHOHOOO!”
Wade grinned wolfishly, his tickling picking up the pace at Logan’s increased hysterics. “Uh oh, it looks like we’ve hit a sweet spot! Does the wittle badger have a tickwish wittle tummy? Does he?” He crooned. He was SCREWED when Logan inevitably freed himself, he knew that, but Wade was okay with digging his own grave. The chance to make the big grump SHRIEK was just too enticing.
The feeling of a finger wiggling in his navel was what finally did it. Logan let out a downright precious squeal, laughter going wild as he wrenched his hands upwards (now claw free), seizing Wade by the hips and flinging him backwards. The mercenary’s back his the arm of the couch, eyes wide with shock. “Alright, alright! Calm down, buddy! Let’s save the rough stuff for the bedroom, yeah?”
Logan collapsed back against the cushions, panting as his arms instinctively wrapped around his still tingling torso. His eyes narrowed, an effect completely ruined by the lingering laughter at his lips. “Fuhuhuhucking hell! What was that for?” He huffed.
Wade gave a little shrug. “Well, at first it was to make you stop being such a jackass to our beloved canine friend, but then you just had the cutest little giggle and I just couldn’t help myself.” He grinned coyly. “Don’t act like you weren’t having fun! You could have stabbed me at any time, but you didn’t, did you? Because you liiiked it!”
The X-Man felt like his ears and cheeks were on fire, and he wanted nothing more than to shut the prick up, but he just couldn’t bring himself to kick Wade’s ass (perhaps because the mercenary’s words held a bit of truth to them). After a moment, however, Logan returned Wade’s smile, although his had a FAR more intimidating undertone. “You like tickling me so badly? Let’s see how you fucking like it, huh?”
As Logan slowly began to move forward, looking downright MENACING with that gleam in his eye, Wade felt his heart start racing. Instinctively, he raised his hands as he attempted to stand up, only to be immediately tugged back down as Logan took ahold of his wrists. “Now, Logan! W-We can talk about this, right?” He chuckled nervously. In the blink of an eye, Logan had him pressed on his back against the couch, smirking down at him in a manner that was downright villainous. “Gee, if you wanted to be on top so badly, you could have just-”
“You just never know when to shut up.”
Fingers dug into the mercenary’s sides, clawing and wiggling with sheer ruthlessness in their mission to make Wade SHRIEK. In mere seconds, they succeeded.
“Fuhuhuhuhuhuhucking Christ! Hohold on, hold ohohohon! Waaaaahahahahait!” Wade squealed, clumsily fumbling for Logan’s wrists as he immediately burst into a wave of high-pitched giggling.
“Jesus, you couldn’t even last a second? I knew you’d be bad, but this is fucking ridiculous.” Logan chuckled, delighting in the way Wade collapsed with titters at the assault on his sides. “Looks like someone can’t take a taste of his own medicine, can he? And you said I’M the ticklish one…”
Wade shook his head, wishing for the security of his suit as he felt his cheeks turning a bright red. “Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Dohohohohohon’t! Eeeeehehehehahahahaaa!” He forced out, eyes squinty with giddy mirth. “Y-Yohohohouou are SOHOHOHO muhuhuhuch wohohohohorse!”
Logan raised a brow. “Still sassing me? You have no sense of self-preservation, do ya?”
Wade let out a borderline SCREECH as Logan’s hands found their way into his armpits, arms snapping down in a frantic, vain attempt to protect themselves. “OHOHOHOHO SHIT! N-NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! CUHUHUHUT IT OHOHOHOUT!” Wade giggled shrilly. “Y-YOHOHOHOU’LL MAHAHAKE ME LOOK BAHAHAHAD IN FROHOHOHOHONT OF THE REHEHEHEADERS!”
“I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about, but this seems like a good spot. How about we stay here for a bit, yeah?” Wade WAILED as one of Logan’s hands decided to dart down and experimentally squeeze one of his thighs. “Or how about right here? Vanessa mentioned these being SUPER FUCKING TICKLISH at the Christmas party back in December.”
“SHEHEHE DIHIHIHIHID WHAHAHAT?!”
“I’m just fucking with you, it was a lucky guess, and a pretty damn good one going by that reaction. Now, let’s see if I can tickle a fucking apology out of you for your little stunt, shall we?”
“BRIHIHIHIHING IT OHOHOHOHOHON, PIGLET!”
“Oh, you’re playing that card again? You SO deserve this now..”
“Wahahahait, what are you doing? Lohohogan, Logan nohohohohooo! Dohohohon’t you fuhuhuhucking do it! I’ll kill you, motherfucker! LohohoGAHAHAHAAHAHAAAN!”
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srjlvr · 8 months
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꒦꒷ enhypen ! and your infamous ship with them&lt;3
idol-ot7!enhypen x idol-fem!reader .. fluff .. no warnings&lt;3 not proofread!!
read pt.1 here!! — since you all liked it<3
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ε ї з — heeseung
as if his heart eyes for you at the interview weren’t enough, heeseung started talking about you a lot in his lives, which only adds to your fan’s delusions.
he’d go on and talk about his day in his lives when all of a sudden he’d turn on some music and the first song he’d pick would be one of your songs.
“this song is so good, i listen to it almost every day, this artist y/n is really talented i really love her songs” he’d say with a big smile.
and oh, this is definitely not the end, he’d also go on and rant about the first time meeting you and tell them about those times when you bumped into each other, as if he’s telling his best friend about a new crush he has.
“i was walking down the aisle when i accidentally bumped into her, she was in a bit rush so she apologized quickly and ran away, it was so funny i didn’t know what to do” he’d giggle, “after that she saw me again and even got me a snack, that’s cute”
with delusional fans, comes the delusional tweets of fans, and the conspiracies about heeseung having a crush too (which might be true)
“if i wasn’t so sure before, now im more than 100% sure that this boy is having a crush on her, and i’m all in for it!!”
ε ї з — jay
a week after the valentine’s day story blew up, jay went on a live again, just casually talking with his fans that he loves and appreciates so much.
jay was ranting about a cake his mom made him,and explained how cool the design she did looked, to the point where he actually took his phone and scrolled through his gallery to show them a picture.
usually, when idols show their phones on lives or such, they’d turn off their notifications, only this time jay was so into it that he forgot to do it.
at the same time you, being the good old friend you are, responded to a text he sent you a few minutes ago, even before he started the live.
as he was showing his picture on his phone to the fans he also got a notification from you, it was a matter of a few seconds for fans to realize your contact name, and a few seconds for jay to realize he’s doomed.
jay tried to laugh it off but it was too late. now even those who didn’t ship you two and had doubts about it are left speechless.
“i admit i didn’t believe the valentine’s day story and their ship, but now knowing they text each other and probably do every day too? YES!!”
ε ї з — jake
your old meet up with jake was actually filmed for a short vlog, you both work under the same company so it was pretty common to meet up and get it filmed.
a few days after the scandal blew up, a really short vlog of the both of you got released.
fans rushed to watch it and see any clue of jake since it was rumored he was going to be there. the short film got around 100k+ in no time!
fans felt like swooning whenever they watched your interactions, you and jake even spoke in english, considering the fact that you both are foreigners and feel comfortable speaking in english.
jake never looked more shy than when he was literally standing next to you, holding his signed album and just waiting for the right moment to give it to you.
if you’d ask any fan that watched this short vlog, they’d probably tell you they’re 100% sure that something is up with the both of you. the way that he looked at you was something fans never saw before, and the way that you looked at him was as if you finally got to talk with your crush after years of crushing over him.
“i NEVER thought i’d be able to see both of my ults in one frame together!! i bet you a million dollars that they’re dating and fight me if they’re not!! it seemed like they tried to hide it but it looked too overact”
ε ї з — sunghoon
everyone’s favorite ambassadors!! your couple photoshoot got so famous that even people who never heard of the two of you refused to believe you’re not dating.
on your first photoshoot together, you and sunghoon did some funny tiktok challenges that got super famous to the point that people started making edits out of them.
ever since then, each time you’d see each other you’d make a tiktok together, wether it’s a dance challenge or just a very trendy tiktok hence, it wasn’t such a surprised that enhypen’s tiktok account and your tiktok account was filled with tiktoks of the both of you together.
fans brought up new conspiracies of the both of you going on short dates and filming tiktoks together, a whole new chaos was created.
if you thought these tiktoks were enough then think again because not only your tiktok was filled with the both of you, but you also made sure to take many many photos and post it on instagram.
i think out of all ships, yours and sunghoons shippers are being fed so well honestly and they never ever complain about it.
“i never heard about these two until i saw their photoshoots!! you can’t tell me they’re not dating?? and we get too many contents of them two im fully convinced they’re just dropping hints”
ε ї з — sunoo
new years awards came in fast, and all fans were looking forward to collab stages, it was rumored that a lot of 3rd gen and 4th gen are going to perform together, but fans never ever expected you and sunoo to be on one stage together.
him dancing to your performance in one award got so famous that fans even made memes about it, like “me when my favorite song is playing in one store” and more!
the thing is, this stage included only you and him, which made the fans go even more crazy. you and sunoo? on one stage? all alone? fans hoped so bad for that and it happened.
you and sunoo ate the performance, it included a lot of skinship and difficult moves that even fans who tried to cover the collab stage complained about it being really hard.
a stage between a female idol and male idol isn’t something that’s very popular lately (sadly!!!) so it was such a surprise that you and sunoo actually did it.
king and queen of kpop confirmed! your new ship nickname was formed in no time and other fans who watched your stage was mesmerized by how good you two look together.
“IM GOING CRAZY RN!! sunoo and y/n, boyfriend and girlfriend on one stage AND THEY ATE THAT PERFORMANCE!! imagine being on stage with your partner they’re so iconic for that!!”
ε ї з — jungwon
as weeks went by with you and jungwon being MCs, fans got used to see the both of you together every week, it became a routine for them to open their laptop and stream your live, they’ll always find the time to watch the two of you.
when your contract ended, fans were devastated and didn’t want to move on, they even considered to stop watching the show without having the two of you.
even in your last day, you and jungwon looked so sad and unmotivated which made fans even more sad than before. the memories you created will always stay in the show’s history and fans’ hearts.
i guess both of your fans got super lucky because your companies were smart enough to sign the both of you up to a new variety show!!
new content of the both of you together?? in one variety show?? your fans can’t be thankful enough honestly.
fans were going mad watching the both of you being too comfortable around each other, basically doing everything together and staying really close to each other.
“anyone else waiting for them to accidentally expose their relationship on this variety show? come on!! its too obvious they’re dating!!”
ε ї з — riki
ever since that time the both of you met accidentally, the coffee shop became super famous, mostly people who waits to catch the both of you together are going there.
ever since then, fate has its own ways of getting to you, and each time you’re going to buy coffee in local stores, you happen to see him too.
you once uploaded a photo of your coffee to your weverse account and fans noticed a very familiar figure, who just happened to upload a photo of his coffee with you in the background.
and if that wasn’t enough, you were caught by fans together in the same place and this time, even shared a really long conversation. it became a usual thing for the both of you to meet up whenever you’re off to buy coffee, as if you know where to go if you want to meet up.
fans refuse to believe that this is all a coincidence since the evidences are always there, you’ve been seen around each other too many times, even in photos you yourself uploaded.
at one point you just decided to upload a photo together and tease your fans a bit, and it actually worked because the next day you became trending as the coffee couple.
“coffee couple has done it again! do you think their dates must have coffee in it? like what if they go to watch a movie? popcorn and coffee? anyways im fully convinced they’re always planning it and we’re just here to watch”
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••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.
PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @lovelovelovebts (bold means cannot be tagged)
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avocad1s · 1 year
Text
Bring Back What Once Was Mine
Chapter Summary: At last The Creator has returned from Celestia with a new view on how to protect Teyvat. However, the greatest mystery is shrouded behind cracked facades. The fragments will be uncovered at last.
Characters Mentioned: A ton of characters mentioned and included
Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned.
Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader
Part Seven Part Eight (You are here) THE END
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It took only a few weeks for the word to spread all throughout Teyvat that the one they had been worshiping for decades wasn’t the real Creator. Many were distraught and confused by the news and rightfully so, that imposter had been the only “Creator” they’ve known their entire lives. All everyone wanted to do know is meet their true Creator or have the chance to simply rest their gaze upon them.
Unfortunately for the Traveler, as more and more people became aware of her involvement, the more letters and gifts she was given addressed to the Creator. It only took a week until she had to keep the gifts in her Serenitea Pot, since she had too many to carry now. But letters weren’t just sent to her for the Creator, many of her powerful friends like the Kamisato siblings, Ningguang, and the Acting Grand Master would invite her to dinner and ask how the Creator was like so they can prepare for their return.
However Lumine couldn’t lie, she was just as anxious for their return like everyone else. Even though she should just move on to the next nation to complete her quest of meeting the Seven, she finds herself stalling hoping that once the Creator comes back to Teyvat she’d be the first person they’ll greet. Yet maybe that’s just her being delusional, surely the Creator wouldn’t come see an Outlander before anyone else, before the Archons.
Lumine lets out a frustrated sigh as strikes down the final hilichurl in the camp before putting her sword away. Thinking about her brother that she missed dearly was the main thing keeping her mind off the Creator, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Aether would’ve thought of them. During her journeys with Dainsleif, she knew that her brother hated the Archons and he chosen the Abyss over humanity, but would that include the Creator too? She completely understands why he would have reservations about the Archons, but the feeling she got just being near the Creator felt like she could trust them with her life.
“Hey Lumine?”
The Traveler wipes the sweat off her brow noticing that Paimon was back next to her, “what is it? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again.”
Paimon scoffs crossing her arms, “firstly, Paimon is always hungry. Secondly, Paimon was worried about you. You are taking more commissions than usual. Are you alright?”
Paimon was right, even though the Traveler was known for her hardworking and selfless nature, she was definitely overdoing it.
Lumine breathes out feeling fatigue growing through her body, “I feel completely fine.”
Paimon frowns, “will you take a break, please?”
The Traveler wanted to ignore her friend’s worries but she lets out a sigh nodding, “alright. Should we head to the City and order some food?”
The fairy’s eyes light up but she shakes her head, “you know Paimon enjoys your cooking much more!” Lumine knows that Paimon only said that so she wouldn’t be bombarded with letters and gifts for the Creator, but she decides not to say anything.
Lumine and Paimon work together to construct a campfire, once finished, Lumine begins preparing something random for the two of them to share.
“So are you going to ask the Creator about your brother?” Paimon asks breaking the silence that was once between them.
Lumine tears her gaze of the flame looking at Paimon, “they haven’t been on Teyvat in hundreds of years. I doubt they know anything about him.”
“Yeah but they are the Creator. They have a connection to Teyvat that no one else has.”
Lumine shrugs, “well that’s if we ever see them again.”
Paimon tilts her head confusion laced in her voice, “why wouldn’t we see them again. They are our friend after all.”
The Creator is the most important person in this world, and know that everyone knows they’ll be back soon, they may not have any time for Lumine to ask them anything.
“Paimon’s right, we’re friends!”
Lumine snaps her head in the direction of the voice a feeling of hope in her chest.
Just a meter away, the Creator stood giving them a small smile and a wave before approaching their makeshift campsite. They sit in the soft grass next to Lumine crossing their legs comfortably. “Why wouldn’t I make time for you?”
The Traveler stares at them with wide eyes, “you’re back?”
They nod, “sorry for keeping you waiting. Being in Celestia took longer than I expected.”
“Oh right! Paimon forgot about that. How did that go?”
They sigh, “I think Celestia and I came to an understanding, but I’ll tell you about it later. How’s Teyvat been?”
“The Fatui and I managed to spread the word of the imposter. Now everyone knows you’re the real deal.”
The Creator smiles at the Outlander causing the girl to feel a warmth spread throughout her chest.
“I will never forget everything you did for me Lumine, and if you ever need anything at all. Please do not hesitate to ask.”
Paimon nudges the girls shoulder.
“Actually there is one thing I’d like to ask.” Lumine says sheepishly.
“Oh you do? What is it?”
Lumine lets out a sigh before telling the Creator everything that lead up to her getting to this world. The Unknown God, her brother, Khaenri’ah, everything. She tells them about her quest of meeting the Seven to see if any of them was this God that separated her and her brother.
The Creator gives her a sympathetic smile, “I am sorry about all of the things you had went through I had no idea, but regarding your brother, I have met him.”
Paimon and Lumine both look shocked at their confession. “When? What did he say?”
“It was before I confronted the Imposter, I didn’t know he was your brother. He didn’t mention anything, and when I met him I couldn’t see his face clearly to see any resemblance to you.” The Creator explains. “We didn’t talk about much, we were interrupted before he could tell me anything important.”
Lumine looks down disappointedly as the Creator reaches over patting her shoulder, “don’t look so down. You’re still looking for him right? I am here to help you no matter what. Siblings should never be separated.”
Lumine smiles hearing their sweet words, they were actually offering to help them anytime she needed. Even though her other friends throughout Teyvat helped the best they could, she knew she could depend on the Creator to keep her word. She felt that she would see her brother sooner than she expects.
“So what are you going to do now?” Paimon asks.
“I’m going to visit all of the nations. I think my presence has been missed dearly.”
“Missed dearly would be an understatement…” Paimon retorts.
“Where will you go first?”
The Creator brings their finger to their chin pondering for a moment, “I think I’ll go to…”
-
The choice is now yours Your Grace, every nation will be written as if you chose them first. Read one, read them all!
However reading the last one is vital ;)
-
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MONDSTADT
Jean was busier than ever.
As the Acting Grand Master, Jean is constantly dealing with the well-being of Mondstadt and leading the Knights of Favonius. Even though her friends always try to persuade her to take a break, she couldn’t afford to rest now.
It was only a few weeks ago when the Traveler had came to Mondstadt and told them the devastating news about the Creator, or rather who they thought was the Creator. Although everyone took the news hard, especially a certain bard, there was no time to grieve. The real Creator could walk through the gates any second and Jean wants to be prepared for the moment.
A knock on the door breaks her concentration as Lisa enter a frown on her lips. “You’ve been in here all day,” she says softly, “aren’t you going to take a break?”
Jean yawns rubbing her eyes, “I can’t take a break now Lisa.”
The librarian puts her hands on her hips, “yeah, yeah I know. Their Grace could arrive any minute now and you want to be prepared.”
Jean nods as Lisa sighs.
“But do you really want to meet Their Grace like this? You look tired and overworked.”
Jean opens her mouth to rebuttal her friends words when the door shoots open again. It was Amber, her hands were on her knees as she was breathing heavily.
“Their Grace is here.”
-
Once you entered Mondstadt, all eyes were on you. The knights who were patrolling around the city stopped to stare before they began bowing greeting you. Shop owners and other patrons eyes were as big as saucers as they bow to you in respect.
“T-their Grace has returned!”
“And they came to Mondstadt first! This surely means that this is their favorite nation, no?”
Excited murmurs filled the streets but the first to approach you was a man with red hair, it was tied into a low ponytail and the hair that fell in front of his face blew in the wind as his bowed before you.
“Your Grace,” he says his gaze on the ground, “my name is Diluc, welcome to Mondstadt.”
You smile using your hand to gesture for him to stand up straight. He follows your orders quickly, fixing his posture as his gaze meets yours.
“Mondstadt is as beautiful as ever.” You praise.
A smile grows on Dilucs face his cheek turning red as he clears his throat, “thank you for complimenting my homeland. Praise from you is the greatest blessing.”
“Oh there you are Master Diluc!” A voice calls out, “how about I sing in your tavern for a free bottle of Dandelion win-“
A man, or a bard based on how he dressed approached the two of you. The large smile that was once on his face is replaced with a look of shock as he looks at you.
“Y-your Grace…?”
The bard is frozen in place as he continues to stare, even after Diluc began to whisper-yell at him for not bowing to you.
He fixes his face as he smiles warmly at you, “Y-your Grace, Welcome to Mondstadt! My name is Venti! Venti the Bard!”
You raise your brow. “Venti the bard?”
You wouldn’t be the Creator if you couldn’t immediately tell who was an Archon or not, and looking at this supposed bard…
You knew that it was Barbatos and you knew he knew that as well.
“Ehe! Yep that’s me! The traveler told us all about your triumphs in Sumeru City. I believe something that great is worthy of a song, don’t you?”
You laugh at his words, even after all this time the Anemo Archon was as lively as ever.
“Your Grace welcome to Mondstadt, I apologize for our rude welcoming.” A group of four were approaching you, the blonde woman leading.
“I am Jean, the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius.” She looks over at the three standing near her, “This is our head librarian Lisa, our outrider Amber, and our chief alchemist Albedo.”
All of them greet you but you couldn’t help but notice that the one named Albedo never tore his intense gaze off your body.
“I see that you already met Master Diluc and Venti.”
You nod, “yes and you have no reason to apologize for the welcoming. My visit was out of the blue anyway.”
She raises a hand shaking her head, “you are always welcome in Mondstadt Your Grace, please allow me to show you around.” Jean smiles holding out her hand that you gladly take, Albedo and Lisa follow closely behind you two.
Once you had made it to the KoF headquarters, there were more knights waiting to greet you. The calvary captain named Kaeya left an everlasting impression with his sweet words, he was also the only one to kiss the back of your hand when he greeted you. Klee, the youngest in the knights immediately ran up to you hugging you tightly, the other knights try to tell her not to do that since it was rude but you said it was okay.
She asked if you wanted to go fish blasting with her, whatever that was.
Noelle was also so sweet, the maid had offered to do anything you needed even if it sounded like an inconvenience. ‘Nothing is an inconvenience for me, especially when it comes to you.’ She would say. While the sheepish Sucrose couldn’t even meet your gaze without her face turning completely red, she only managed to get the greeting past her lips since Albedo was there to guide her.
Like Keaya, Lisa was a natural flirt, she was constantly complimenting your looks saying how the imposter could never match the true beauty that you possess.
Then there was Rosaria, one of the nuns from the Chruch of Favonius. You had encountered her when you saw Barbara begging her to join in the festivities for your arrival. Once you had approached the two girls the shorter one immediately bows babbling about how happy she is to have you here. Rosaria on the other hand, asks if you are enjoying your time in Mondstadt. She also states that if you’re ever in trouble, she’ll help you. It seems that she shows her devotion to you in a more casual way than others.
Once you had met everyone, Diluc invited you to come to Angels Share, a tavern that he owned within the city. The tavern was what you expected, but what was surprising was seeing Diluc behind the bar his hair pulled into a high ponytail.
“Your Grace,” he smiles, sitting down the glass he was drying before you walked in. You sit down on the barstool across from him.
“Would you like some wine?”
You nod and Diluc turns around looking at the varieties of wine he had before reach of a particular one, he opens it pouring it in a glass.
“Here you are your Grace.”
The tavern door open again.
“Make that three glasses actually!”
Kaeya and Venti approach the bar sitting in the empty barstools next to you. Venti sits on your left, Kaeya on your right.
Diluc sighs, “do you have any mora?”
Venti pouts and Kaeya laughs a bit. “Aww c’mon don’t be like that, the Creator is here and we are celebrating.”
The redhead rolls his eyes, “we are celebrating but only Their Grace is drinking on the house.”
You smile bringing the glass to your lips as they continue their banter.
“Oh? You must be trying to win their favor by allowing them to drink for free? And everyone thought it was going to be me trying to win their attention.”
Diluc’s face grows red at Kaeya’s words, “t-that’s not it! I’m just showing them proper hospitality.”
You chuckle setting down the glass wiping your face a bit, “your wine is absolutely lovely Diluc, I see why everyone loves it.”
His face gets even darker as he nods, “I’m glad you like it your Grace. If you ever want any more, please let me know.” He ignores the two sitting near you as they continue to tease.
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LIYUE
The second you had stepped into Liyue, Xiao was by your side, you weren’t sure how he knew when you’d be arriving but you decided not to question it.
“Your Grace,” the Adepti is kneeling by your feet keeping his gaze on the ground, “you’ve returned.”
“Please stand for me Xiao.”
He immediately raises to his feet meeting your gaze, “are you heading to Liyue Harbor?”
You nod, you never got to step in Liyue Harbor the last time you were in the nation of contracts, being abruptly interrupted by the Fatui had thrown you off your original plan.
“Is it alright if I walk with you?” He asks softly.
It was clear he didn’t want to be a burden on you but you had a feeling that even if you said no he would follow just to make sure nothing bad happened to you while traveling.
“Sure I don’t mind the company.” Xiao’s face brightens at your words as he moves to walk by your side.
The walk with the Yaksha was peaceful, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist but you could tell that he enjoyed being at your side. Once you had gotten to the path leading to the bridge of the harbor, Xiao’s steps faltered.
“Is something wrong?” You turn to face him noticing a conflicted look on his face.
“Thank you for allowing me to walk with you Your Grace but I should return to my duties.”
You furrow you brows, “you’re not coming in with me?”
He lets out a breath closing his eyes as he shakes his head, “I shouldn’t….”
You weren’t sure why he wouldn’t enter the city with you but you didn’t want to force him to do anything he didn’t want. You give him a small smile bidding farewell, before he disappeared into the air he repeats what he said to you last time.
‘If you ever need anything or ever find yourself in trouble, just call out my name.’
-
Zhongli was at the funeral parlor when word hit that you had entered the city, he could feel his heart ache. All he wanted to do was greet you but he had to go about it strategically, if he doesn’t, he could easily reveal himself as the Geo or rather the former Geo Archon.
He gives his eccentric boss some random excuse to leave for a moment and she tells him to hurry back so they can think of new deals in honor of the Creators arrival.
After roaming the city for a moment, you had finally came into view talking to Ganyu. He fixes his tailcoat before walking over his hands laced behind his back.
“Your Grace, I see you have made it to the Harbor.”
Your eyes leave Ganyu to stare up at the man.
“Morax?”
He feels his heart swell, of course his God would recognize him no matter what form he takes.
“Actually it’s Zhongli now.”
Your eyes widen, so Morax had stepped down from his duties as an Archon? You expect something like that from Barbatos but from Morax? Never. You give him a smile, “I see, so Zhongli… it’s nice to see you again.”
Zhongli wanted to keep talking to you, to express just how much he missed you while you were gone. To apologize for worshiping another, he is your oldest devotee if anyone should’ve recognized something was wrong, it should’ve been him.
But all he does is smile as he bows to you, .”your presence has been missed Your Grace.”
Ganyu who was watching you interact with the man, suddenly excuses herself saying that she is needed back in the Jade Chamber to finish the preparations for your arrival. Even though you express that nothing extravagant needs to be done, she explains that Ningguang had been preparing this since the Traveler announced the news of the imposter.
“I wish that I could’ve shown you around the Harbor your Grace but I know that Rex Lap- er Zhongli will do a wonderful job as well.”
Once Ganyu was gone Zhongli offers you his hand, he guides you around the Harbor showing you all of the shops that truly makes Liyue what it is. He also points out all the statues and offerings people had left you, there were many stacks of letters, expensive items, and even books left around all your statues. You made a mental note that you would come back for them all later.
Zhongli also introduced you to Madame Ping who also seemed really happy to see you even offering if you’d like to drink tea with her once you’re free that you happily agreed to. She also mentioned about inviting some old friends, you have a feeling on who that may be.
Speaking of old friends, the other Adepti had made the trip down to the Harbor to meet you. They haven’t been in the Harbor since Osial was released by a Harbinger. Liyue Harbor is where mortals resided and while they will protect it with their life, they rather not spend their time here. Unless you were there then they don’t mind bending their own boundaries a bit.
After spending most of your day with Zhongli, night soon came and Ganyu came back. She escorts you to the Jade Chamber to meet Ningguang and to see what they have planned for you. Zhongli goes back to the funeral parlor expecting to be chewed out by Hu Tao for being gone longer than he expected.
Once in the Jade Chamber Ningguang immediately begins showering you with gifts, many of them jewls and clothing. She even had and array of Liyue specialties made just for you.
Yelan was also at the Jade Chamber, she asked you about your time in Snezhnaya but you decided to keep it vague. Whether that was to keep her in ignorance or because you didn’t want to relive it is unclear.
“Your Grace, would you come outside with me?” Ningguang speaks to you in a soft voice as she leads you to the front of the Chamber. The stars in the sky were shining brightly, you could even see Celestia more clearer from this height.
“It’s very beautiful up here but I actually brought you out here for another reason.”
Soon enough l fireworks began going off in the sky with many different shapes and bright colors. You could see many adults in children in Liyue stare at the sky in amazement which only warmed your heart even more.
“I apologize Your Grace this is all I could do last minute, but I have some more thing planned for you tomorrow.”
You give Ningguang a small grin, “this is already wonderful, I can only imagine what you have planned for tomorrow.”
Ningguang feels her face grow hot as she looks back up at the sky. Ganyu, Keqing, and Yelan could only smile knowing that this surely had a lasting impact on you. If you decide to take permanent residence in one of the nations, they hope that it’s theirs.
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INAZUMA
You had managed to get aboard a ship named the Crux lead by captain Beidou with the help of the Traveler. She had welcomed you enthusiastically exclaiming how she was honored that the Creator wanted to board her ship.
Beidou and her crew weren’t the only ones excited to have you on board. Kazuha, who had introduced himself as a wandering samurai and a poet, also expressed his gratitude that he could meet you face to face.
Beidou cuts him off by ruffling his hair saying how he was just being humble. She tells you how Kazuha had managed to stop a killing blow from the Raiden Shogun and also managed to activate two visions at once. Normally Kazuha would brush off any form of praise with a small smile and a thank you, but seeing your surprised face and hearing you praise his talents made his face grow unbelievably red. Beidou laughs at her friends uncharacteristic behavior patting his shoulder.
The trip was unexpectedly calm, Lumine had told you of the constant storm that had surrounded Inazuma but it seemed to have finally dissipated. Once Beidou had anchored the ship in Ritou, there was only one person waiting on the dock who immediately jumped off one of the crates walking towards the ship.
“Kazuha? Beidou? I wasn’t expecting you two to return so soon!”
Kazuha laughs lightly, “Hello Thoma, we weren’t expecting to be back so early either but we had an unexpected guest.”
Thomas eyes perk up at the mention of the guest, “oh! Is it the Traveler? I’ve been wondering when they would return.”
Beidou chuckles, “no we got someone way more renowned than Lumine.”
Once you are on the dock, Thomas face immediately brightens. “Your Grace! I had no idea you were coming to Inazuma!”
“My arrival is unexpected, you’re the first person to know besides these two.”
His face brightens even more.
“Your Grace if you allow me I would love to escort you to Inazuma City. I know that everyone is dying to see you!”
Thomas personality felt like a breath of fresh air as you agree to let him guide you out of Ritou to Inazuma city. Beidou and Kazuha bid their farewell saying that if you need a ride to any of the other nations they’ll come back to get you, the two board the ship and it sails off.
The guards who were preventing outsiders from entering the City quickly move out of the way once they see your face not bothering to ask for any type of paperwork. If they did, they knew that the Shogun would have them dealt with.
It was about an hour after you arrived to Inazuma City when Ei had finally got the news. Kujou Sara came rushing and the Raiden Shogun, the puppet, asked her to state her business. As soon as she mentioned that you were in the City, Ei immediately left the Plane Of Euthymia.
She feels horrible that she wasn’t the first to greet you once you had entered the city but there’s nothing she can do about it now. All she can do is find you now and ask for forgiveness.
Would you forgive her? She wonders.
She wasn’t there to greet you and there’s no doubt that someone had told you what she had done to her nation. She feels a bitter taste enter in her mouth which she despises. She doesn’t want you to be angry at her, she’ll do anything to earn your forgiveness. Her sister Makoto always told her how amazing and forgiving you were so hopefully that hasn’t changed.
When Ei finally found you, you were at the Komore Teahouse, she burst through the doors trying her best to keep her composure as she follows the sound of noose coming from room one.
And there you are, in all your glory.
Ayaka and Ayato who sat next to you quickly stop talking as they stare at their Archon who stood at the threshold. Thoma, who sat across from the three of you, quickly look down at the table.
You sit down your teacup clearing your throat as you look at her.
“Ei? Is that you?”
She immediately falls onto her knees looking down at the floor, “yes it’s me Your Grace. Please forgive me.”
You glance at the siblings before standing walking towards Ei, her long braid spilled onto the floor as she kneeled before you.
“Forgive you? For what?”
She looks up her watery eyes meeting yours, “for everything…”
You decided it would be best to leave with the Electro Archon, it was already awkward the second she entered the room but you doubt that she’ll leave this teahouse without you.
Ei was quiet as she followed behind you in Inazuma city, everyone you past mouth are agape as they mutter that the Raiden Shogun has showed her face in the city again but this time with the Creator.
You notice how Ei’s face lights up once you near a dango stand, you stop asking the shopkeeper for two and he hands them to you with a large grin on his face saying they’re on the house. (luckily cuz its not like you have mora, where’s Diluc, Ningguang, and Pantalone when you need them?)
At first Ei declines the sweet treat saying that she shouldn’t indulge herself but with a few reassuring words from you, she quickly takes the sweet treat eating it.
Ei enjoyed the time she had spent with you and if you were to stay in Inazuma for good, she would never return into her puppet again. Being here with you felt like the eternity she was striving for, maybe if she begged you to stay here with her, you would consider it?
She decides against it as she watches you leave to see her other islands. She wants to go with you but she knows she must think of a way to properly apologize to you, she had to go talk to her dear friend at the Grand Narukami Shrine.
-
You decided to take some time to yourself on the outskirts of the city resting in the warm sand. Word of your arrival spread quickly and there was no doubt that everyone would be making their way here to see you soon so you just wanted to relax for a bit. You could hear children screaming in the distance as they played, you weren’t sure what they were playing but it sounded like they were having fun.
However your alone time didn’t last long. Many footsteps could be heard approaching from behind you , it sound like three maybe four people? But what really caught your attention was the loud voice that followed.
“Pfft… I might’ve lost this time but next time I’ll definitely win!”
You hear the others agreeing with the statement which causes you to turn around.
It was an Oni, you didn’t even know they were still around anymore.
The Oni notices you staring and his face brightens as he approaches you. “Hello stranger! I’ve never seen you around here before, my name is Arataki "The One and Oni" Itto! Leader of the Arataki Gang!”
He was definitely more lively than anyone else you’ve meet recently and that made you giggle a bit. You stand up from the warm sand a grin one your face, did he even recognize you? He approached you so casually as if you were just another Inazuma citizen.
“The Arataki Gang?” You say in between giggles.
Once Itto confirms that you’re not going to throw any beans at him he gets even closer, “You haven’t heard of the Arataki Gang before? No problem, from today on, we are now acquainted. We are the Arataki Gang of Hanamizaka! Who might you be?”
You introduce yourself by name not mentioning anything about your status, what could you say? You want to see how far this will go.
Talking with Itto was like a breath a fresh air, after everything you’ve been through, this was the exact break you needed. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’ve laughed this much.
What you learned quickly is the Itto was very competitive when he challenged you to a Onikabuto battle, the rules were simple. Find a beetle and the two will battle until one of them flips. Itto warns you that the he’s been training his Onikabuto for days but that doesn’t stop him from helping you find a worthy opponent.
With the help of his gang that battle commences. You watch the two bugs battle quietly while Itto begins chanting for his to win.
After a few moments his beetle is flipped onto his back.
“I win!” You exclaim.
Itto runs his comb through his hair, “pssh… good job new friend! But that was definitely beginners luck! How about another round?”
“There you are Boss, I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” A woman with green hair and a mask begins walking towards the group.
“Shinobu!” Itto says boisterously, “I was just having a Onikabuto Battle with my new friend here!”
Shinobu sighs, “I’m sorry if my boss had caused you any troubl-“
Suddenly she stops talking as she stares at your face, if her mouth wasn’t covered her jaw might’ve hit the floor with his wide her eyes were.
“Erm Shinobu?” Itto snaps his fingers.
“Why didn’t you say you were with the Creator!” The girl practically screams as she gets closer, “Your Grace I am honored to meet you! I’m sorry for any trouble Itto might’ve caused you.”
You grin, “he hasn’t caused any trouble at all! I’ve had so much fun!”
Itto watches the two of you a puzzled look on his face. “Wait wait wait…. What do you mean Creator?”
Shinobu looks over at her Boss, “don’t you remember me telling you that the Creator was in Inazuma?”
He laughs, “Of course I remember! Why wouldn’t I remember something like that?”
She lets out a sigh face palming, “are you telling me that you’ve been hanging with Their Grace this whole time and didn’t recognize them?”
Itto laughs again but it comes out more awkwardly as he looks to the side.
“None of you recognized them?”
The rest of the gang also look off to the side.
You laugh causing everyone to look over at you, “thank you for teaching me this game Itto! I’ve had lots of fun with you today.”
Now knowing who you are, your words makes Itto grow a bit sheepish as he brushes his comb through his hair once more, “Pfft, of course Your Grace I’ll teach you all other games I know and trust me it’s a lot! Haha! Although I should apologize how the Arataki Gang approached you,that was rude of us!” The rest of the gang murmur in agreement.
“Now how ‘bout that round two? Though I should let you know that I won’t be going easy on you! I’m going to win this time!”
You grin, “well bring it on!”
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SUMERU
Nahida was the first to greet you once you had entered Sumeru City, she was surrounded by many scholars and sages from the Akademiya who bowed as they watched you interact with their Archon.
Nahida hold her small hand out to you, “welcome back to Sumeru Your Grace.”
You take the girls hand as she leads you throughout Sumeru City. “I’m glad to back under better circumstances.”
She chuckles, “I’m glad too.”
The city was more decorated than the last time you were here, even though last time you had Dottore knock out all of the citizens so you could confront the imposter. You had a feeling the Nahida might’ve predicted that you were going to show up today, you don’t expect anything less from the God of Wisdom.
As Nahida leads you to the entrance of the Akademiya, you notice two men bickering, or rather one of them getting riled up while the other responds calmly. Once the calmer one notices your presence he turns his attention to you as the other grows more annoyed at his actions.
“Seriously? Now you’re ignoring me?”
The other nudges the man harshly cussing him to stumble a bit but then he quickly takes notice of your presence as well.
“Your Grace, it’s an honor to meet you.”
You soon learn that the calmer one was named Alhaitham, and that the more expressive one was Kaveh. You also learned that the two of them were roommates, although knowing that information was unintentional since Kaveh kept rambling nervously as he tried to apologize for his behavior that you no doubt witnessed.
However the next three you met really solidified that Sumeru had some interesting people that really changed your perspective of how the nation once was. Nahida bad introduced you to the General Mahamatra who was talking to a young girl named Collei and her master Tighnari.
Just like everyone else they were extremely respectful as they introduced themselves to you and welcomed you to their city. Cyno also offered to show you around the desert if you ever desired to go. Collei and Tighnari expressed the same to you about the forest. However after pleasantries were over, Cyno asked you a question that made everyone around you facepalm.
“Your Grace, have you ever played Genius Invokation TCG?”
Tighnari sighs loudly, “are you seriously asking Their Grace about this?”
Collei also sighs as she mutters multiple apologies under her breath.
“I-I’m sorry?” You tilt your head, “Genius Invokation TCG?”
Cyno ignores his friends telling him to be quiet as he begins to explain the premise of the game to you, explaining how people around Teyvat have their own cards within the game and that even you have your own card in the game. (However he doesn’t mention how many cards of you he owns)
“If you ever wish to learn to play, I will teach you. Then we can duel.” His voice was monotonous but his body language gave off just how excited he was about teaching you about this game.
As Nahida leads you away from the trio you could hear Tighnari ask Cyno why he would ask you a question like that. Collei was only happy that he didn’t make any puns in your presence.
Later that night Nahida leaves you alone in a bedroom she had designed specifically for you but you doubt that you were going to get any sleep that night.
A few moments after Nahida left there was a knock at your door, at first you figured it was the God of Wisdom who might’ve forgotten to say something but once you opened the door you were greeted by a new face.
He had purple hair and wore a large hat, if he wasn’t looking directly at you, his hat would’ve obscured his face.
“The Creator of Teyvat.” He drawls out smirking. “I’ve been waiting to speak to you.”
He lets himself into your room as you furrow your brows closing the door turning to face him.
“I want to hate you, you know. I want to hate you because of how much she loved you.” He speaks softly. “All this time I’ve forced myself to hate you but now that I’m right in front of you?” He lets out a laugh, you weren’t even sure if he was talking to you.
“I thought that joining the Fatui would’ve made me hate you but those idiots are just as loyal to you as everyone else.”
So he was previously in the Fatui? That’s odd, no one ever mentioned him.
“What’s your name?” Your words snaps him out of his trance as he looks back at you.
He tells you that he has no name but if you must call him by something you can call him what the Traveler picked.
He calls out your name, your true name. “You’re supposed to be all knowing. What am I supposed to do?”
You let out a breath, as he looks at you expectantly a glimmer hopefulness in his eyes.
The Wanderer holds his breath as he waits for you to respond, after all of the evil deeds he’s done Lumine and Nahida says that he can change but he has no idea where to go about that. All his life his wanted to be of use to someone and every single time he was thrown to the side and betrayed. He wants to know your answer, no he needs it. Ever since he joined the Fatui and learned that the only being he wanted to talk to was a fake, he knew that he would wait. He will wait for you.
“I cannot tell you what to do with your life,” you begin, “following your heart is what everyone does and eventually you find something that feels right.”
He wants to roll his eyes and retort but you quickly interrupt him.
“Even though you do not have a heart like other humans, you left the Fatui and are now repenting for the sins you committed. Doesn’t that feel good?”
He crosses his arms, “what’s that got to do with anything?”
“What I’m trying to say is you should do what feels right. You don’t have a heart but you feel hurt and angry when betrayed so surely you must feel good when you do certain things.”
“And what if I don’t know what that is…?” He says breath barely above a whisper.
“Well you have friends right? They are there to help you, and I am also willing to help you.”
His eyes widen as he turns away from you, “so that’s the way you think? I’m surprised that you can be so optimistic after everything you’ve been through Your Grace.”
For once he didn’t refer to you by your name.
“I’ll let you get some sleep, I will see you tomorrow with Buer.”
He walks past you opening the door, giving you one last glance the door clicks shut behind him. You let out a breath crashing onto your mattress, you doubt that sleep would take you tonight.
The Wanderer on the other hand, was thinking of anyway he could prove himself useful to you then maybe he could stay by your side instead.
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SNEZHNAYA
The Tsaritsa never attended any celebrations that the Harbingers threw when they managed to obtain a Gnosis, but since this celebration was for you, she’d be a fool to not make an appearance.
The Fatui had an abundance of money, and once it was revealed you were on your way to Snezhnaya, they had quickly prepared everything for you. The Zapolyarny Palace was decorated in the finest decorations money could buy. Clothing suited for warm weather was designed with you in mind, and chefs prepared the most exquisite dishes in Snezhnaya for you to enjoy.
As the Harbingers were in the middle of preparations for the grand banquet. Spirits ran high and good will was abundant. All of them felt triumphant. The Creator was due to arrive soon , and they were proud to welcome them back to Snezhnaya. The air was only ever this lively after a successful mission in one of the other nations. They ordered their subordinates to set up the hall so that it was polished and pristine, fit their God.
The Damselette, who was sitting at a decorated table with her head down she called, “It is a shame that the Fair Lady couldn’t join us for such an momentous occasion.”
“La Signora’s zealot ambition caused her downfall. She overestimated her own strength and that got her killed in the end.” Pulcinella states.
“Her methods tarnished her honor, she doesn’t have the right to meet Their Grace.” Capitano chimes in.
Arlecchino was always quick to lose her temper, her voice was filled with venom as she glares at her comrades, “Rosalyne died in a foreign land for our cause, she has more right to meet Their Grace unlike you businessmen.”
Pantalone smiles curtly at her, “if you keep acting like that, Their Grace will be able to witness your true self and not the facade that you put on.”
Arlecchino opens her mouth to snap at the Regrator but is cut off by Childe, who stood nearby. “You all can’t help but fight even on the day the Creator is coming?”
It grows silent as they all return to what they were doing, the youngest Harbinger was right. To argue on the day you would be arriving was ludicrous, even more so to bicker once you arrive. The Tsaritsa herself would kill them for doing that.
It wasn’t much longer until you entered the Zapolyarny palace with the Tsaritsa and Pierro at your side. You were wearing the coat that was gifted to you when you first came here which caused Pantalone to smile smugly.
The Harbingers stare at you for a moment, last time you were here they were all still searching the other nations for any presence of you. When they joined you on the boat to confront the imposter, Childe hogged all your attention but now they had the opportunity to talk to you themselves.
But just like last time, Childe was the first to approach you, eyes brighter than ever. “Your Grace, You’ve arrived! How was the trip?”
You smile at the ginger, it was alway hard to see the Fatui as ruthless beings when Childe approaches and talks to you like this. “It was… calm. Just like last time.”
You cross your arms, even with all of the fireplaces around it was still very cold within the palace.
“Oh, are you cold Your Grace?” A voice says sweetly, “I have other coats suited for the cold if you’d prefer those instead.” The Regrator is the next to approach a small smile on his lips as he adjusts his glasses.
You open your mouth to accept his offer when another voice speaks up.
“If none of his coats are to your liking I would be more than happy to escort you to the City and buy you whatever coat you’d like.” Arlecchino says gracefully, although her glare at the two near you contradicted the sweetness in her voice.
“Or I can give you my coat, Your Grace.” Everyone turns to glare at Dottore for his bold suggestion.
You chuckle awkwardly feeling the tension in the room build up, you knew that no matter what choice you made, the others would be angry. (not at you ofc but at each other)
“Thank you for your generosity, but I think I’d rather just go to my room for a while, if that’s alright.”
“Of course that’s alright Your Grace! Would it be alright if I escort you to your room?” Sandrone pipes up still sitting on her Automaton.
Now all eyes are on her and you sigh softly, all you want is to quell the subtle fighting between them but no matter what you say one of them will jump at the opportunity to spend some alone time with you.
A cold hand touches your shoulder and the Tsaritsa finally speaks up. “I’ll take you to your room your Grace, you must be tired.”
You smile at her as she moves her hand onto your lower back, “We have prepared a banquet for you later tonight, I will have one of the Harbingers bring you some clothes if you wish to change.”
The Harbingers all share glances indicating that it was going to be them to bring you the clothes. The Archon leads you down the hall toward your room.
Once they were alone, Pierro let’s out a sigh, “these childish theatrics must cease. Their Grace will be spending the next few days here and they don’t need to see you all fighting all the time. Have some decorum.
The Harbingers roll their eyes dispersing back to their own room, all of them thinking of ways they could steal your attention tonight.
It’s going to be a long night Your Grace.
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NOWHERE…? (ABYSS)
You told Lumine that you wanted to reconnect with Teyvat before you showed your face in any nation. The girl seemed surprised at first but understood, her gaze lingered on you as you left her campsite. However, you weren’t alone for long. Once you were out of the Travelers sight, you had felt a strong presence behind you. Last time you didn’t notice it, but this time it was as clear as day, as if they were making no effort to conceal it at all.
“Your Grace.” Just as you expected, it was Aether.
You stop walking turning to gaze at him, “how come you always appear when I’m alone?”
Now that you could see his face more clearly, he did look exactly like Lumine, they both had signature golden hair and eyes. While it seemed that both of them had a friendly nature, he was definitely hiding something beneath the surface.
“Because I don’t want no one to ruin the time I have talking to you.” He says nonchalantly.
“Even your sister?”
Aether’s eyes widened at your response but he quickly fixes his expression as he approached you, “so, she told you.”
“I told her I’d help her find you but that’s not all I know. I’ve heard lots of things about the Abyss, none of them good.”
“Your Grace anything anyone has told you is complete slander, the only goal I have in mind is rebuilding Khaenri’ah back to it’s former glory!”
“So the Abyss doesn’t hate humanity?”
He lets out a defeated sigh, confirming the truth behind your question without even saying anything. Aether reaches out grasping your hand with both of his gloved ones, “I would never do anything to disgrace your world… I promise.”
You had to give him the benefit of the doubt, it’s not like he lied to you up till this point, so why would he lie now? “What did you want to talk about?”
“The first step was defeating the counterfeit that held the throne, but this world still hasn’t been healed completely. Corruption still lurks in every corner.”
A large purple portal opens behind the Prince and a faceless being walks out getting down on one knee bringing a clawed hand to his chest.
“Your Grace…. Your Majesty…” it’s voice croaks.
“Come to the Abyss, Your Grace.” He pleads, “no interruptions this time. Come with me and I will show you everything…”
He stares expectantly at your face as you look at the creature and portal behind him. So this was the Abyss, Yelan had told you all about the danger it possessed and now it was right in front of you. A group that hates humanity, even Aether couldn’t deny that fact. The impropriety vexed you, how could a place exist that devalued the life you had created. You cared for this world immensely, and built it for humanity, but for some reason it felt as if the Abyss was calling out to you.
The void of the portal looks endless. Your eyes focus to catch a glimpse of something more, darker and obscure. The weight of the Princes hands were heavier now... more adamant. Your search was cut short when he gripped your hands, pulling you out of the trance. His gaze never wavered as you opened your pursed lips to respond to his lingering question.
“I’ll go with you.”
He looks satisfied with your answer as he pulls you forward leading you towards the portal.
There was no turning back now, once you walk through this with, you will be within the Abyss. You couldn’t imagine what would be waiting for you once you stepped through, all you had was the word of an outlier who guaranteed your safety.
Aether who seemed to notice your hesitancy laces his fingers with yours giving you a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t let go.”
You let out a breath closing your eyes tightly as the two of you walk through the portal.
-
-
-
It wasn’t painful. Not that you expected it to be.
You open your eyes and the Prince is staring at you.
“We have arrived, Your Grace.”
The Abyss lurked in the darkest part of Teyvat so it was no surprise that once you took in your surroundings you noticed you were at some unknown place in the Chasm. It wasn’t just the two of you either, there were many creatures just like the one who was bowing to the two of you before. Some of them looked more human-like while others truly resembled monsters. None of them dared to speak though, you could only wonder what the Prince had threatened said to them if you chose to come with him.
“Your Grace I’m so happy you’ve decided to come with me.” Aether breathes out still holding your hand, not like he had any intention of letting go. “Your comfort means everything to me, and I know it looks unsettling right now but I can assure that your comfort has been taken into account.”
He leads you down a path so that the two of you were alone once more.
It was in a secluded spot that was much darker than the area you appeared in, the only thing giving light was the multiple torches stuck into the wall.
“Your Grace, what I’m about to tell you is going to be hard to hear…”
You let out a breath, would it be as hard to hear when you found out Celestia had betrayed you? The look on his face you could tell that he didn’t want to place this burden on you but it had to be done.
“Are you aware of what happened to Khaenri’ah?” He asks.
During your time in Celestia, you learned everything, all catastrophic events that happened on Teyvat was their doing. The Archon War and the destruction of Khaenri’ah were just the tip of the iceberg.
You nod, “Celestia told me it was their doing.”
“But did they tell you how?”
You shake your head, “how they did it? I don’t understand.”
“Celestia might’ve had a hand in getting rid of the nation, but it wasn’t the one who did it.”
You tilt your head curiously at the blonde, “who did it then?”
He sighs holding your hand a bit tighter to ease you into the bomb he was about to drop on you.
“You weren’t here and Celestia wasn’t the only one who missed you. So the Archons and Celestia concocted a plan to bring you back, and since Khaenri’ah was more quiet about their worship outsiders believed they weren’t devoted to you.”
You felt your heart sink as a bitter taste enters your mouth, “are you saying that the Archons had a hand in this as well?”
Aether continues, “the people of Khaenri’ah were deemed sinners, especially pure blooded ones. People believed it was their sins that made you not want to return, so under Celestia, the Archons attack Khaenri’ah destroying almost everything and killing everyone.”
You felt sick, you didn’t want to hear this, this ache in your chest was unbearable. Were you betrayed again? Something you poured your whole heart into stabbed you in the back for their own selfish desires? This was too much to bear.
You pull your hand out of his stumbling away to sit on a nearby rock, Aether followed kneeling next to you placing a hand on your back.
“I know this is hard for you,” he rubs your back frowning, “should I continue?”
You nod not trusting your voice to answer him, a lump in your throat was forming and it felt that if you were to try and speak, you would burst into tears.
“The remaining survivors of the attack turned into monsters… the monsters you see roaming around Teyvat are what remains of the nation. However for the pure blooded Khaenrians, they were cursed with immortality. Now they roam Teyvat forever…”
You bring your hands up running them through the roots of your hair, Aether had to be lying, there is no way something that terrible would happen without your knowledge. How could you be so ignorant to the suffering of your own people?
Aether keeps rubbing your back, “the plan didn’t work, you never returned so Celestia went for more drastic measures and made an Imposter to trick the Archons into thinking it worked, but at the same time, it was their last ditch effort to get you to return.”
You finally manage to speak, the words came out soft and raspy but still clear enough for him to understand.
“How do you know all this?”
The Prince says nothing, maybe he was ignoring you or maybe he was too concerned about your comfort to respond.
Khaenri’ah wasn’t just forced to watch their home burn by the hands of the Archons and Celestia but they were forced to stay and watch as their home became lost to history. You didn’t want to believe it, the monsters were once people and others were cursed with immortality it felt like something out of a fantasy novel.
But… those eyes…
You couldn’t help but recall your time in Snezhnaya. Pierro… his eyes. You knew they seemed familiar but it didn’t click to you then.
Now it was painfully clear.
He was from Khaenri’ah and he was one of the cursed ones. Why didn’t he tell you? Was it because you were focused on the Imposter? Did he not want to burden you with more problems?
You could remember the way his eyes had lingered on the flower you had. He must’ve recognized it.
You reach into your pocket pulling the flower out, it didn’t look as beautiful as it did when Aether first gave it to you, it was starting to wilt.
“You kept it.” You hear the Prince murmur next to you.
You turn to face him and he immediately pulls his hand off you. “Your Grace I know there is a way we can bring Khaenri’ah back. I’ve even seen these monsters gain back their consciousness, the only missing piece is you.”
Suddenly you bring your hand up to his cheek causing him to stiffen for a moment before leaning into your touch his face turning pink.
Your touch was better than he could ever describe, it was warm and comforting he hadn’t felt this warm since his days in the forgotten nation or maybe even when he still traveled with his sister. He wanted to keep this feeling forever and never let it go.
“Aether…” you breathe out. “It feels as if you’re the only one I can trust.”
He smiles, hearing you say his name was exhilarating.
“You can always trust me Your Grace. I will never deceive you.”
The hand that you had on his cheek is now trapped by his own, he didn’t want you to pull away. Not yet.
“I will help you, Khaenri’ah will be restored and Celestia will pay for it’s sins.”
His smile turns into a full blown grin, “Your Grace I am honored that I am able to work with you.”
-
-
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Note: I am so sorry for the looonnnngggg wait for this part but I am super happy how the ending came out. Now I will focus on the asks in my inbox so if you were on of the lovely anons that left a request, trust me, I didn’t forget about you! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this I luv you!
Taglist: @esthelily @the-dumber-scaramouche @grimreapersscythe @seawater-aurelia-writing @probablynoposts @genshin-impacts-me @itsredactedlove @chidouna @thedevioussmirk @hoo-hoo @chaoticfivesworld @akemiixx01 @lunarapple @nowords-onlybreathing @fangirlinindia @veyu002 @blackcoffex @kaveh-is-pretty @ariasdream @averycuriousperson @bloopthebat @chuuya-brainrot @crazydreamcat @sparklyphantom @multistanbee @bluebelony @mokakoto @mega-trash-cringe CLOSED
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bungalowbear · 2 months
Text
Wanna Bet?
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Pairing: college!Miya Atsumu x reader
Summary: Atsumu makes a bet with his teammate that he can make you over and turn you into the star of the summer festival. Cue the beach volleyball montage and the girl with glasses getting contacts!
Word Count: 8.3k
A/N: This is my entry for @bloompompom’s rom-com collab. The film I chose was She’s All That. This is my first time writing for Atsumu, so please be gentle with me. Thank you Bloomy for hosting! I had a blast writing this!
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On a spring afternoon, the university gym’s doors swing open and Atsumu leads the small group of his teammates down the steps. Their bodies are yearning for replenishment, so they start in the direction of the north gate to their usual post-practice dining spot. 
Although still weeks away, conversation about summer and upcoming festivals starts up. The one that’s mentioned first in Tanabata, happening on campus in July. Oriver and Adriah talk about going as a group, while Kiyoomi mumbles that he’d rather not go at all.
“I think I’m gonna pass, too,”Atsumu says. Each of his teammates send him confused looks. “What?”
“Doesn’t your girlfriend like doing that kinda stuff?” Oriver asks.
“Oh, yeah. Didn’t Ami win Miss Tanabata last year?” Adriah adds.
“Yeah.” Atsumu hums noncommittally. “I think so.”
Kiyoomi peers at Atsumu beneath the short curtain of dark bangs, his voice slightly muffled by the face mask covering the bottom half of his face. “And she’s fine with you not going?”
“W-well,” Atsumu chuckles, a nervous hand coming up to rub at the back of his head, “Ami and I are kinda, sorta…not together anymore.”
There’s a collective sound of understanding hums.
“Huh?!” The setter’s expression shift instantly. Brow furrowed and mouth set in a deep frown. “What’s that mean? Why don’t you guys sound more surprised?”
“Given your track record, we expected a breakup to happen. Just not so soon,” Shion says, shrugging. “She’s the captain of the cheer team, so we thought it’d last at least until the end of the season.”
Kiyoomi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that whole star athlete and head cheerleader thing is so typical.” 
Atsumu pouts, annoyed that they’re right. His relationship with his ex is the longest he’s had while being in college, and he’s sure it only lasted so long because of the mutual status boost. But he didn’t anticipate it ending so abruptly. When they came back from spring break Ami told him it wasn’t working out anymore. That she met some ski instructor at the lodge she and her parents went to in Hokkaido. 
We had an instant connection, Ami had told him with a deep, breathy sigh. She looked like one of those anime girls with hearts in her eyes after meeting a cute boy. Delusional is what she is, Atsumu thought.
“Whatever, there are thousands of girls at this school. Any one of them could put on some makeup, wear a pretty outfit, and become Miss Tanabata.” Atsumu spreads his arms out, confidence oozing out of his every pore. “With the right boyfriend of course.”
Oriver and Adriah make gagging noises. Kiyoomi stares flatly, unimpressed. But Shion is the only one with a twinkle in his eye.
“Any girl, Tsumu?” the libero goads.
“Any girl,” the setter confirms.
“Willing to bet on that?”
Atsumu’s head tilts, his eyes half-lidded in friendly challenge, to stare down his teammate. “What are the terms?”
Shion grins.
“I pick a girl for you to makeover,” he says. “If she doesn’t win Miss Tanabata at the festival then you have to streak at our graduation ceremony.”
“And when I win,” Atsumu says, “you have to call me Atsumu-sama every time you see me until we graduate.”
“Deal.”
The two shake hands, making the bet official. The team continues walking and Shion starts planning his pick while Atsumu listens without much care. That is, until you walk by. Arms full of art supplies, large glasses frames sliding down your nose, paint stains on your clothes, hair pulled away from your face with a bandana. Your expression is set in impassive stone as you stride across the walkway.
Shion smiles. “Her.”
“No,” Atsumu jumps in front of him, “Anyone but her.”
“Too bad. She’s my pick.”
Atsumu whispers your name, looking over his shoulder to make sure you don’t hear him. You’re the girl that works at the convenience store with Hinata. “Her? But she’s so…” He wraps his arms around his middle, an unsettling feeling making him shiver. “Unapproachable.”
But Shion doesn’t budge. Instead he smirks. “Time’s ticking, Tsumu.”
Atsumu straightens, taking a deep breath, and mumbles, “Fine.”
The team collectively turns their heads when Hinata and Bokuto race toward them from the direction of the gym, having stayed back for a brief meeting with the coach. Once they catch up, Hinata asks what they were talking about. Shion opens his mouth, about to explain, but Atsumu elbows him and subtly shakes his head, intent on keeping Hinata out of this loop.
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You’re on the night shift at the convenience store. Flipping through a newspaper, you clip out headlines of major conflicts around the world. You’re going to use them for a paper mache project for one of your art classes.
The bell above the sliding glass doors chimes. 
“Welcome in,” you greet the new customer without looking up.
There’s no greeting in return, but that’s fine with you since the words are mostly out of habit anyway. The customer’s faint footsteps roam the aisles as you continue cutting strips of paper. After a few minutes they approach the register. You put the scissors down and look up. You recognize the customer who towers over you, even though you sit on a high stool, from the other side of the counter as Miya Atsumu. 
You’re only familiar with him because of how much Hinata talks about his teammates. And the names that comes up most frequently are Bokuto Kotaro and Miya Atsumu. The former an outside hitter, and the latter the setter for the school’s volleyball team.
“Will this be all for you?” You grab the protein bar and sports drink to scan. The blonde comes to the convenience store fairly often. Coincidentally, only when Hinata’s on shift. And usually you don’t have to interact with Atsumu at all, but right now your orange haired coworker is currently on his break.
Atsumu nods, and you tell him his total. He digs through the pockets of his sweats and places the assorted coins in the small tray in front of the register. You input the amount into the register and the drawer opens. Grabbing the correct change, you place it in the tray. 
“Thank you for coming,” you recite the words offered to every customer on their way out and pick up the newspaper and scissors again. “Have a good night.”
“Actually—”
Your eyes cut sharply to him and his mouth snaps shut. Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, but he recovers with a grin that slowly smoothes his lips into a soft line.
“Actually, there is something else.” His hands are inside the pockets of his jacket as he leans forward against the edge of the counter. You don’t miss the subtle invasion of your personal space. “I wanted to ask if you’re free tomorrow night?”
Your brow furrows, leaning back slightly in your seat. “Tomorrow night?”
He nods. “Are you doing anything?”
“Did Hinata put you up to this?”
“No.” The edge of his lip twitches. “He doesn’t—”
“Then is this some sort of new social outreach program?”
“What? No, I wanted to talk to you about…” His voice trails off, eyes glancing down at the newspaper strips, then snap back up to you. “Art.”
“Art?” You raise a skeptical brow.
“Yes.”
“You don’t take art.”
“How do you know?” he asks.
“I’ve never seen you in any of my classes. Or in the art building.”
“I’m taking one of those, uh,” his eyes move to the side as he struggles for whatever words he’s trying to spew out, “by-myself-classes.”
“Independent study,” you correct dryly.
“Right.” Atsumu’s smile is back in full force as he repeats, “Independent study.”
His gaze doesn’t waver. In fact, his expression grows to show off a row of pearly white teeth.
“I don’t think so,” you say.
“Huh?” The setter tilts his head. His expression is painted with confusion, as if the opportunity to spend alone time with him has never been rejected. “Why not?”
You’re saved from having to answer when Hinata comes in through the front doors. He’s back from his break which means you’re heading out to yours.
“Atsumu!” The shorter boy comes to stand beside his teammate at the counter. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
“Hey, Shoyo,” Atsumu greets him. “Just came by for a snack.”
“I’m going on my break now.” You try to leave while they’re distracted. But of course, Miya Atsumu has to open his big fat mouth.
“So, about tomorrow night,” he starts. “What time should we meet up?”
You freeze at the end of the counter. Your supplies are tucked against your chest as you stand with your back to the two athletes. Maybe you can just keep walking and pretend you didn’t hear him. You’re a little anti-social so it wouldn’t be all that out of character for you.
“Oh?” Hinata’s voice chimes. “Is he the one who’s taking my ticket?”
“Ticket?” Atsumu asks. You turn your head to catch the setter’s brows rise in intrigue. “Do tell, Shoyo.”
“Since we have tomorrow off from practice I was going to go with her to see this real artsy movie that they’re showing for one night only, but something came up and I can’t go anymore.” Hinata looks up at his teammate with relief and gratitude. “So, thank you for going with her.”
Atsumu turns his smug grin in your direction. “Not a problem, Shoyo.”
“This is great,” Hinata says. A bright smile lights up his expression. “My work friend and my teammate getting to know each other.”
You sigh, knowing you’d never want to be the one to dim Hinata’s excitement. It’d be like blowing out the candles on someone else’s birthday cake. So, when you make your way around the counter and pass by the pair, you grumble, “The theater on the east side of campus. Seven o’clock.”
You walk toward the front, and right as you pass through the sliding doors, Atsumu calls after you with an eagerness too suspicious to be real, “See you tomorrow!”
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Atsumu arrives at the theater before you do, reveling in the shocked expression that briefly crosses your face when you spot him by the entrance. You quickly school your features and walk up to him.
Although this technically isn’t a date, Atsumu is still slightly appalled at the apparent lack of effort in your outfit. He’s wearing a henley and his best khaki pants that Kiyoomi steamed for him, and you’re in a pair of loose fitting jeans and a t-shirt that is two sizes to big for you. Ami always dressed up whether they were going out to dinner or just to the nearest Family Mart.
He watches you fish the tickets out of your boxy crossbody. At least you’re familiar with the concept of accessorizing. That’ll make his job a little easier.
You hand the usher your tickets to tear then head over to the snack bar. Atsumu insists on paying. Popcorn, no butter, to share. A bottled water for him and Cherry Coke for you. He’ll steal one or two of the candies you picked out, but he doesn’t tell you that.
Once you’ve found your seats, Atsumu asks about the movie. You tell him it’s a surrealist film from France. His face must betray his confusion because you explain the concept to him until the lights dim and the trailers start.
He can’t really follow what’s happening. Nothing seems to make sense. And when it does, it doesn’t seem to fit within the context of the whole movie. He decides to turn his attention to the popcorn. His eyes keep looking down, waiting for your hand to reach over so that he can accidentally grab some too. Except when it happens you don’t really pay any attention to it. You say a quick sorry, keeping your eyes on the screen.
Atsumu frowns.
No big deal. His next tactic is a classic and sure to execute. He starts by slowly extending his arm into the air as if he’s stretching, even throwing in a soft grunt, then when he lowers it he subtly begins to curl his arm around your shoulder. He’s done it with plenty other girls and each time it worked like a charm. Atsumu is sure he’s nailed it again. That is, until he’s two inches from his target as his hand hovers above your opposite shoulder. That’s when your eyes leave the screen. All it takes is a sharp glance out of the corner of your eye to make him abort. He plays it off and quickly raises his other arm to add to the illusion of stretching. Defeated, both his arms drop heavily onto his lap. 
Atsumu doesn’t try again.
When the movie finishes and the lights come back on you throw your trash and walk out of the theater. You both briefly go your separate ways to use the restroom. After, you meet in the lobby then exit the building together. You walk down the street until you reach the bus stop.
Turning to face him, you ask, “So what did you think?”
“It was, uh,” he starts. “There was a lot of…sexual imagery. So it seemed like a romance between the main pair, but then there were some parts that were really random. Like when the woman hurt her finger. Didn’t they realize the bandage kept reappearing and disappearing? I’m sure continuity was a thing in the 30s.”
You smile, amused by his observation. 
“Remember, surrealism is meant to be an expression of the unconscious mind. So even though we watched the same thing, we both could have different interpretations. Even from what the director’s intentions were, if any.”
“Right.” Atsumu hums, thoughtful. “So what did you think?” 
The bus approaches the curb then. You both board and pay your fare before finding seats in the back. He lets you slide into the seat by the window and he takes the aisle. You speak low to respect others on the bus as you share your analysis, and he’s awed by how you answer. Atsumu knew you were smart from how Hinata spoke about you, but hearing it for himself is something else. 
When you’re done he stares at you, analyzing your face.
“What?” you ask.
“Do you ever think about wearing contacts?”
“No, not really.” You slip your glasses off, blinking a few times as you look over his shoulder, then put them back on. “The idea of touching my eyeballs is so bleh. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Atsumu carefully adjusts your glasses so they sit correctly on your face. “Just think your eyes are really beautiful.”
Atsumu dons his most charming grin. He’s got you in his clutches. A few compliments here, natural physical contact there, and he’s got this in the—
“Oh, please.”
His stomach plummets at your scowl.
“I knew it.” Then you grumble to yourself, “I should have trusted my instincts.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My eyes are beautiful?”
Your voice rises with incredulity, earning you a few glances from the other passengers. Atsumu shifts in his seat. He says your name.
“Is this what you meant when you said you wanted to get to know me? Was this some sort of prank?”
Atsumu stops breathing. For a good three seconds his brain stops working, frightened by how close you are to the actual truth.
The bus stops and you rise from your seat. You push past Atsumu’s legs and escape down the aisle and out the back door. Atsumu follows after you, calling your name as you get farther down the street. He easily catches up to you, but even as he trails on your heels you ignore him for an entire block. Until finally, Atsumu grabs your arm and swings around to step in front of you.
“I only agreed to this because Hinata was really excited about it.” You shrug your arm out of his hold. “Is this how you treat your teammate’s friends? By coming on to them and then going back to your little squad and having a big laugh about how girls fall for your dumb pickup lines?”
“That’s not what I—”
“Yeah, right.” You cross your arms, defensive, as you glare daggers at him. “Like you didn’t try to put your arm around me? And don’t think I didn’t notice how you waited until I was reaching for popcorn just so you could too.”
Atsumu’s cheeks burn, caught in the act. 
When he doesn’t come up with a response fast enough, you scoff and walk past him, leaving him feeling like he really has his work cut out for him.
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Despite your last encounter ending on an extremely sour note, Atsumu is back at the convenience store two days later. He doesn’t peruse the aisles like he did last time. No, he comes straight to the register. You frown when he smiles easily at you.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well hello to you, too,” he says.
“If it wasn’t already clear, I have no interest in speaking to you if you’re not going to purchase something.”
Atsumu eyes the small bins on the counter filled with trinkets and individually wrapped sweets. He grabs two candies and sets them on the empty counter space between you. The urge to swipe the cocky smirk off his face is great, but instead you ring him up.
“You’re off in an hour, yeah?” he asks as he hands you a coin.
“How do you know—”
“It’s such a nice day out today. We should go to the beach.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” You hand him back his change. “Stalker.”
“That’s a shame. Guess I’ll just have to sit outside. On the curb. With my backpack.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at said backpack. “Asking every person who walks by if they’d like to go to the beach with me. I mean, I wouldn’t want any of the food I packed to go to waste.”
“If you do that I’ll call the police.”
Atsumu pouts. “Just ‘cause I want someone to experience the joy of the beach?”
“For loitering.”
“Oh, c’mon. You’d really call the police?” 
You fix him with a flat stare. He clears his throat.
“Look, you’re important to Hinata.” He puffs his chest out, pointing a thumb in between his very toned pectorals. “And as his senpai, I’m obviously a huge influence in his life.”
You roll your eyes. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that we should at least be friendly with each other. Don’t ya think? For Hinata’s sake?”
“We can do that without going to the beach.”
“I know, but it’s more fun this way.”
You’re still not convinced.
“Please?” He says your name. “One more chance. If I totally blow it again then I’ll stick to just small talk when I come through here.”
“Fine,” you relent. Atsumu throws up a victorious fist. “But this is the last chance, got it?”
“Got it,” he repeats.
An hour later and it’s the end of your shift. Since Atsumu already has his backpack full of everything you’ll both need, you walk directly to the train station. When you tell him you don’t have a swimsuit he says there’ll be plenty of shops selling some and that he’ll buy you one when you get there. So you board the train and head to the beach.
When you arrive, the first thing you do is enter one of the shops to buy your swimsuit. You quickly pick one out and, as promised, Atsumu pays for it before you go into one of the changing rooms. When you reemerge, he has his back to you. But when he turns his brows shoot up nearly to his hairline. 
“I don’t really wear stuff like this,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your stomach. Your head is turned away. Your cheeks are warm from embarrassment. You usually like to wear lose fitting, comfortable clothes since you’re always on the move. And it’s just easier to wear things that are okay getting paint or glue or clay all over them.
“Sorry.” His expression returns to pleasantly normal. “You look nice. That’s all.”
You both leave the shop and head down to the sand. You walk along the shore side by side. The silence isn’t awkward, but you’d rather something besides the sounds of your feet trekking through the sand fill the emptiness. You wrack your brain for something to say, but it’s Atsumu who’s the first to speak.
“Is this your first time at the beach?”
“No,” you say. “I came once for a project. It was a study on the ocean and how pollution—”
“Do you ever, like, do anything for fun?” Atsumu interrupts. 
Your brows narrow. “I have fun.”
“Oh, yeah? When?” he challenges. When you open your mouth to respond he adds, “And going to see those smart people movies doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“You should be going out when you’re having fun. With other people, with friends. You have those, don’t you?”
When you stay silent, he looks over at you. Your eyes are averted, watching the water recede before the next wave.
“I have friends,” you say in a soft voice.
“Other than Hinata?”
“Fine.” You huff. “I only have one friend. Happy now that you’ve found out how much of a loser I am?”
“I don’t think you’re a loser. If you were a loser, do you think the star setter of the school’s volleyball team would be at the beach with you?” 
He plays up his declaration with his back straight and hands on his hips, his face turned toward the ocean so the breeze blows through his hair. You should find it annoying, pretentious even, but instead you’re amused. A giggle passes through your lips. You try to hide it behind your hand but he’s already noticed and is laughing along with you.
“Hey,” he steps in front of you. He holds out his hand. You look down at it in confusion. “Friends?”
You’re tempted to take it. While you’ve been happy all this time being in your own bubble and occasionally letting Hinata in, you can admit to yourself that something is missing. And just maybe, Atsumu is the one who can help you figure out what. But you still can’t help but be wary of him.
“We’ll see how the day goes first.”
You walk past him, taking hold of his elbow as you do.
You both walk a bit more until you reach a cove. There aren’t as many people on this part of the beach so it’s the perfect place to set yourselves up for the day. Atsumu takes off his backpack and fishes a couple towels from inside and hands them to you. As you’re laying them out, you hear someone call his name. 
You look up to see Hinata at the top of the steps that lead to the street. A taller man with white frosted tips is on his left and another with a wide brimmed hat and a face mask on his right. Hinata waves both hands in your direction and you wave back in confusion.
“I thought you said it was just us two.”
“I didn’t invite them.” Atsumu turns to you, raising his hands in front of him. “I swear.”
“Relax, Miya.” You chuckle. “It’s fine. Hinata talks about you all so much I figured I’d eventually have to meet the rest of the team.”
“Right.”
The rest of the volleyball team files in behind the three at the stairs. They all race down the stairs to join you in the cove. Hinata makes a beeline for you, the strap of a long bag over his shoulders and a volleyball under each arm. 
“What are you all doing here? Did Atsumu tell you we were coming to the beach?” you ask your friend.
“We haven’t had a team outing in a while, and when Shion,” he pauses to point to the one who Atsumu pulls away to talk to privately, “suggested the beach Meian, our captain, said it was a good idea.”
“Oh, okay.”
The rest of his teammates are curious about you and so they crowd around you for introductions. Bokuto and Meian carry a large ice chest. Adriah, Oriver, and a couple of the other guys have bags full of food, towels, and sunscreen. Sakusa is setting up his large umbrella and parking himself beneath its shade. Shion comes over when he’s done talking to Atsumu.
They all seem to know you even just a little. Bokuto is the one to tell you that Hinata talks about you all the time, which makes your friend’s face turn bright red.
The bag Hinata carries turns out to be holding a volleyball net. After it’s set up the teams are created. Atsumu ropes you onto his team and shows you how to position your hands to pass.  He then stands beside you and shows you the proper form. You copy his stance, bent knees and joined arms outstretched. Hinata helps you practice by throwing you a few loose balls. Atsumu praises you for how quickly you catch on.
Meian calls for the game to start and everyone gathers on their respective sides of the net. Sakusa keeps score from under the umbrella. You’re a bit overwhelmed with how competitive the others are, so you make sure to stick close enough to Atsumu in case you need help. Which is often. You frown when he tells you that they’re toning it down for your sake. If this is what toned down looks like for them, you’re interested to see what they’re like in full action.
After a few games, everyone settles on towels to eat the sandwiches and fruit that was packed. Atsumu unpacks his backpack to show you what he packed for both of you. There’s sliced watermelon, macaroni salad, and egg sandwiches. You thank him before grabbing a half sandwich from one of the bento boxes.
You chew on a piece of watermelon as you watch Atsumu talk with his teammates. His expression is bright as he jokes with them. He will occasionally get poked fun at and that’s when his expression shifts to incredulity, but you even find that sort of endearing.
You turn to Hinata. He’s watching you with thoughtful eyes. You ask if he’s okay. He shakes his head and smiles brightly at you. 
“Yup!”
At the end of the day you all ride back together on the train. When you can’t fight your sleepiness, your head ends up resting on Atsumu’s shoulder. The last thought you have is that you feel like you had more fun than you were expecting.
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You don’t know how this happened.
You’ve been staring at the bulletin board for ten minutes now. At the sheet of sakura colored paper that has a list of names typed onto it in black letters, yours at the bottom. Atsumu’s ex-girlfriend Ami is at the top. You have no recollection of entering the Miss Tanabata contest. Sure, you enjoy looking at and making pretty things, but you have no intentions of being one. At least not one held up to the standards of a beauty pageant. 
Someone is messing with you. That’s the conclusion you draw when you finally tear your attention away from the board and head toward the glade. You join Atsumu for lunch you quietly take your seat next to him on the bench. You pull your lunch out from your bag and notice his leg anxiously bouncing up and down. 
“Atsumu?” He perks up at you saying his name. “What’s wrong?”
“Are we not going to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“About your nomination for Miss Tanabata?”
“Why would we?” You pop the lid off your plastic bento box. “It’s not like I’m actually going through with it.”
Atsumu’s eyes widen. He frantically turns his body to face you. “W-why not?”
“It’s obviously someone’s dumb idea of a joke,” you say.
“But your name’s already on there. It’d be rude to back out now.”
He has a point. Even if you didn’t enter yourself, the people who organize the festival are probably already accounting for how many contestants there are. You know first hand what it’s like to prepare for big projects. You don’t want to make any trouble for them.
“I suppose…”
Atsumu leans forward, face inches from yours. You’ve noticed he doesn’t fully adhere to the etiquette of personal space. “You’ll do it?”
“Yes,” you concede. You place a hand on his shoulder to regain the distance between you. “But I don’t really know anything about beauty pageants.”
“That’s fine. I’ll take care of everything,” he assures you. “And I know just where to start.”
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“Your eyesight is really bad, you know?”
“I do.” You laugh, watching Atsumu unbox your new contact lenses. You’re both in the small bathroom of your studio apartment. “I’m well aware of my prescription.”
“I had to special order these. Express delivery, too.”
“Well,” you shrug, “you were adamant.”
Atsumu chuckles and gestures for you to take off your glasses. You do, and set them on the counter beside the sink. Turning to the mirror, you stand side-by-side with Atsumu while he gets everything ready. Your eyes wander to the mirror. You can’t see yourself, not really. Your face is smudged of all recognition, as if you were a sketch and someone took their thumb and rubbed at the pencil lines that contour your features.
“Everything’s ready,” Atsumu declares. He nudges your elbow to get your attention. “You nervous?”
“A little,” you admit.
“Don’t be.” He offers you a warm smile. “I’ve been wearing them since high school and really the biggest problem you’ll have is remembering to take them off before you got to sleep.”
You hum. “If you say so.”
You wash your hands and dry them off. You take one of the lenses from their package and Atsumu hands you the bottle of solution. You rinse it then tip your head back and carefully place the lens onto your eye. You flinch when you make contact. The feeling is uncomfortable at first but you blink a couple times to let yourself adjust. You do the same with the other lens.
Once they’re both in place you drop your gaze to the mirror again. You raise your brows slightly at your reflection. Atsumu was right. The glasses did hide a lot of your face. You feel exposed, like there’s too much of your surroundings you’re seeing without your glasses to frame your view. 
But you’re also intrigued by your bare face. You always thought you were average looking, and maybe you still are, but it’s like your seeing a whole new person. The shape of your cheekbones is slightly off. Your eyes have more space between them now. But somehow it all works.
Atsumu clears his throat, then asks, “What do you think?”
“It’s…different.”
“Good different?”
You turn your head. He’s already looking at you, expression of an eager puppy waiting to be told he’s done a good job. That he’s a good boy. The corners of your mouth tilt upward into a shy smile.
“Yeah,” you say.
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The two of you are hanging out in one of the studios in the art building. Well, you’re working on your class project and Atsumu is hanging out. He lounges across the worn sofa at the edge of the room, too long legs dangling off the end.
He blew off his teammates to hang out with you. Again. Lately he finds himself wanting to spend all his time with you, which confuses him because he’s never felt this way with past girlfriends. But you’re not actually his girlfriend. Sure, he spends nearly all his time outside of classes and volleyball with you. But at best you’re a friend. And at worst…you two still wouldn’t even be talking to each other outside of the convenience store if it wasn’t for the bet.
What bothers Atsumu the most is lately there’s something warm and unfamiliar stirring in his chest when his eyes are on you. Everything inside of him is telling him to keep you close, to make sure you’re a friend that he’ll always have. He can’t explain the feeling other than he needs to know you for the rest of his life.
The thought makes him freeze.
You look at him from the corner of your eye and smirk, catching him staring at you. 
“You didn’t bring anything to work on. Again,” you tease.
Atsumu shakes his head, clearing it of his sudden revelation, and rises from the sofa. 
“I’m just observing today,” he, thankfully, says with a smooth voice.
“You’re always observing.”
“That’s ‘cause I like watching you.” He walks across the room and stands behind you, close enough that if he took a deep breath his chest would connect to your back. He remembers his previous remark and adds, “Doing art, that is.”
You lift your head from your project, turning your body slightly so that you can look over your shoulder at him. Your eyes flicker down to his lips for a split second.
“You do?” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he says softly.
Electricity. Magnetism. It’s pulling you both closer together. Atsumu leans his head down, slowly, inching at a snails pace toward your face that tips upward to meet him halfway. His chest stirs again when your lips are about to touch. His heart is pounding with the fact that this will be the first time you both share a kiss. 
Your eyes fall closed. You want this. He wants this. 
So why does he pull away? 
When the kiss doesn’t happen, your eyes reopen and your expression immediately falls. Atsumu wants to kick himself. He wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t understand what this feeling is inside of him. He made a bet. You’re just a bet. 
Right?
He’s made this all more complicated than it should be. 
You clear your throat, turning your attention back to your work. He watches you stare at your hands for a few seconds before you start up again. He lingers for a few minutes before settling back down on the sofa.
Awkward silence lingers between you for the rest of the night. Neither of you dare to address it even when he walks you back home.
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The izakaya is buzzing with excited chatter. The volleyball team is celebrating a big win with an even bigger dinner. Seriously, you’ve never seen a group of people eat so much food. 
Atsumu is on your right, but neither of you have said more than a few sentences to each other. Thankfully, Hinata is on your other side so he’s made sure to make you feel included as much as he can. It also helps that the statistician, the only other girl in the group, is seated right across from you. She’s sweet, if not a bit skittish, and you’ve made plans to meet up at a cafe later on in the week.
When everyone has had their fill, the tab is paid and everyone files out the door and onto the sidewalk. 
Your apartment is only a few blocks from here so you told Atsumu that you’d be fine walking by yourself. When you told him that you thought it was the right thing to do, but now you’re not so sure. He seems like he wants his space, but you can’t help but wonder and worry if the almost kiss at the studio is what’s making him so weird with you now. You don’t like this distance between you. It doesn’t feel right after getting to know each other better. You want to clear the air. 
Thankfully, you catch him before you all go your separate ways. You won’t ask him to walk you home, though you really want to. You want to spend a little more time with him. Instead, you settle for reassurance.
“Atsumu.” You cling to the back of his shirt. Enough to catch his attention, yet weak enough that he can escape if he wants to. Your voice is small, uncertain when you ask, “We’re good. Right?”
“Yeah,” he says without looking back. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?” 
“I just wanted to make sure. After what happened in the art studio…I just—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he cuts you off. “Nothing happened.”
Finally, Atsumu turns his head to look back at you. But it’s not his usual smile that he fixes you with. It doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Right.” You release his shirt. “Nothing happened.”
“I…” Atsumu’s lips part. His chest expands in a silent intake of breath. He looks like he’s ready to say something. Instead, he deflates. Averts his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch. ‘Kay?”
You nod once, then Atsumu jogs off to catch up with Sakusa without looking back.
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The festival is in a few days and all participants are required to help decorate the quad. You’re helping hang a banner in between streamers when there’s a commotion behind you. At first you don’t pay attention but then you hear a familiar voice. 
You peek over your shoulder and see Atsumu with his hands flying over Hinata’s face, trying to cover his mouth, but Hinata dodges every attempt as his voice carries across the quad.
“A bet?!” Hinata shouts. His incredulous tone is accompanied by a tight expression. You’ve never seen him look so angry before.
“Who told you?” Atsumu asks.
“It doesn’t matter who told me. You didn’t tell me.”
Things didn’t get better between you and Atsumu after the izakaya. You’d hoped you could get past whatever weird tension was forming between you, but Atsumu wasn’t giving you any clues as to why that wasn’t possible. Hinata has known him longer so maybe he’s what Atsumu needs to get out of whatever funk he’s in. Although, this looks like too heated of a talk between them to be any sort of constructive. 
You hand off your edge of the banner to the girl next to you and walk over to the pair. However, the closer you get, the more your stomach sinks.
“You and Shion bet you could turn any girl into Miss Tanabata,” Hinata accuses, words seething. “And you chose her. She’s my friend, Atsumu. Why would you pretend to get along with her for something as dumb as a bet?”
“Shoyo, please.” Atsumu’s eyes are wide and frantic, like a cornered animal. “Let me—”
“Am I a bet?” you interrupt loudly.
Atsumu’s eyes dart to you. He still has that look of an animal, but now more like a deer caught in the headlights, when he says your name. Nearly half a minute goes by and your patience wears thin when he doesn’t say anything more. 
“Am I fucking bet?” you repeat through gritted teeth.
Atsumu has the decency to maintain eye contact when he confesses. His voice is soft, thick with guilt.
“Yes.”
One word is all it takes to shatter the illusion. You look around the room and the heavy weight of everyone’s eyes on you brings you back to reality. You don’t fit in here. You’re only here because Atsumu made it happen.
Your eyes return to Atsumu. You see the struggle in his eyes, torn between being silent and still or speaking up and coming to meet you.
When he makes his choice and the gym remains painfully quiet, you turn away and flee the quad.
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You’re in the art studio working on your project when Hinata pokes his head in. He calls your name and you look over your shoulder at him. When you don’t tell him to get lost he takes that as his cue to enter.
He shuffles over to your workstation and drops the bag of takeout on the corner. He begins taking out the containers, and with a single whiff you can tell it’s from your favorite restaurant. 
You sigh. Hinata has always been a great friend to you, his cheerful and genuine personality sinking its teeth into you the first time you met. Which is why you feel awful even asking your question. But you just need to hear the words come out of his mouth.
“Did you know?”
“No,” he answers. There’s not a trace of offense heard in his voice.  “I wouldn’t have nominated you if I did.”
“You nominated me?”
Hinata shrugs, cheeks dusted with pink. His fingers trace the edge of the food container lid.
“I was really excited to see you and Atsumu getting along at the beach,” he confesses. “You were my first friend outside of volleyball that I made when I first came here. So, I was happy that you were coming out of your shell and talking to someone who wasn’t me or a classmate for a project.”
“I guess I am a bit of a hermit,” you say.
“I talked to the guys.” At the mention of his teammates you immediately frown. “They didn’t mean to hurt you. They were really just trying to knock Atsumu down a few pegs, but didn’t think about the aftermath of it all. They all really like you, and Shion especially wants to apologize for hurting your feelings.”
You’ve had a few days to process everything, but that sting of deception still lingers. The handful of times you were around his teammates you never once felt that they were bad people or would want to purposefully hurt you in any way. That’s probably the reason why you feel as sad and disappointed as you do. You really thought you’d found people you could open up to, but all you did was get hurt in the end.
“I’ll think about it,” you say.
Hinata hums, a simple acknowledgement of your choice. Silence lingers for a minute before he blurts out his next sentence.
“I think you should still do the pageant.”
Your brow furrows. “What?”
“Part of it is the popularity vote, but they also judge you on other stuff, too. Like public speaking and hidden talents. Or something like that. I think you could really win.”
“I don’t know, Hinata.”
“C’mon.” He extends the vowel in the way a younger brother might beseech his older sister. “It’ll be tons of fun. And you can’t let your outfit go to waste.”
“Maybe you’re right. I do still have a hair and makeup appointment at the salon.” 
You frown, remembering Atsumu’s excitement when he told you. Was he so dead set on winning that he put in this much effort?
“So…” Hinata leans forward, his expressive eyes and orange hair filling up your view inch by inch.
You eye the food beside his elbow. A smirk pulls at the corner of your mouth as you reach for it.
“Let’s eat first, then I’ll give you my answer.”
Hinata is quick to open up the rest of the containers of food. You chuckle as he begins to shovel food into his mouth. But you’re content to take your time with yours.
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Atsumu watches the pageant from the crowd and can’t help think how stunning you are. He’s glad you kept the appointment at the salon, and that the outfit you picked out together fits you to perfection. You look beautiful in a new kind of way. However, seeing you this way also makes him appreciate the you underneath all of the fluff. He’s been missing that version of you for a while now.
He cheers the loudest for you during the talent portion where you demonstrate how to paint a cat with your eyes closed. When you step off the stage he stares at you until you find his gaze. He chances a small wave. The big smile you wear lessens just a fraction, but his heart thunders when you send him a nod in reply.
When Ami is announced the winner he sees the brief flash of disappointment across your eyes. Though you keep a pleasant expression until the ceremony is over. That’s when Atsumu pushes through the crowd to find you behind the stage. But one last obstacle stands in his way of getting to you.
Hinata.
The squirt has his knees bent and arms outstretched like a bird, barring Atsumu from going any further. People glance their way as they pass by. Atsumu chuckles nervously, but Hinata keeps his determined gaze locked onto the setter.
“C’mon, Shoyo. I just wanna talk to her.”
“Uh-uh.” Hinata shakes his head. “Not until she says she wants to talk to you.”
Atsumu huffs, about to argue further when your voice sounds from behind Hinata.
“It’s okay,” you say, placing a hand on Hinata’s shoulder. “I want to talk to him.”
Hinata straightens up, smiling warmly at you. But when he turns to leave he pointedly glares at Atsumu and lets him know, “I’ll be nearby.”
You come to stand next to Atsumu and watch Hinata walk over to a food stall, excitedly drooling over the selection. 
“He’s been like that at practice too,” Atsumu tells you.
“You know, that actually makes me feel a little better.”
“I deserve that.”
“You do.”
Atsumu says your name. You both turn to face each other, the first time you’re seeing each other so closely in the last three days. You’re looking at him with an unreadable expression and his heart won’t stop pounding.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says. “I was a different person when I made that bet. I went from girl to girl because I just saw them as a way to have fun or let off some steam. Volleyball has always been the most important thing to me, and I didn’t feel like I had any room in my heart for something serious to share that space with. Until you. You slowly crept your way inside and now I can’t get you out. I don’t want to. I want you to stay. That is…if you want to.”
“I was doing just fine on my own before you plopped yourself right into my life,” you start. “I was content to live the rest of college with Hinata as my only friend. But now you’ve made me realize how scary it is to open up to someone, and how much it hurts when they let you down.”
“I’m—”
You raise a hand to stop him. Atsumu holds his breath. He doesn’t think he can handle what you’re about to say. You’re going to let him down easy. Cast him aside in the most humane way possible despite what he’s done to you. He was dumb, ignorant, and so full of himself when he made that bet. But how can he even face another day without you knowing how much he regrets it? How can he prove to you that he’s changed? That he isn’t the same as before? He’ll grovel if he has to. Hell, he’ll even put on a collar and let you—
“But you’ve also shown me how much more exciting life can be when there’s more people to share it with. And that’s something worth taking a chance on.”
Your voice breaks through his thoughts and Atsumu’s brain comes to a screeching halt. He blinks once. Twice. A third time for good measure to make sure he’s processing your words correctly.
“Yeah?” he asks, his hand tentatively brushing against yours.
“Yeah,” you say.
You slip your fingers in the spaces between Atsumu’s. Your soft skin is warm against his, and he feels like he’s closer to being complete.
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Epilogue
After four long years your graduation has finally arrived. You’ve worked so hard to get to this point and are ready to move on to the next chapter of your life. 
The ceremony is nearing its end and you crane your neck to where Atsumu is supposed to be sitting with his teammates who’re also graduating. You both decided to sit with your respective friends and then find each other after the ceremony. But now you’ve lost sight of him. How could you, though? He’s supposed to stay seated along with everyone else.
Suddenly, you hear a commotion. You turn and see a familiar shade of bottle blonde hair running down the middle aisle. It’s Atsumu. Only he’s no longer dressed in his cap and gown. No, he’s stripped himself of all his clothes, sans a volleyball clutched between his hands that covers his manly bits, and is now streaking across the auditorium. 
There’s raucous laughter and applause from the students. Scandalized gasps sound from the edges of the room where family and friends are seated. Some of the faculty try to catch Atsumu as he dash across the podium, but he’s in far better shape than any of them and easily evades them.
He jumps down and heads back up the opposite aisle he came down. You’re sitting at the edge of your row and can see him making a beeline towards you, a wildly gleeful expression on his face.
“Tsumu, what—”
“Hold this for me, babe?” he asks in a hurried breath, thrusting the volleyball into your hands. 
He’s fully exposed now. Your cheeks are hot, burning, as there’s an even bigger uproar from the students. He takes advantage of your stunned state and gives you a quick peck on the lips before dashing away once again.
A line of five men in security uniforms chase after your boyfriend. You hear the heavy auditorium doors fly open as Atsumu makes his escape.
You lean back in your seat, wrapping the volleyball in your arms and holding it close to your chest. You can’t fight the laughter that bubbles out from between your lips.
Atsumu never did tell you what he had to do since he lost the bet. So much time had passed that you thought Shion let him off the hook. 
Well, now you know that is not the case at all.
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nicarnelian · 3 months
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₊˚⊹ featuring: academic achiever! narumi gen x student council president! fem! reader
₊˚⊹ word count: 1.2k
₊˚⊹ warning: curse words, narumi being a menace, grammar errors ;-;
₊˚⊹ author’s note: literally a dump w all my thoughts. head empty, only academic achiever narumi . again, this is not beta read (i type n post lmao im gnna die w this setup) but i might make a fic w this prompt… im just lazy to edit…
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it's insane how much i think about academic achiever! narumi gen and how he would always rank first in every semestral rankings. however, his life soon crumbles when he sees his name a row lower than usual: second rank.
he thinks it was a mistake, perhaps a mistype of the school administration. however, he looks at the name above him just to see one of the few names he despises. he rubs his eyes, thinking that maybe, he was hallucinating — because there was no fucking way that student council president! reader dethroned him from his position as top of his batch.
what would gen first do in this situation? ah, yes! he would absolutely storm into the council office and make a scandal, shouting and demanding how the hell did you manage to steal that spot from him! you and your other executive officers stared at him. is he fucking delusional or plain insane? who in their right mind would storm into the council office while a meeting was in progress?
and, that was when gen declared he would snatch away his title from your hands and return it to its respective owner — him.
and, from here, you deduced that indeed, he was both fucking delusional and insane.
the both of you despise working with one another, it was like cat and dog seeing your combination with him from afar. in one class with gen, you argued to disseminate tasks as soon as the project was given, but he tended to cram that paper a week before submission, which he emphasized would take up only a meager 5% of your final grade, or simply, just because he does not care.
the conclusion to your quarrel with him? both of you end up submitting individual papers.
the professor scolded you both and asked to redo the task. gen hates it, he truly detests working with you. so dignified, so strict with time as if you were to run out of it. while he, on the other hand, preferred to be lax about it. he absolutely despises how poised you acted — as if nothing was wrong with your life.
but, then again, gen doesn't know what happens behind these curtains of your composed façade. he came to your dorm since you had to redo the project with him. you and him decided to make own respective outlines and brainstorm on the final one. gen stayed in what seemed like a small living room divided by a sliding door from your bedroom, where you stayed.
however, he peeked through your sliding door when it's time for the final brainstorming session, because you aren't answering his calls from the other side. you were asleep. on your desk. you were asleep, slumped over your desk surrounded by mountains of council paperwork and reviewers.
initially, gen was annoyed. you had the audacity to sleep, while he was researching his ass off at the other side? yup, he's annoyed, alright. however, he caught a glimpse of not only an outline, but a draft to the project the both of you were working on. he swiftly took it and analyzed it. with all honesty, it was good and he couldn’t deny that. he looked back at your sleeping figure and, mysteriously, for some sort of reason, gen carried your body onto the soft cushions of your bed. gen sat on the floor, resting his back against your bed, and began drafting your collaborative paper with your draft.
you wake up at three in the morning to find a head resting on your bed edge. gen narumi, that absolute menace who declared you a rival, was sleeping in your room, beside him was a finished project with both of your names printed on a paper. you stood up and woke him up, "hey, idiot."
he stirred awake, his left hand rubbing his eyes while his laptop rested on his right arm. "hey, miss president." he smiled. a toothy grin, with his sharp, cuspid teeth – almost like a cat.
"sleep here," you offered, patting your bed.
"are you asking me to sleep beside you? want to hook up with me that badly?" his tired eyes smiled, as he adjusted himself and settled with his laptop on your bed. gen was too tired to even engage in banter with your antics.
wow, he’s surprisingly… compliant. you thought.
however, you lit up your study desk once more and gen was easily disturbed by how you were working again. he thought you needed sleep, needed rest. it was three in the morning and he doesn't deny that you still have paperwork to do. but, if you continued working like that, it would obviously have some adverse effects on your body. you were hurting yourself with your routine.
but, it's not like he's worried, of course! he just doesn't want to snatch back his title from someone who didn't put all of their effort. he doesn't care!
but, fuck those thoughts. the thunderous beating of his heart betrayed him. his mind was cloudy as hell and he was sure to be deranged the moment he asked you, "hey, princess. what time are ya sleeping?"
then, he slapped his mouth closed. princess. he just called you princess. he's dead. he was hoping that you didn’t hear him, but your head quickly whipped towards his direction, "princess?"
crap. "hah! no! it was a slip of tongue! miss president is close to princess, right? president and princess starts with the letter p!" gen knew he was screwed, wondering what the hell he was even spouting about.
there was an awkward silence that filled the room. but, you stood up your chair, and walked towards him, bending a little bit as you closed the distance between your face and his — you saw him flinch. "if you wanted to hook up with me that badly, just say so."
gen couldn't process what you've said. he didn’t expect you to use his own words against him. and, it was three in the morning, maybe the both of you were high, maybe this was all just a dream, he thought. but, he snapped back into reality when he felt a blanket shoved in his face. he tried to remove it, but felt your hands keeping it in place. “h-hey!"
"j-just go to sleep! i'm fine! i'll sleep later!" you stammered and stuttered over your words. gen stopped struggling and kept the blanket over his entire body. the reason? because his flushed face would be exposed to you and he knew that you would tease the hell out of him.
little did he know, on the other side of the room, you were heaving heavy sighs. your face turned beet red because, what the hell did you just do?
both of you lingered in each other’s silence, neither eager to speak up about what had just happened. but gen supposed that being in this situation wasn't really that bad. if he could get the stoic and poised miss president of the council stuttering like that, then maybe he's one step closer to reclaiming that title of his.
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tojiwrd · 1 year
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6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru
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pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.
content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!
word count 4k
a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3
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Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.
Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 
It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?
“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”
Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.
“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 
You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 
“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”
You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.
Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.
“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”
You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”
You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.
She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 
Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 
Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”
You froze, stunned and silent. 
“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—
“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 
“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 
Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”
You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 
“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”
You were sure you had moved past everything. 
After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 
No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.
Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 
‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 
You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 
You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 
You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?
As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.
“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”
You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 
“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”
“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”
You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”
“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”
You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”
You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”
“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”
“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.
But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”
You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”
“But she—”
“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”
You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 
Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 
And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 
By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.
When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 
“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.
He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”
And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 
“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 
You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”
Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 
“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’
“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.
His reply was instant. “Anything.”
“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”
It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 
“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”
“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”
“No. How…”
“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”
He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 
“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”
A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 
“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 
“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”
“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”
“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”
And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.
“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”
You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”
“Do you?” he asked.
“Do I what?”
“Have that chance at being happy?”
You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 
“I do.”
He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”
You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 
He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 
Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 
“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”
And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.
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> Neptune IN the HOUSES < How your DELUSIONS find you RESOLUTIONS
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Neptune in the First - You act so naive, and now people actually think your naive. But you hate it when people treat you this way, but your always swaying around and acting oblivious to everything around you, but ik its all a front, and people find you to be mystical and now everyone is entranced by this dance you make acting oblivious. its obvious its an act, but then the more you get to know them you realize its not and thats actually who they are, and you wonder why no one has bonked them on the head yet Neptune in the Second - you dont really value anything, you think everything comes and goes, and your just like a paper bag flowing through the wind tbh. But this quality of letting things be and go, allows you to be molded by life and that can be a useful tool for artisty, but man yall just give up easy tbh. also your voices are like ethereal - kiddd cudiiiiiieee Neptune in the Third - you guys talk like a movie character, and its never the villain but the naive protagonist who just believes in a bunch of bullshit. but everyone thinks your so amusing to lissten to and i suppose you are but sometimes you guys really are playing up this movie trope and well im done watching the same movie i want a re-cast. then next week you will re-cast yourself as a new protagonist and well everyone just loves to watch you be an idiot so keep it up Neptune in the Fourth - Your literally 'good will huntings robin Williams'. you act like you figured out emotions because you let them come and go, but when someone questions whats going on with you, you find a million reasons to explain why you behave this way, and why others do, whilst completely avoiding letting your emotions out because your way too sensitive youd rather keep it at them at a distance that way you can handle it Neptune in the Fifth - You guys are the embodiment of a amusement park. YOu perform a million different acts, and never run out of ideas on how to entertain. Very amusing to watch, but people tend to take you for granted since your always so fun to be around we just expect yalll to keep performing, and you can, but this eats you up inside. then you perform again showing us how you feel as usual, and how it feels being used, and well i guess its all good because you have a never ending source of material - yourselves
Neptune in the Sixth - IMO the real mvps of delusions. No one is as delusional as them but they dont even care because they have thought of so much bullshit and have found so much evidence for their bullshit that they now realized that what most people believe in is bullshit, so they just think everything is bullshit. They dont even give a fuck anymore because to them everything isnt real, and everything is real, they have trouble understanding reality, because they have seen things no one could ever believe exists Neptune in the Seventh - Hopelessly projecting what they want in the world just for it to never come to fruition. This is actually how they pull, so dont hate their game. but they tell people how they wish things would be, and people want to save them by showing them how the world works, or giving into their stupid delusions and pretending what they believe in is real. Kinda a lot to deal with. But they'll never admit that they act so innocent but then your basically taking care of a baby Neptune in the Eighth - They make the universe bend to their will whether it wants to or not. They will pull every magic trick they know to make sure that their delusions are not delusional anymore. And its impressive how much they believe in there imaginings that it does tend to become real, but i would warn them and whoever is around them; That their fantasies tend towards the dark. so if they want something to be real (and they gonna do everything they can to get it) they may or may not resort to black magic or some shady ass shit Neptune in the Ninth - They believe in god a lot, maybe too much to appear normal. They are the type to make up a cult and behave liek mormons and say it was the will of god. The people ive met with this are strange, and their beliefs alter quite a bit, and for some reason they always have met deities and angels. But they are so delusional in their beleifs that if you hear them out, its so far fetched youll get lost in them because your so curious how someone got so lost in their own religion you wonder if they'll ever return to the real world Neptune in the Tenth - They are openly strange. Bro dennis Rodman has this conj his midheaven and its just iconic really. These guys are the strangest most ethereal beings and everyone gets lost in their cult of personality. Always switching up their identity, they think reality is bullshit and well we are all here for it because yall do the strangest things and i just wanna watch what your gonnna do next. but im still trynna figure out how close i wanna get to you because being seen with you is a risk for my reputation, because you clearly dont give a fuck about yours Neptune in the Eleventh - How many acid shirts do you own. Its like your the public personification of 'make love not war and peace bro' and its cool everyone wants a freidn like you, but no one takes your advice seriously. Because your so lost in the make believe that you think your make believe can actually make someone make believe..... But like cmon how the fuck do you think thats going to change anything. WHen has 'peace bro' ever actually worked. do your charities or whatever but i do not see it working as much as you think it can. sorry not sorry. But i do love you. But get a haircut Neptune in the Twelvth - Your literally the type to lick your finger , put it up in the air and say 'yep it going to rain wednesday' then it actually rains wednesday. And your so cooked no one believes you (because why would you) but then it does happen and now eveyrone thinks your even more cooked because what you had cookin is a real recipe. Now everyone wants to know how you have your third eye or whatever open and now you just want to hide again lmao. Also incredible artists, i recommend you guys keep your intuitive insights to yourself because you are right a lot but why tell people when everyone is just going to question how you see signs rather than heed your advice
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wantingsobad · 1 year
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are you bored yet? | h.hj x reader (a,f)
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masterlist
pairing : hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)
content : established relationship, insecure!y/n, cutest bf ever hyunjin, lots of self-doubt, angsty with a little fluff at the end
word count : 1.7 k
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“but i can’t help from asking ‘are you bored yet?’ ”
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The cold pattering of the shower onto your skin has not encouraged the effect you had been hoping for.
You had hoped that the ice-cold water would bring you back to Earth for just long enough that you could do some chores that needed to be done, but in reality, you were now stood under the running water, zoning out into an infinitesimal space of self-destruction in your mind.
The last few weeks have consisted of a constant battering and bruising of your self-worth. But all of it was caused by your own insecure thoughts.
Hyunjin has been nothing but the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, carrying you in his heart so gently as if you are the most precious thing that has ever existed. He has cared for you these past few months of dating in ways nobody else has ever even attempted to care for you.
It’s honestly a picture-perfect relationship in everyone's eyes,
except for yours.
While dating someone who might as well be considered an angel who has fallen from the sky, the floods of insecure thoughts multiplied as the months passed.
He could do better.
They are all looking at you two differently. They think you don’t deserve him.
Why would he pick someone like you?
These thoughts have led to your current predicament in the freezing shower, a useless attempt to bring back any sanity to your discouraged self. You see how this attempt is ultimately futile, and you turn off the water stream, quickly drying off and stepping out of the shower just to plop down on the floor of your bathroom, leaning against the wall.
You haven’t seen nor really talked to Hyunjin in 12 days, an insanely long time considering how often you two would call or have coffee dates together in the early mornings of the day.
He has sent a few questioning messages about where you have been or how you are, to which you would respond with such a false sense of happiness, saying that you were ‘okay, just busy’ in the least amount of words possible.
That was bullshit, and even you knew that, but the thought of facing him now after spending hours lying in bed thinking about how horrible of a partner you are for Hyunjin sounds excruciating.
Avoidance isn’t a forever option, but right now, it’s the option that works best for you.
Until the ringing of your phone begins to sound. The unique chiming is one that you had specifically set for Hyunjin so you would know to always answer that call.
You think you would rather do anything than answer that call right now.
The ringing continues to go on. You are not even making a single movement towards your phone, just letting it ring and ring up on the bathroom countertop.
You close your eyes and rest your head back up against the wall, silently praying for the ringing to finally end so you can go back into your delusional fantasy land where you will never need to talk to Hyunjin.
The phone eventually stops ringing, but it is replaced by an erratic knocking on the front door of your apartment.
You slowly stand up, still wrapped in your towel, and walk towards the front door, carelessly letting the water fall off your body to form a trail following you to the door.
You stand in front of the door, not moving to open it, as you already know who’s behind it.
If you were wrong, then you would have no clue who it-
“Y/n? Are you home?”
Your guess was right. It’s Hyunjin.
You knew that this little game of hide and seek wouldn’t last long considering the type of guy that he is, caring about you so deeply that he would take the subway at 11 pm to make sure you were okay.
Yet, you still don’t open the door. You don’t know what you would say to him.
He still deserves better. Ignoring him is for his own benefit.
“Baby, I know you are there. Please just open the door. I want to see you…”
Shit. You thought you would be stronger than this but the next thing you know you are opening the door at the sound of his pleas.
The sight of him kills you. His face is flushed a deep red and his hair is tousled due to the extremes of the late autumn weather. A quick look to his hands shows a small bouquet of flowers and a small bag from a local bakery, likely containing your favorite pasty that they make.
He quickly throws himself into you, almost dropping what he’d been holding. The hug he envelopes you in makes you feel so incredibly guilty for ignoring him.
“Why are you here?” You ask while moving a little away from the hug to see his face clearly.
“I missed you so much. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He lifts his free hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, “I just haven’t seen you in so long so I figured a surprise visit with some of your favorites would help relieve you from some of the stress of your busy schedule.”
Honestly, you wish you would just get swallowed up by the floor right now. Hearing him care so much after you have been lying to him for almost two weeks was a wild punch in the gut for you, the guilt almost unbearable.
And because of this, you move out of Hyunjin’s hold as tears start to stream down your face.
His face morphs into one of confusion and concern as he figured you would be happy to see him rather than sad.
“Hyunjin, i really think you should go home. It’s late,” you say, barely able to say this without your voice entirely failing on you.
“What? Are you okay? I’m not going home,” He steps further into your apartment closing the door behind him and setting his gifts on the floor before approaching you, waiting for you to seek comfort in him as you normally do.
But this time, you don’t move toward him. Rather, you take another step back as you avoid eye contact with him, not being able to deal with the hurt in his eyes. “I’m just not feeling well right now, Hyunjin. Thank you for coming to check up on me, but you should leave.”
“Stop calling me Hyunjin,” he says while walking further toward you so he can lift up your face so you will meet his eyes, “You never call me Hyunjin. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something, baby?”
God, you wish he wasn’t the absolute sweetest soul in the world. Of course, it wasn’t because of him. He could never do anything wrong to you.
“No, it’s not you,” you quickly spill out, not wanting him to delve any deeper down that hole, “but it’s definitely because of me.”
He gives a confused quirk of his eyebrows and a sort of sad look in his eyes, “What do you mean? You haven’t done anything.”
“That’s exactly it, Jinnie. I haven’t done anything. I just don’t understand why you are here to see me when I’m just me. How are you not bored of me yet?” This comes out straggled through your sobs, and you are practically unable to get out the entire thing.
A quick look into his eyes immediately calls out every one of your idiotic insecurities to be horribly wrong as his care for you is reflected back to you.
“What are you even saying, baby?” He starts to tear up at your admission of conscience, feeling horrible himself for not treating you better (as if he wasn’t already treating you like a goddess beforehand). “I will never get bored of you. You are my everything, Y/n. My happiness. My comfort. My love.”
“But Jinnie-“ You try to speak out to stop him from continuing.
“No. There are no ‘buts’ here. I am here for a reason, baby, because I love you so much that I was worried sick that work had been stressing you out too much with how busy you’ve been. I hated thinking about you being miserable, so I came to see you. I missed you, and I wanted to talk to you. I love you, Y/n. Does that really seem like I’m ever going to be bored of you?” Hyunjin proclaims this with his full chest, reaching and holding onto your hands so tightly just to get his point across.
You don’t think you have ever been loved as well as Hyunjin loves you. He truly, unconditionally loves you with everything that he is able to give you.
You shatter the glass pane of insecurities, pushing past those insignificant thoughts to realize that you are more than lucky to have this great of a man here to love you. You run into his arms, holding him in the tightest hug you could give. “I’m so sorry, Jinnie. I love you, too, so so so so much.”
Hyunjin breathes out a deep, relieved sigh as he reciprocates the hug. He knows you have struggled in your past with feeling insecure, but he never thought you would ever feel that way when being with him.
He gives you time to get what you need from this hug until your grip on him loosens a little. He takes the initiative this time and pulls out of the hug, transferring his admiration for you from a hug into a deep kiss that takes you by surprise.
It’s a long kiss, one that you both need. It’s a shared sign of your love for each other as you both sigh into this kiss, revelling in the affection and warmth of the other.
After breaking the kiss when needing to breathe, you and Hyunjin look at each other. This is when you truly realize how enamoured you are with him, which you can see in his eyes is exactly how he’s looking at you, with only pure love.
“Thank you, Hyunjin. You are my prince.”
He laughs airily at this but responds, “Anything for you, my princess.”
You know that these insecurities will eventually come back, but now you know that your prince will come in to swoop you up and take you away from that evil into a land of happiness and love.
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a/n : i’m sorry but hyunjin is just so boyfriend-coded that this needed to happen. this song is so good that i just had to use it as inspo. as always, requests are open and lmk how i did! - eb
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"Hypothetically speaking" - Juice Ortiz x Reader
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SUMMARY: It's basic etiquette to not try your luck with a friend's girl. But when that friends seems to have no respect for the girl, perhaps it's basic etiquette to give her the affection she deserves.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 3k
Truthfully, everyone knew it wasn't going to work out - everyone except for you. Whether you are too pure or delusional, the thought never even occured to you, while the other members of the motorcycle club knew the bitter end the moment they saw you. At first, none of them thought much of it. That's just how Jax Teller rolled, there is nothing new in that matter. It was the subsequent weeks that made them dread the inevitable:
Jax brought you around the clubhouse to help out with the accounting, housekeeping or party-throwing. Usually, you were holding a pan, a broom or a pen in your hand. Or certain other things whenever Jax needed tending to his more carnal desires.
Nonetheless, the other Sons have gotten to know you personally and it was that new friendship that bore dread in their chests. You seemed to have a curious talent for making people feel seen. Even the smallest of details never escaped your attention. Refilling the bar for the night, you'd always find time to ask Happy about his mother's health and how he was holding up. Chibs and Tig have come to expect you to ask them about their children. Their answers rarely changed and so did yours: 'I'm sure they're thinking about you.' The biggest surprise came from the prospects as they had grown accustomed to everyone pushing them around and yelling at them. So when you'd ask them whether they were hungry, at first they were sure it was some kind of a test or a ruse.
For Juice, those little signs of a soft heart were nails in his coffin. Whenever he was spending several hours in front of the computer, you'd appear with a drink and a small snack. On top of that, you always made it seem like these small acts of service are something obvious - it would be entirely strange to not care for others simply because you can. Usually, your presence would slow down his progress as Juice was willing to exchange his worktime for a conversation with you. As desperate as it may sound, he came to the conclusion that his job will still be there in twenty minutes but you will be gone the moment Jax enters the clubhouse and takes you away. Sometimes he wondered if he had Teller's charisma, would you give him a chance? Considering you were seeing his friend, he never planned on acting on his feelings. Even the thought made him cringe: fantasizing about fellow member's girl? That's a rather large 'no-go'.
As usual, the dread settled in the men's chests when you entered the clubhouse. Then, it grew ten sizes as they all silently realised that the inevitable was about to play out in front of their hungover eyes. You passed the threshold in a somewhat hesitant manner like you always did, unsure whether you're interrupting something or are even wanted there. Bobby, Tig and Chibs greet you but they're unable to hide a strange sadness to them. None the wiser, you chalk up their lack of humour to the aftermath of a night filled with vices.
The clubhouse is a temporary ruin. Bottles and glasses are scattered across all flat surfaces. One of the tables is slanted, missing one of its legs. A few pairs of bright-coloured underwear are lying here and there. Something tells you that yesterday you missed a truly historic night of fun.
"Is Jax around?" you ask. The men exchange a meaningful gaze but it goes unnoticed by you. "He left his shirt at mine yesterday afternoon, I was hoping to return it."
Tig's face cringes. There's a sorry look in his eyes. "Sweetheart-"
"He just left, actually," Bobby interjects. "Don't know when he'll be back."
You look between them, beginning to sense tension. "Alright," you answer, unsure what to make of the situation. "Then I'll just leave it in the dorm room."
Their silence makes you wary like there's a piece of information that you're missing while it's fairly obvious to others; something hidden in plain sight. You walk past them, when Tig's conscience puts up a fight once more. He makes a step towards you, hoping to stop the disaster about to unfold. Chibs, however, grabs his arm before the man can realise his plan.
"He's made his bed, brother," the Scotsman says in a low voice lest you hear their conversation.
"Come on, man," Trager answers with a look of disbelief on his face. "She doesn't deserve that."
"Aye, she doesn't." The man nods. His stern expression reveals that he, too, is more than unhappy with the unfolding events. "But it's already happened."
Juice is either really lucky or terribly unlucky to be walking down the corridor at the same time as you. His lips widen in a smile and he's about to call out to you, when he notices the white t-shirt in your hand. In a split second of considering his selfishness and your feelings, Juice decided to act against his own interest. He picks up his pace and manages to block the dorm room door just as you were about to put your hand on the handle.
"You really don't want to go in there. Trust me." Juice is trying his best to sound like he's joking but he's not a good liar - especially when you're the one he's attempting to deceive. True feelings are slipping through the cracks and you notice his nervousness.
"What do you mean?" you ask. The weirdness of the guys' behaviour that day is putting you on edge. What on Earth is going on? "It's not like there's a biological warfare behind that door."
Two laughing voices are audible from inside the room: one belongs to Jax, the other probably to a woman. Something stirs inside you, anxious and dreadful but you push it further down. No need to get upset before you get all the facts, right?
"See? Everything's fine," you say to Juice, although the reassurance is really for yourself.
The door swings open with a slight moan of the hinges. Then, as you take in the scene before you, it feels like time has slowed to a halt. Jax is sitting on the edge of the bed, scandily clad in the thin bedsheets. Maybe he covered himself when he heard the door open or he wasn't planning on getting up just yet. In the bathroom doorway stands Ima, dressed in a rather tacky purple lingerie - the cheap kind that desperately tries to have some semblance of luxury. Had the situation been less agitating, maybe you'd think that it's a fitting piece of garment for a woman of her sort.
It's hard to say whether it's the shock or resilience but you manage to keep yourself whole. The last thing you're going to do is cause a scene.
"Brought your shirt." You disturb the akward silence. Jax's expression is unreadable but Ima appears rather amused - there's a sly grin on her face. Her quiet snickering makes tears pool in your eyes. "Thought you might want it back."
Wanting to evacuate as fast as you can, you lay the t-shirt on the dresser by the door and turn around to leave the room. Juice hesitantly whispers your name as you brush past him but you can only muster a quiet apology.
Jax, suddenly realising the consequences of yesterday's impulsiveness, hastily puts on a pair of pants. He keeps yelling your name, begging you to stop and let him talk to you properly but you don't give in. Running out of the dorm room, he's stopped by Juice, who grabs his arm.
"I think you've done enough, man," Ortiz states in an angered tone.
For a moment, the two of them stare each other down in silence. The tension feels like a forest fire - one moment of carelessness might lead to a true disaster.
Both men are aware of the other's affections. It is only now that they admit this knowledge.
"You need to back off," Jax whispers. Juice is disillusioned that the Vice President would have no inhibitions in caving his face in.
But lovers oh-so-frequently tend to grow just a little unwise the more they love. Perhaps that has made all the difference on that dreadful morning.
"No," Juice says while shaking his head, "I think I should go after the crying girl who just saw her boyfriend naked in a bed with someone else."
"That's not your concern."
Looking over the blond's shoulder, Juice catches Ima's malicious amusement. She knew exactly what she was doing and not for a moment did she feel bad about it. When he looks at Jax again, his dark eyes carry more contempt than anger. "Apparently, she's not your concern either."
Before the young Teller can continue their argument, Ortiz is running down the hallway. Bobby, Chibs and Tig ask him something but he only gives them a disinterested 'later' and continues his search for you.
Despite the perfect view of the parking lot from the rooftop, you didn't notice Juice approaching you. Only when you heard the rattling of the ladder did a wave of shame flood your mind. You didn't want anyone seeing you like this, especially people of formidable grit. Some part of you dreaded being considered weak. If you were just a little more honest with yourself, maybe you'd realise that what you were truly afraid of, was the outside confirmation of what you'd already believed about yourself - too weak, too emotional to ever fit in this life.
The shame, however, seems to evaporate the moment you see Juice's apologetic expression. He always had a strange air about him, an aura you couldn't quite explain. Something about the man makes you think that you could tell him the most asinine or embarrassing thing and he would never think less of you.
With a hesitant, quiet 'hey', Juice sits down next to you. Despite his own desires, he leaves a gap between the two of you. His eyes keep switching between looking at his fiddling hands or the side of your face as though he's unsure what's the correct course of action.
"I'm stupid, aren't I?" you finally speak up. Turning your head to look at Juice, you notice a sudden change in his expression - for some reason, he looks like he's about to burst into tears, too. "Believing that he would settle for me?"
There's so much he wants to say. An entire monologue is prickling at his tongue. You'd be the one settling for him, not the other way around. Never. But Juice manages to keep those thoughts to himself for now as they are not what you need to hear at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, one day he'll get to show you that whoever you decide to marry, no matter how noble or rich, you will be the one settling for them.
"There's only one stupid person in this situation and it's not you," he says in a serious yet gentle tone. "Okay, maybe three stupid people."
Despite his resolve, Juice is only a man and he, too, must break at some point. His hand fearfully reaches for your cheek. When you don't pull away, he hesitantly wipes away a tear rolling down your face.
"Three?" you ask in a quiet voice.
"Jax is one, for obvious reasons." With the back of his hand, Juice wipes away the other side of your face. "Ima is two. And the third... is me."
Confused, you furrow your eyebrows. "You? You're not stupid, Juice. Why would you say that?"
"I'm the king of stupid, actually." He lets out an airy, bitter chuckle. Suddenly feeling small, he retracts his arm. "I just tried to cover for my dick friend, so the girl I'm in love with doesn't get her heart broken. Extra stupid points for running after her like a lost puppy that just wants to make her happy."
"That sounds more lovely than stupid," you manage to whisper before another wave of emotions wreaks havoc. Tears stream down your face again but this time it's not only the bad feelings - there's something nice among them, too. A sense of relief and belonging; an overwhelming realisation that you're loved as a person and not only as a woman.
He doesn't complain or lecture you. Neither does he attempt empty words of comfort and encouragement. Juice doesn't know what he should say, so he settles for silence. However, his quietness speaks volumes. With a soft expression on his face, he keeps wiping your tears away.
"What do I do now, Juice?"
"Whatever you want," he answers with a strange lightness to his voice. It appears that his response is not something carefully woven but rather a cliché.
You sniffle loudly and although there's nothing attractive about that, it's candid. In Juice's eyes, it only makes you more beautiful. "Right now, I don't know if that list is very short or ridiculously long."
A corner of his mouth rises in a nostalgic smile. He seems to be recalling a memory.
"Remember that one time when you couldn't sleep and found me working at the clubhouse?" Juice asks. You only nod, unsure why he would suddenly remind you of that. "Remember what you told me when I talked about all the things I still needed to get done?"
"It's only three things," you repeat under your breath. Truthfully, you have almost forgotten entirely about that conversation. Juice had been going on about all the complicated steps that had to be done before calling it a day but, in the end, it was only three things. Granted, three time-consuming, challenging things but only three nonetheless. You never thought your comment meant so much to him.
"Exactly," he says as though he had just given you the perfect recipe for anything and everything. "I'm suggesting, you do two things now. First of all, get over the guy that couldn't appreciate you."
"Sounds smart but I'm not sure I know how to do that," you admit with a nervous chuckle. Jax Teller has been a tornado to your soul: came suddenly, wreaked havoc and simply moved on. There is no one to clean the mess, no one to put the pieces back together except those that survived. And you're still at the stage of debating whether you have, actually, survived Jax Teller.
"I guess the first step is not going back to him."
As simple as it sounds, the solution might just be one of the hardest things you've ever done. Nothing good comes easy, as they say. If it's true, you're going to reach for something truly incredible with this resolution.
"And the second thing I should do?" you ask. Deep inside, you're paying he's about to suggest something silly or relaxing.
Suddenly, Juice turns shy. This biker guy with tattoos and a loaded gun is fiddling with his hands and stubbornly avoiding your gaze. Despite his appearance, you think he's adorable.
"Well, uh..." He clears his throat in a vain attempt to get rid of his shakey tone. "If you want, no pressure of course but if you find it in yourself, then maybe you could at least think about grabbing dinner with me?" Whatever your expression looks like, it must make him even more nervous as Juice immediately begins downplaying his question. "Like I said, no pressure. I know it's bad timing all things considered, so it's cool if you don't want to, it's okay-"
"I'd love to," you interrupt him.
For a moment, he silently stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Cool. That's, um... nice."
You see him ever so slightly cringe at his awkward response but you don't think him weird. No, the nervousness makes you all the more convinced you want to go out with him - the anxiety proves that he cares more than he's brave enough to admit.
"Can we add a third thing?" you ask hesitantly.
Juice smiles at you as if today is the best day of his life; the kind of smile that slowly mends broken hearts. "What's on your mind?"
"Say, just hypothetically, how annoying would it be if Ima's car had slashed tires?"
He nods slowly, a shadow of mischief dancing across his handsome features. "Really annoying."
"And if she had to pay for new ones and there'd be a bullshit charge on the receipt like premium air or something?"
The man laughs. How can a sound leave you breathless?
"She would have a really fucking shitty day," he answers.
"Just hypothetically, I'd be satisfied."
"I think I know a guy. Just hypothetically."
Silence falls between you again. It's not tense. No, it's quite the opposite - the silence of two people who can just be. Now that happiness or at least a lack of sadness has entered your face, Juice is staring at you with an expression you can't describe beyond soft. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was not looking at you but at a rare, priceless treasure he has spent his whole life searching for. But you do know better; you know that, perhaps, people can be priceless, too.
A dark thought suddenly clouds your mind: Jax used to look at you the same way. Not always, not for long but he did. And yet, as he has proven, it meant nothing for him.
You push those thoughts away with all the almost-depleted strength you have left. It's no use crying and ruminating about the past when you have your future sitting right next to you. A bright, terribly good-looking future, one might even say.
"Can you just hold me?" you ask him quietly. The heartbreak of Jax's choice and the elation of Juice's confession have left you tired and vulnerable beyond all imagination. Such opposite emotions are ripping you open in conflicting directions. It's like dying and being reborn all at the same time.
"As long as you need, baby."
Juice wastes no time happily fulfilling your request. He brings your legs over and across his own, nudging you even closer towards him. Gently, he pulls your head to rest in the crook of his neck. As strange as it may sound, the man feels like a fortress protecting you from past and future heartbreaks.
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