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literaila · 4 months

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one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not.

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months.

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning).

but now you have to check the caller id.

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh.

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here.

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still.

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you.

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end.

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then--

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying.

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before?

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from--

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice.

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door."

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live?

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking.

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?"

"what's going on?"

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help."

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since--

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that.

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile.

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him.

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them.

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has.

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?"

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance.

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them.

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you.

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry.

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?"

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find."

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment.

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were.

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you.

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head.

"no, we're good," tsumiki says.

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote.

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so.

and he's smiling adoringly at you.

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs.

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.”

“satoru.”

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?”

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious.

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you?

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin.

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.”

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.”

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?”

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.”

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?”

“you’re too pale.”

“that’s rude, you—“

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.”

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave.

you don't know which one you want more.

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something.

but this?

“what?!”

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...”

“you stole his kids?!”

“i didn’t steal—“

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!”

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?”

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“

he scowls. “of course not.”

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.”

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.”

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“

“how did you find out about them?”

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death.

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask.

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.”

“you guess?”

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not.

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met.

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.”

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.”

“how old is he?”

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head.

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.”

“and tsumiki?”

“…nine.”

“satoru.”

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?”

you can practically see him rolling his eyes.

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.”

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?”

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.”

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.”

“do you really feel the need to point that out?”

“yes. what do you know about kids?”

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.”

you frown. “what do i know about kids?”

“well, you like them, don’t you?”

“what?”

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself.

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity.

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...”

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct.

satoru pouts.

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since.

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for."

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?"

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?"

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal."

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?"

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?"

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--"

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?"

"satoru."

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--"

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them.

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?"

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?"

"replace him?"

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--"

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is."

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen.

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him."

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it."

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't."

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--"

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?"

you're silent.

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be."

you sigh. "satoru..."

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control.

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play.

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself."

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own.

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way.

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?"

"help you?"

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?"

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?"

"with me, yes."

"are you kidding?"

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help."

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper.

but you frown instead. "seriously?"

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them.

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know.

"see? they already feel safe around you."

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies."

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay."

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them."

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice.

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need."

"uh huh."

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you."

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least.

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall.

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..."

"what?"

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji."

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching.

"what? he said he didn't want to know--"

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood.

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it.

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air.

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering.

tsumiki must be sleeping.

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table.

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet.

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed.

"you were up pretty late, though."

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before.

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you?

you clear your throat. "how old are you?"

he looks up again. "six. why?"

"satoru wasn't sure."

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to.

"and tsumiki?"

"seven."

you nod, stepping away.

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac?

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?"

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast?

and then he nods, slowly.

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like."

next part.

1K notes · View notes

lavendermaelk · 2 years

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Carnal Domesticity

Henry Winter x Fem!Reader, The Secret History

!!!MDNI!!! Word Count: 3k Content Warnings: Kissing, Oral Sex, P in V Sex, Chair Sex, Drinking, Smoking, Shotgunning (smoking), OOC-ish Henry, Dom-ish!Henry, Reader is a cis woman Author's Note: The ending kinda sucks, ngl.

It was a cool October morning, the sun peeking out from behind the clouds now and then to shine into Julian’s office where the seven of his students sat while the ancient Greek professor was going on about a passage in the readings that were assigned for the night before. The kettle was starting to whistle in the background and Julian paused himself to get the kettle and teacups for everyone as well as a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar should the students desire some. [Y/N] finished the last bullet point on her notes before setting down her pen and reaching up to stretch some.

She was enjoying the brief moment of rest before she felt a gentle nudge as the other students slowly stood to start grabbing their tea. Henry had gently bumped her with his elbow, a hint of a smile on his normally stationary lips. [Y/N] gave a little nod and got up, moving to get her own tea as the spectacled man followed behind her. Once everyone fixed their tea and sat back down, Julian continued on, taking up the rest of the hour to preach about Greek prose and how one could utilize it to convey certain things or something of the sort.

When the lecture came to a close, the seven students thanked Julian for the lesson and tea, slowly filing out of his office and out to the breezy, open pathways. [Y/N] adjusted the bag on her shoulder and buttoned up her coat a little more to fight off the chill, bringing her shoulders to her ears in hopes that her lapels would block the wind from nipping at her neck. She felt a soft warmth wrap around her, the thick fabric of Henry’s scarf concealing her neck and part of her face, enticing a soft chuckle from her and a quiet ‘thank you’ as the group started to migrate to [Y/N]’s apartment for lunch.

Francis and Richard walked ahead, both of them making light talk while the twins trailed behind them, lightly bickering about God knows what this time, and Bunny hung back with [Y/N] and Henry. The blond walked on the other side of Henry, chattering his ear off while the brunette gave him short answers and hums of acknowledgement, silently hoping that he would run out of things to talk about but that was never a common occurrence with Edmund.

Lunch had gone rather well, [Y/N] had gone shopping the afternoon before knowing she had to feed six other people, five of which were grown men. She had made a simple roast that she left in the oven during class and some veg to go along with it. As long as everyone was satisfied, she was happy with herself.

Everyone was full and grateful, the twins and Francis deciding to set up shop and start tackling their Greek while Richard bid his goodbyes and hurried off to his French class. Henry was over by the window, pulling a cigarette from the box he’d kept in his pocket and holding it between his lips to light. Bunny had to head off, something about meeting Marion for an early dinner despite having just eaten. [Y/N] smiled at the sight of her friends before sauntering over to Henry, letting him exhale the cloud of smoke before gently plucking the cigarette from between his lips and taking a drag herself. “Do you want a drink?” she asked, taking another hit before handing it back to him.

“Sure,” Henry nodded.

“Can I have one too?” Charles chirped from the coffee table, perking up a bit as he heard the word ‘drink’.

“Yeah,” [Y/N] chuckled softly before going to the kitchen to pour them each an inch of scotch. She took the glasses to the living room and handed them out before going back to lingering by Henry’s side and sipping on her own glass and leaning her head on his arm.

It didn’t take very long for the three at the coffee table to finish up, slowly starting to pack up and leave, waving their goodbyes. [Y/N] saw them out the door, giving the boys pats on the back and Camilla a friendly kiss on the cheek, waving one last time before closing and locking the door behind herself before turning to look at Henry. He had moved to sit in the armchair, lighting another cigarette as he set his nearly empty glass of scotch on the coffee table. She smiled softly at him, glancing at the clock to see it read ten past four as she moved to make herself comfortable in his lap, straddling his thighs and taking the cigarette from him once more.

“Did you enjoy lunch?” She asked, brushing his hair away from his forehead while his spare hand settled on the small of her back.

“Of course I did. Cleaned my plate and all.'' He smiled softly, an expression that was near exclusive for her. His large hand gave her back a gentle rub and he took the cigarette back to take another drag. “C’mere” he mumbled, gently taking her by the chin and bringing their lips together. He let out a sigh as she started to kiss him slowly, his smoke filling her mouth which she hungrily inhaled. She could taste the bitter whiskey and tobacco on his lips but it was the sweetness of his kiss that made her moan into his lips. Every kiss they shared, he managed to taste like he’d just swallowed a sugar cube. It was addicting, more than that, it made her core rumble with need.

Henry chuckled softly at her soft noises, setting the cigarette down in an ashtray and bringing his hand to her hip so he could pull her close. He let out a soft groan as she pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck, his large, pale hands giving her flesh a gentle squeeze. Another whine left her lips as he felt around her body, cupping her curves and smoothing over her wool and cotton clad skin. She pulled away slightly, a thin string of saliva connecting their swollen lips as their heated breath mingled before she dipped her head and she started to kiss at his clean shaven jaw. He still smelled of aftershave and his cologne with a hint of his natural scent from wearing so many layers and moving around for the better half of the day. One of her hands slid up some more to run her fingers through his dark hair, gently tugging at it as her spare hand slid down his chest and back up under the sweater he had worn on top of his white button up.

Henry gave a soft chuckle at her eagerness, his hands gripping at her thighs as his chest rumbled with his voice. His hands wandered just as hers did, trailing the curve of her behind before finding their home on her waist, giving her a teasing squeeze before slowly pulling her jumper from its neatly tucked place beneath the long skirt that was belted in place.

“This one’s mine, isn’t it?” he asked softly, his vocal chords humming underneath the gentle yet hungry touch of her lips. She gave a little hum in affirmation and he smirked a little, starting to pull the knit sweater up off of her torso, forcing her lips to detach from his skin for one short yet agonizing moment. As Henry put the sweater over the arm of the leather chair, [Y/N] undid the top few buttons, revealing the necklace he’d gifted her long ago sitting beautifully against her skin. It was a simple chain, one matching the link that was around his right wrist that he’d gotten for the first birthday she’d spent at Hampden.

The pulsing heat in Henry’s trousers had started to bother him with [Y/N] sitting right on it, teasingly pressing herself down on him, her own hands lifting the sweater up and running across his chest. He let her remove the knitted wool and set it aside before his hands found themselves undoing the rest of the buttons on her shirt and peeling it off of her.

She began to do the same for him, undoing his buttons to reveal his toned chest and abdomen. One would expect someone who spends most of their time reading and studying the classics and dead languages not to be as fit as he was but it seemed that he never dropped the regimen he’d put in place when he was injured in high school. Her fingertips brushed against his pale skin, his muscles twitching slightly as her touch left a burning sensation in its wake as she pushed the cotton weave off of his shoulders.

Henry huffed softly, leaning up a little to let the fabric fall off of his frame. Her hands dragged down his chest before they slowly tugged the dress shirt out from his pants and started to work on his belt. She made quick work of the leather strap, moving on to his button and zipper.

“Needy today, are we?” Henry teased, letting her do as she pleased. [Y/N] rolled her eyes at him playfully as she got up only to kneel between his legs, tugging at the loose waist of his trousers.

“I always need you~” she muttered, pressing a kiss to his knee as he let her have what she wanted. He pushed down the fabric that had been hugging his hips all day, his growing length revealing itself to her with a throbbing excitement. [Y/N] licked her lips hungrily as her eyes trailed along the shaft, focusing on his dripping tip before locking eyes with the man who was staring down at her with a lusty amusement.

She gingerly reached for it, her hand wrapping around his thickness and giving it a slow stroke which pulled a low groan from him. [Y/N] looked up at him once more before closing in, wrapping her glossy lips around the head and letting his taste coat her tongue. A soft moan came from her as she started to suck, her hand still slowly stroking him up and down.

Henry’s hand came down, brushing her hair out of her face and holding it back so he could watch her work. His pale cheeks started to take on a crimson hue as [Y/N] continued to pleasure him. He never pushed her down and did his best not to buck up into her mouth, simply holding her hair out of the way. He was enamored with how she could bob her head and take more of him so effortlessly, how her moans sounded around him and how her sweet noises made the pit of his belly tighten with need.

[Y/N] kept going, eager to make him finish as Henry continued to let out soft groans and huffs before the nearsighted man guided her head back up and he doubled over to pull her into a needy kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks, thumbs caressing the curve of her cheekbones as his fingertips nearly got lost in the roots of her hair. He kept her there, tasting himself on her sweet sweet lips for a moment too long before letting her go and standing up.

“Take it all off. Let me see you,” Henry ordered her, standing from the chair. His white shirt hung on his elbows as he reached down to stroke his aching cock, watching as [Y/N] stripped for him. She pulled the button up off of her arms and set it aside before unbuckling her belt and letting the long tweed skirt fall to the floor. Next were her tights, her hands pushing down the thin nylon as she shimmied out of them and then moved to take off her underwear. She unhooked her bra and let her panties fall to the floor as well before picking them up and setting them on the couch adjacent to the plush armchair. “Get on the chair. Legs up.”

She did as was told, sitting on the edge of the seat and leaning back to pull her legs up and onto the upholstered arms. Henry moved to kneel in front of her, mimicking her position from before as his hands ran across the undersides of her thighs and his lips lowered to press kisses around her dripping slit. He continued to tease her, kissing and nipping just around her needy cunt to hear her whine and watch her squirm.

“Henry, please” [Y/N] whimpered as her hand moved down to grip onto his dark hair. He let out a soft grunt as her tight grip tugged at his hair, almost trying to direct his lips onto her aching clit. A deep chuckle left him and he pulled his wire rimmed glasses off his face, setting them to the side before brushing his lips against her swollen bud, just barely giving her what she needed from him. Another whine came from her as she felt his touch ghost over her skin before he succumbed to her wordless begging and placed a kiss to her clit. It drew a shaky mewl from her lips and he continued. He dipped his head further down to drag his tongue along her leaking slit, gathering her juices on his tongue before he wrapped his lips around her clit. She uttered curses as he professed his love against her cunt, his tongue circling her bud as he gently sucked on it. His hands kept roaming the bottoms of her thighs as she started to writhe underneath him.

One hand joined his mouth, pulling her folds apart before he moved down to drink her drippings like it was ambrosia and he craved immortality. Henry pushed his tongue into her, his grip on her thigh tightening slightly as his thumb started to circle her clit. His eyes fluttered closed as she twitched and tightened around his tongue, the pad of his thumb pressed down and continued its circular rubbing as he professed his love for her, spelling out each word against her tight walls. He continued on, eager to hear more of her sweet noises while she squirmed in his hold.

Henry slowly pulled away, her sweet noises and the aching of his manhood starting to become too much for him. His cock twitched as he straightened up, watching as her chest rose and fell with each staggered breath. What a sight. Henry leaned down, his shaft fitting against her folds as he pressed their hips together, and he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You’re so beautiful, especially like this.” Henry sighed softly, pushing his hair back as he started to rock his hips against hers, his length collecting her wetness and brushed against her clit.

“Henry, please” [Y/N] sighed, her core aching to be filled by him. She reached out, her hands landing on his forearms as his own settled beneath the crook of her knees. He pushed them as far as they would go before pulling back and letting his tip settle at her entrance. He started to press in, groaning softly as her walls hugged him tight with no intention of letting go. He relished in the welcoming warmth of her body and kept his advances slow. He pushed in and out a few times as he eased his cock into her, her grip on his arms tightening each time he descended further into her core. Henry took his time working himself in until their hips met, soft moans tumbling out of both their lips.

[Y/N] ‘s back arched up off the seat slightly as he started to thrust agonizingly slowly, her toes curling as he hit the deepest parts of her with such ease.

“Love, please!” she begged, tightening her grip on his arms as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Harder, faster, please Henry!”

He appeased her neediness, starting to drive his hips a bit faster as he snapped into her with more force. He leaned forward more, his head pressed against the back of the chair as he watched her gasp and whine at the change of pace. Her hand slid down his arm and started to rub at her clit as he continued to thrust into her, soft huffs and grunts coming from him.

“Fuck. You take me so well, darling.” he praised between grunts. He continued to thrust, his hand moving hers out of the way so he could rub her clit and press down with each thrust. [Y/N] gasped and whined as he did so, the pit of her stomach tightening as she felt him nudge her closer to the edge with each slap of his hips against hers. His thrusting had roughened some more, now faster as he did his best to keep up the steady cadence.

[Y/N] let out another whine as her walls tightened around him again, gripping at him wherever she could.

“T-There! Just like that, Henry!” she gasped as he rolled his hips into her harshly. “I’m so close, don’t stop!”

The broad man did as he was told, keeping the pace and hitting her deep within her core. It only took a few more strokes with his thumb rubbing over her clit to send her over the edge. It was as if he had reached in and pulled the cry of pleasure from the pit of her belly as her back arched up. She shook underneath him, her walls clamping down on his length and rapidly contracted, almost trying to milk him dry as he stayed buried deep inside her. Henry let out a grunt, huffing and moaning softly as his own orgasm washed over him, his length twitching and pulsing in time with her body. He nearly couldn’t hold himself up anymore, slowly pressing his torso down onto hers and burying his face into her hair as he held her close.

Henry turned his head, starting to kiss at the spot underneath her ear as [Y/N] laid there, leaning into his touch while they both came down from their highs. It took Henry a moment but he lifted his head to look at her dazed expression

“My beautiful beautiful [Y/N]” he mumbled before pressing a light kiss to her lips. He held her close for a while longer, not wanting to pull away from her warmth just yet.

"Do that to me more often~" [Y/N] sighed out with a soft giggle, pulling another grin from Henry's lips.

"Yes ma'am~"

#lavender writes~🖋️#henry winter #henry winter x reader #the secret history #donna tartt #richard papen #bunny corcoran #francis abernathy #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #the secret history x reader #afab reader #dark academia #minors dni #minors dont look #smut #the secret history smut #henry winter smut

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fxckn-sxck-fr · 3 months

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𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄

Yandere Dick Grayson x GN Reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: This AU came to me in a dream. The best honor you can bestow on a character is a yandere Ghostface fic, so I obviously had to give one to my man.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: yandere content, Ghostface Dick Grayson, stalking, blood, stab wounds, reader is implied to be a college student, reader likes horror movie trivia, Dick’s kinda freaky in this, OOC Dick (since he’s obviously not a serial killer in canon), the writer’s poorly disguised blood kink (nothing NSFT-worthy, but it’s definitely there).

… Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring…

Honestly, the phone ringing from the kitchen might’ve been the best jumpscare of the night. At least it was unexpected, unlike the tactics of this low budget slasher film you were watching (what was it called again? Agh, you’d have to look at the channel menu, and you lost the remote long ago). With a small sigh, you pulled yourself out of the couch and stretched your arms outwards, reveling in the satisfying pops elicited from your shoulders.

… Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring…

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled. “I’m coming.”

The phone was in the middle of a fourth ring when you finally reached the kitchen. Picking it up with a loose arm, you punched in the answer button and brought it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

An unfamiliar voice greeted you on the other end. It was low and velvety, with the slightest gravelly texture around the edges that made the back of your neck feel prickly. Your brows furrowed at their teasingly flirty tone, not liking where this could be going. “And who is this?”

“You tell me,” replied the unknown caller.

“Sorry, got no idea.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, facing the living room so you could at least half-tune into movie still. “So… can I help you with anything, or…?”

“What’s your name?”

Okay. Whoever this guy was, he was seriously starting to creep you out and piss you off. “Dunno, you tell me,” you mockingly answered. “How did you get this number?”

“No need to be so rude,” the voice cooed at you. “I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Not very fond of talking to strangers,” you distastefully mumbled.

“You must not make a lot of friends, then.”

“Well,” a puff of air left your lips, “I manage.”

“Sure doesn’t look like it.”

… Huh?

Vocal chords feeling suddenly dry, you thickly swallowed. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Come on now, gorgeous.” There was a chuckle before the caller continued. “It’s a Friday night. Shouldn’t you be out with friends instead of watching old scary movies all by yourself?”

Your blood turned ice cold.

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Who the hell is this weirdo, not only giving you a random call, but also spying on you? Was this some sort of prank from that dumbass fraternity down the street? Some sort of tradition they have to call up new residents in the townhouses and try to scare them shitless? But if that’s the case, how the hell did they get your number?

Another chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts. “Don’t look so tense, love. I only wanna talk, remember?”

“Talk,” you flatly echoed, turning around slowly to face the kitchen window. While you didn’t see anyone out there from where you were standing, it was too dark to know for sure. “About what?”

There was a long pause. All you could hear for several seconds was your quickening heartbeat and over-acted screams from the TV. It lasted for so long, wondered if your trembling fingers somehow accidentally hit the hang-up button.

Finally, the unknown caller spoke up again.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Your brows furrowed at the question. Why the fuck did he want to know that?

“Can’t say I have a favorite,” you shakily answered.

“Everyone’s got a favorite,” reasoned the caller. “Even I have one.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes darted between the window and the backdoor, praying you remembered to lock both of them. “What’s yours, then?”

“Guess.”

“… Friday the 13th?”

“Nope.”

“John Carpenter’s Halloween?”

“Guess again.”

“Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“You’re really bad at this.”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you, or a shadowy figure was emerging from behind the bushes. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you began to slowly back out of the kitchen. “Well… then I give up. Tell me.”

“Nuh-huh, sweetheart. The game doesn’t work like that. And besides…”

You were now at the threshold in between the kitchen and the living room. “Yeah?”

“Three strikes and you’re out.”

A click, then a low beep; the call was dead.

Just like you’ll probably be if you stick around.

While you weren’t exactly sure if “out” meant he was going to kill you, you sure as hell didn’t want to find out. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that only murderers made ominous quips like that. So, dropping your phone to the ground and spinning on your heals, you made a b-line towards the front door and fiddled with the lock. If he could see you from the kitchen, then that obviously meant he was out back; he’d have to circle around the entire line of townhouses if he wants to catch you in the front. That would give you enough time to start banging on doors, and at least someone would have to let you in, right?

As soon as you threw the door open, however, it became shockingly apparent that you made the wrong decision.

Looming in the doorframe was a broad figure in black robes. He wore a porcelain white mask with exaggerated mouth and drooping eyes, reminding you for a split second of some sort of Scooby-Doo monster. The only difference between one of those and this fucker, however, was the rather sharp-looking knife he were twirling in their gloved hand.

He gave you a tiny wave with his free hand.

You began to book it back into the kitchen.

Before you could even clear the living room, however, a sharp pain exploded in the back of your shoulder, causing you to cry out as your knees buckled. You were sent careening towards the ground as something ripped out of your skin; his knife, you realized with complete and interr horror. With grunts of agony, you struggled to push yourself off of the linoleum floor in hopes to get back to your feet.

An impressed whistle pierced the air. “Took that like a champ, sweetheart. So proud of ya.”

You finally managed to get yourself to a semi-crouched position, only for a hand to grab at your wounded shoulder and shove you down. The shout that was ripped from your chest was cut off as your jaw harshly slammed against the linoleum floor. Metallic blood flooded your mouth as your teeth caught your tongue in the impact, only adding to the cacophony of pain. There was still a firm hand on your shoulder, which squeezed tighter so he could roll you over and face him.

“You look so pretty when you’re terrified,” your attacker cooed, his blood-splattered mask only inches away from your face. He lowered himself to straddle your hips, his body weight pinning you against the floor. “Way better up close.”

“Please,” you pathetically pleaded, some of your bloody spit dribbling down your chin. “Please…!! Please, just let me go!!”

A low rumble came from him — a weird mix between a laugh and a groan — as he held the knife up against your neck. The blade was still warm, your own dark blood staining your skin. “Yeah, go on... beg for your life, love.”

God, why was this happening to you?! All you wanted to do was watch some cheap slasher movie and take it easy for the night, and now you’re one slice away from certain death?? Was this seriously gonna be how you go out; murdered in your own living room with old reruns playing on the TV? A choked sob left your lips at the pitiful thought.

“Please don’t kill me,” you whimpered, feeling the edge of the knife catch your skin as your throat bobbed from swallowing. “Please…”

“Good job, gorgeous,” he condescendingly praised. “Just like that. Don’t you know how hot you look right now?”

Christ… this guy was fucking disgusting. The way he seemed so into this made your skin crawl. His free hand came up to caress your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind with it. Swiping his thumb across your lower lip, he hooked his index finger under your chin and tilted your head upwards. It took you a few moments to register that the weight of the knife’s blade was removed from your neck, now being held gently against your cheek as he let out a hum.

“You’re quite the catch,” he mused, pressing the blade harder against your cheek to draw blood. You couldn’t help but sharply inhale at the stinging sensation.

“Why are you…” a noise of pain interrupted your sentence as he slowly slid the knife down to your jawline, “doing this..?!”

He didn’t seem to care for your question. Instead, he released your chin from his leather hand, bringing it up to his mask and stroking the elongated jaw. It was as if he was pondering something, his fingers smearing your speckled blood downwards until he got to the tip of his mask’s chin. Then, in a slow, deliberate movement, he began to tug the mask upwards to reveal a crooked smirk. Your stomach dropped entirely when you realized he was confident enough about this to let you see part of his face; he really was going for the kill.

“I’d like to think this thrill is a lot better than the cheap scares in movies,” he teased, bringing the knife back to your throat and leaning closer to your face. You could feel his hot breath against the cut on your cheek as he finished with, “and I think you’d agree.”

Your shoulders jolted at the sudden wetness against the side of your face, and it dawned upon you that the fucker was licking you. His tongue ran up your shallow gash, clearing away whatever amount of blood that bubbled from it. You felt your face crinkle up in disgust as he continued to lap at it, like he was a little kid licking an ice cream cone (you could even hear him click his tongue against the roof of his mouth and swallow; this fucking psycho was actually consuming your blood).

Once he seemed satisfied, he pulled away a few inches to run his red-stained tongue over his lips. “You know… my favorite scary movie is actually Dracula. I was always into the classics.”

“Dracula,” you shakily repeated, feeling cold sweat collect on the back of your neck. “1930s? Tod Browning?”

He let out a hum of approval. “Wow. You seem to know your stuff, sweetheart! Didn’t realize you were that into the genre.”

“I… I guess…”

“Yeah?” The leather of his gloves creaked as he clenched the hilt of the knife tighter. “Isn’t this perfect for you, then? Getting to live out the real deal? Lot’s of horror movie junkies out there would absolutely kill to be in your position right now.”

Your limbs felt numb, petrified to the floor with pure terror. “Never thought I’d s-star in one…!”

“What a shame,” he tutted. “You’re a perfect fit for the victim role.”

The blade began to dig deeper into the meat of your neck.

This was it. This is how you were going to die. You could barely hear the resolution of the movie in the background over your palpitating heart as the blade dug deeper into the meat of your neck. With any luck, he’d make this a quick one, putting you out of your misery so you didn’t have to suffer through a slow, painful death. If he wasn’t that nice, however, your vision was already spotty from blood loss, so there was at least the possibility of you passing out before it got too agonizing.

But then, just as you could feel your own blood dribbling down your collarbone, the pressure was alleviated.

“Come to think of it, though…” he pulled the mask back down his face, giving it a little jostle to make sure it was correctly oriented. “Killing you off so soon would be disappointing.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I want to see you in the sequel.”

Without another word, he slowly pushed himself off of you to stand up. You took this as the perfect opportunity to desperately crawl away, wide and careful eyes still trained on him in case he lunged at you again. Fortunately, it seemed as though he truly was done for the night, taking a few steps back from you as he twirled the knife in his one hand. With the other, he gave a tiny wave, and practically skipped out the front door, even having the courtesy to slam it behind him.

He just spared your life.

You could practically feel yourself melting into the cracks of the linoleum floor. Holy shit, he just spared your life. After all of that — finding your number, calling you outside of your house, stabbing you, and having the perfect opportunity to finish you off — he decided to spare your life. What the fuck just happened.

Well, it’s not like you had time to deliberate on that; you were kinda still bleeding out right now. He did stab you, after all.

So, rolling yourself over on all fours, you clutched the bloody wound on the back of your shoulder and began to crawl towards the kitchen as the ending credits rolled on your shitty slasher film.

So… as it turns out, the phone ringing was not the best jumpscare of the night.

#❥ TW: YANDERE #❥ GHOSTFACE AU #❥ YANDERE CHARACTER #❥ ROMANTIC(?) YANDERE #❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON #❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON X READER #❥ GN READER

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ghouhlish · 5 months

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Dead Plate Wednesday AU

(Taster.)

Chapter 1

Some explanations + the end of the first proper day. It’s on the shorter side.

Just some stuff to hype me for writing (I have a bit of block the last year and I also lost the password to my old acc…..)

Please excuse typos or misspelling!

CHARACTERS ARE OOC and tbh Enid is my fav Wednesday artist’s version.. kinda.

CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP! (Not for smut, just for plot. And you cannot pay me to write about school life in detail.)

Wednesday is Vince, obviously.

So that means Enid is Rody, working around the clock serving up the dishes Wednesday oversees are perfect.

She’s saving up for her loving boyfriend, Ajax! Sure he hasn’t showed for a while when he had promised, but he’s probably stoned, right?

They work at Jericho, it’s a restaurant like in the original, however they serve coffee with certain meals and they have special brewers in the kitchen.

Wednesday has ZERO taste, she drinks straight black coffee, she serves food bitter, sour, not particularly to Enid’s taste, but it’s not for her, until it is.

Enid packs away, she takes out the dirty plates, she passes her regards to the chefs, dishwashers, coffee makers, everyone.

She takes out the trash, she wipes down the tables, all with a wine bottle she’s gotten used to gripping tightly in her hand precent.

Wednesday watches her. Hawk eyes scorch the wolf’s oblivious brain. She’s checking for imperfections, quite simply. The dishes not being fully put away, a spec of dirt on the table.

Enid is different and she just doesn’t know why.. she needs to find out. She needs to know everything about herself and this waiter is just an anomaly in that confidence of self. She forms an idea.

Wednesday shows no sign of cracking the sick smile she wants to as she passes Enid a firmly wrapped plate.

“Enid.” The werewolf’s ears perk and she stiffly turns, bin bag in hand, thinking she’s at the very least in mild trouble for her shotty service. One table left and there was a critic, on her first day.. She swiftly walks over, small grimace on her face.

Wednesday holds out the plate. “Do you have somewhere to put this?” Enid’s head tilts. “It’s for you. Do you have anywhere to put it?”

Enid huffs, tension releasing. “Uhh..” she thinks for a second, finally putting down the wine. “No.”

Wednesday’s eyebrows raise, she’s waiting for something.

…

“Do you need a bag?”

“Yes, please” Enid flashes a crooked smile, eyes crinkling. The Raven pauses. She looks at both of Enid’s eyes, searching. Then the places the plate down and disappears into her office.

Enid holds the plate and looks at it. Ew. It looked fine, but it felt wrong. Certain things just feel wrong, like when you click a button but then you need to click it again so then it’s like it reset. This food cannot be reset.

She just looks down at it. She feels grateful, sure, but it just..

Wednesday holds out the bag and Enid almost jumps, just settling for blinking multiple times at the girl, then quickly putting the plate into the bag and taking it from her. Silent.

The ride home felt wrong. The bag swayed on the handle whenever the bike turned or whenever Enid’s knee hit off of the plate.

It was a normal bag, plain white. Like a bag you would get after going to a high end restaurant.

It was quickly shoved into the fridge, the bottom shelf, and forgot about.

She picks up the phone and begins, from heart, to dial up Ajax, tell him about her weird Co worker, how she gave her food and how off it felt, how much she misses him,

how it doesn’t matter how long they haven’t seen each other because they can make it through anything,

How much she’s saving up for him,

how she will take him somewhere nice,

How she will be nice..

The line cuts. Guess he’s stoned again.

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serenelia · 4 months

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shamefully crawls back to the blue circle button on the bottom right corner and posts:

ᴀ ʜᴜᴍʙʟᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ

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Tags: language barrier, mild embarrassment, may or may not be ooc, posible grammatic errors (I'm sorry)

Characters/letters count: 6,985

Previous part

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previous part

quietly leaves

===================================

After walking for a while with Wanderer, (Name) had forgotten how far the god forsaken Sanctuary of Surasthana is.

In game, they'd usually just teleport there and use a characters skill to go up. But they didn't realize how tiring it is to actually use your legs to go there.

Why are there so many stairways and ramps!?

The two had already taken about two breaks already. And without Wanderer's help, it would've taken atleast 5 or more before they reach where the teleporter near the Sanctuary is.

Trying to avoid his judgemental stares is becoming more and more difficult as they try to suppress their heavy breaths, with a hand on their chest, aching legs, and sweaty back. A pathetic attempt to appear nonchalant.

As they swipe a hand to their forehead, Wanderer heaves what they guess an irritated sigh. After all, for someone who managed to end up and is from another world, being physically unfit is.. slightly embarrassing.

Well, to be more precise, it's humiliating.

Especially since he's one of the characters they like, they'd want to have a proper first impression of course. And it was going well for a few minutes, but it's falling apart every second now.

It only becomes worse when he stops walking and turns around, crossing his arms while trying his best not to look too judgemental when looking at her. (Name) places their hands on their knees, head hung low from exhaustion and also to avoid his stare.

When all of a sudden, he clears his throat. Earning their attention and they glance up to see him making his way towards them. Catching (Name) off guard, they freeze, uncertain what to do. Is he going to start dragging them up the ramp now?

As he draws near, they subconsciously try to move away, head lowering as if afraid he'd hit them. From the shadow on the ground, they could catch his outreached hand flinch, before he then carefully takes one of their arms and places it over his shoulder.

(Name)'s eyes widen, head slightly turning to stare at him. Not expecting him to offer a lending hand, thinking he'd stand still on his spot and just wait for them to walk again.

To be fair, he is actually way more nicer than they anticipated. Maybe the view of him they have is still stuck in his Scaramouche era. But his previous actions say otherwise.

If he was, he'd probably deal with them more aggressively from the start. Most likely dragging them to a lab.

Both of them stay unmoving for a few seconds before (Name) finally caught on that he's actually waiting for them for.. something.

Is he making sure that I'm standing properly first?

Awkwardly and hesitantly, they get out of their bending position, standing up right though almost collapsing on the spot as the aching pain of their feet suddenly hit them like a whip splash.

Wanderer let out a sound of surprise as he tightens his grip on them. And (Name) could feel their embarrassment spike up when their legs wobble.

After they both managed to balance themselves, up the long ramp they go with conjoined effort. Mostly consisting of Wanderer's strength to carry their weight like it's nothing.

thankfully, after a few more minutes, they finally reach the Sanctuary of Surasthana. They pause at the entrance for a few moments, Wanderer speaking with the guards it seems, but of course, (Name) can't understand them.. yet.

After a few words of exchange, one of the guards then suddenly walks over to them both and takes a look.

Noticing the guards lingering gaze, (Name) shrinks in on themselves and attempted to hide their face on Wanderer's shoulder. Who would want a random person to just stare at them anyway? And why is he staring?

Don't tell them it's because of what they're wearing 'cause.. ok, it might actually be because of their clothing but it's still rude to stare!

(Name) was only able to hide half of their face before Wanderer speaks up again, and when he does, it makes the guard lean back and walk away to open the door for them.

It really sucks they can't understand what they're saying. Even though they've thought of that a dozen of times already, it still sucks.

They're really curious to know what he said!

Walking inside, they finally enter the Sanctuary. Looking around, (Name) had hoped there were chairs just laying around the place, but apparently, it persists to follow the game and chose to let them suffer even further.

They had almost forgotten about the fact that the floor is completely uneven inside. And they were generously reminded of it when they accidentally trip a few steps in. And they would have fallen face first on the floor if Wanderer's grip on them is loose enough, but surprise, surprise again, it seems he only needs one arm to support a whole person.

(Name) glances at him in surprise, and he doesn't seem bothered at all by it. Well, that's what they could guess from his nonchalant expression. It's like he doesn't even notice anything.

Which to say, is impressive. They underestimated Ei's puppet making skills.

But they still become doubtful of their stance, do they just stay like that the whole meeting? Wouldn't he get tired? Should they try and stand up to lessen their weight on him?

Too lost in their thoughts, (Name) fails to notice that Nahida had already appeared infront of them.

–—–—–—–

"Oh? You came back sooner than I expected. And who might this be?" Nahida asks, curiosity lacing her tone along while a light snile forms on her face.It's not everyday that Wanderer would willingly bring someone over and request a meeting with her.

She looks at the person closely, letting her eyes wander. Taking in to account the appearance of the guest, perhaps she's over thinking the whole thing, surely anyone would dress a bit more.. formal for a meeting. ..That is if he had even been bothered to tell them that they're attending a meeting? By the looks of it, it's seems that he just dragged them out of bed with no after thought whatsoever. Nahida sighs and shakes her head at the possibility.

She resists the urge to stare any longer, lest she might accidentally offend them. "I don't know their name, but I've confirmed that they come from another world." Wanderer answers.

...oh, well she didn't consider that possibility.

"Why do you say so?" Nahida doubts anyone would outrightly say that they come from another world. Much less to him as... he doesn't exactly have a friendly face.

Or maybe they are just that desperate? Perhaps scared fits it more accurately.

Wanderer shifts his weight, "Talked through it with some shapes, hopefully my interpretation is correct or I might've accidentally led destruction to this world." He says, looking almost amused.

"That is unlikely. Anyone who feels threatened would be agitated in some way. But from the looks of it, they just seem very.. tired." Nahida glances at them, she feels sorry for what they could've went through.

To be fair, she would've been more surprised if it weren't for the Traveler and the sibling, is Teyvat slowly becoming a gathering of outwordly beings?

If she were to ask what their intention was, it would probably end up fruitless. Knowing her companion would have made them spit it out the moment he confirmed that, so another problem could be present. Trouble in communicating perhaps? The fact that he's rather calmly has them resting over his shoulders means that they're probably not a threat to say the least.

The Puppet squints his eyes, "I know that face. Just so you know, I never laid a hand on them." He pauses, "In a threatening way."

"Yes, of course," Nahida says, looking at the slumped guest, "I don't doubt that you did."

She walks up to them once Wanderer huffs and stretches out her hand just near their head. A flurry of dendro float above them, Nahida couldn't see their expression through the light, so hopefully they don't think they're trying to threaten them.

It's sent to circle their head, forming a make-shift crown so the process could be a bit more easier to transfer some energy into them. Nahida's area of expertise isn't particularly healing, so it'll have to make do so they can attempt to communicate properly.

Yet instead of the bundle of energy getting into their system, the dendro just.. fades.

Confused, Nahida tries again.

It doesn't work.

Once she notices the repeating pattern, the god of wisdom tries again but with the intent of examining the element.

The flurry of dendro then makes its way to their head, as Nahida makes slow movements during it, Wanderer's expression grows complexed. Noticing how the traveler doesn't even emit a reaction throughout it, somehow just as confused as they were.

As expected, the dendro simply fades away once more. Nahida stays still for a moment before lowering her hand, "And?" Says the Puppet, awaiting the results.

She turns to look at him, face filled with complexion, "on normal circumstances, they would be brimming with energy by now. And I don't think there was a time where my abilities have failed me. Yet, on them.. something prevents the dendro from entering their body. It's like they're rejecting it."

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●

Reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated! It keeps me motivated 🤗

#fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact #wanderer #sumeru #nahida #please don't hate me #I know I disappeared pls #language barrier #isekai

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fairy-writes · 1 year

Note

hi!! i got a matchup from you a little while back (which I absolutely loved, by the way) and you included a little bit about a video game date with matt (death note) !

i was wondering if you could write this as a one shot if you’re up for it? thank you so much!! <3

LEVELED UP

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Requester: lvsickmelody/jeongyeonsbluehair

Fandom(s): Death Note

Pairing(s): Matt x Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre(s): Just a fluffy video game date :)

Notes: The video game mentioned in this is Castle Crashers cause that’s pretty much the only video game I play.

This might be OOC, but I don’t know much about Matt, so I’m taking some liberties with his character.

__________________________________________________________________________

“Turn left.”

“I don’t want to.”

“No, but I need to go left.”

“Too bad, I want to go right.”

“C’mon, please?”

“No. I want to fight the final boss for this level.”

Matt sighs in exasperation, reluctantly turning his character around to follow your little orange knight, his pink one scurrying to catch up. The room is dark, the two of you illuminated by the light of the television. When you both reach a checkpoint, he pauses to take a swig of his energy drink and a bite of his pizza. You also take a break to check your phone and eat some of the various junk food laid out on the coffee table before Matt starts the game again.

He does when you have your attention on your cellphone, so you all but throw your device to scramble and get your controller.

“No fair! I wasn’t ready!” You complain as he runs ahead and starts fighting one of the midlevel bosses.

“All is fair in love and war, my love.” He teases, and you roll your eyes, pressing buttons to start fighting the ice monster.

The battle doesn’t take that long, especially not with Matt on your side. The two of you tag team the monster, taking turns blasting it with your magic and hitting it with your weapons.

In no time at all, the monster is defeated, and the real fun begins. Fighting for the princess’s hand. The two of you grin at each other before you immediately hit the button to blast Matt with your fire magic. He scrambles and starts hitting buttons and combos in haste.

“I wasn’t ready yet!” He whines, and you offer him a sickeningly sweet smile,

“All is fair in love and war, my love.” You retort, and he rolls his eyes, but a smile is playing at his lips.

You end up winning, but you have a sneaking suspicion it’s because Matt allowed you to succeed. He doesn’t just lose. You scowl at him. While you hate losing, you hate him letting you win even more.

“You let me win, didn’t you?” He looks up from his pizza and his phone, grinning around his mouthful of food. You gag and shove his mouth closed,

“Chew and swallow before you smile at me, you dork.” You chastise him, and he rolls his eyes but swallows nonetheless.

“I didn’t let you win, love. You won fair and square.” He said, and you pushed his shoulder lightly,

“You don’t just lose, Matt.” He swats lightly at your hands and pulls you close instead. You fall into his chest and shriek as he starts to tickle your sides,

“You learned from the best. You won fair and square. Now admit it!” He says as you try to get away. However, he’s stronger than he looks and is relentless. You wiggle and squirm but can’t get away matter what you do.

“Fine! Fine! I won fair and square!” You wheeze, and he finally lets up.

Lips touch yours, and you open your eyes wet with tears of laughter to see Matt pulling away. He grins that smile that makes your stomach do flips, and you offer a small smile in return.

“Love you, babe.” He says, and you pull him down for another kiss,

“Love you too, Matt.”

#death note #death note matt #death note matt x reader #fairy writes

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film-in-my-soul · 2 years

Note

Gaon: “Why would you keep this from me?” (thank you for doing this! your fills are lovely)

(Okay soooo I got nearly 3k into this when I realized you specified for Gaon to being saying the line and I’m just gonna be real, didn’t happen that way TT^TT I’m sorry and I hope you like what I wrote for your prompt anyway. Also not me forgetting that there’s really no good way to end this kind of fic without it being hella trope-heavy and cringe. Apologies for any ooc confessions .-.)

Mature - Non-Explicit - Hanahaki - Happy Ending

Ga-on groans as his lower back hits the entryway table but not from the discomfort of the edge pushing into his spine. Instead, his sounds are from the way Yo-han is slotted against him, large hands, warm and insistent as he rucks up the bottom of Ga-on’s shirt. Yo-han’s fingers stroke the skin of Ga-on’s waist, his mouth a brand on the side of the younger's throat. It makes Ga-on shiver and twists his own fingers into the softness of Yo-han’s hair, urging him impossibly closer.

Yo-han slips a thigh between Ga-on’s legs and it causes Ga-on’s grip to tighten, pulling. The other seems not to mind as it earns him a growl and inspires more fervent attention on whatever skin Yo-han can reach.

They linger in the hall, making out like horny teenagers against the table, until the pressure between their groins, sweet with pleasure but torturous at the same time, gets to be too much. Ga-on is lifted from the ground by his hips. He gasps, the arousal from the act sparking down his spine. It’s ridiculously hot, the way that Yo-han can carry him to the master bedroom like he weighs nothing.

He can’t mentally follow the path to the bed, not with the way Yo-han is squeezing him and pausing any chance he gets to brace Ga-on against a flat surface and steal his breath with more kisses. Eventually, his back does hit the mattress though and Ga-on has a chance to sink back into himself while Yo-han hovers above him, staring down like Ga-on is something to be studied with his eyes and his body.

It’s electrifying, more so when Yo-han’s hands reach for Ga-on’s collar and starts popping each button slowly, one after another, pushing the sides apart, exposing more and more of Ga-on to be stared at.

After his shirt is off and Yo-han is as well, Ga-on turns back into a blur of pleasure and loses himself to the man intent on taking him apart.

Hours later, when Ga-on wakes up, there’s a strong arm around his middle, holding him flush against Yo-han’s similarly naked body and Ga-on’s brain spins so fast, working to compartmentalize this new reality that it makes him dizzy.

They’d dropped Elijah off at her physical therapy, an overnight evaluation, and left with the whole day ahead of them. Yo-han, eager, or as eager as Yo-han could seem, had detoured them to a small market street fifteen minutes from the Kang’s residence.

Ever since Ga-on had landed in Switzerland the both of them had been adamant about not letting him stay inside too much, showing him around the city even when he’d rather just relax in the reading room with Yo-han working and Elijah studying at his side. He’s only in the country for a short break, Elijah growing more instant in her emails that he’d needed to come and see them, or she’d hate him forever.

It had only taken one hesitant conversation with Yo-han, nervous that the older man, who’d only recently been receptive to speaking with him for the plane ticket to be arranged.

Ga-on hadn’t expected it to feel so easy, so right, to slip into their lives again, even if only for a brief few weeks.

Yo-han had dragged him around the stalls, pushing different snacks into his hands and buying things that Ga-on was sure they didn’t need. Yo-han had insisted that Elijah would be able to tell they’d stopped at the market and if they returned empty-handed, she’d likely throw a fit. Ga-on just laughed, able to see it in his mind's eye, and allowed himself to be pulled around for longer, arms laden with their shopping bags since Yo-han had paid.

After an early dinner, dropping their things off at the car, Yo-han had proposed a walk and without Ga-on’s prompting, upon passing a gelato cart, bought a small cup for them both to enjoy as they relaxed.

Ga-on needed to hide his smile into his sleeve and his cough as well. The ice cream helped to ease the slight burn in his throat. It only took a lap around the nearby park from where Yo-han’s SUV was for the sun to start setting and casting everything in a soft glow.

They’d made a final circuit, Ga-on’s ice cream melting, when Yo-han broke the comfortable silence.

“So, how are you finding your forced vacation?” Ga-on laughed and shook his head.

“It’s nice, you and Elijah are spoiling me.” He looked over to Yo-han and remembers feeling his breath catch uncomfortably. Yo-han had already been looking at him, hands in his pockets, soft in his cardigan with his hair loose over his forehead. The remaining sun had made his eyes glow. It was clear by Yo-han’s expression that he’d been fully aware of what he and his niece were doing. Ga-on had felt a tightness in his chest that was equal parts warm and sharp. He choked down a cough by shoving his last spoonful of gelato into his mouth.

Yo-han, apparently amused by the action, rolled his eyes and stopped their walk with a hand on the crook of Ga-on’s elbow. Suddenly alarmed, worried he’s somehow given himself away, Ga-on swallowed.

“What-” the question died in Ga-on’s throat as Yo-han trailed his hand from Ga-on’s arm up to the slide of his face, cupping his cheek. The tightness in Ga-on’s chest was a vice grip that only grew tighter the longer the contact had lingered, and Ga-on wondered if the strain of his body was noticeable as Yo-han swiped his thumb at the corner of Ga-on’s mouth. When he pulled his hand away, Ga-on had to fight the urge to chase after Yo-han’s callused palm and instead focused on the smudge of cream that had been collected from his lips.

“Once a baby deer always a baby deer it seems.” Yo-han was still all soft amusement like he couldn’t tell that Ga-on was on the verge of losing his mind even when Ga-on knew that the older could. Yo-han had always been able to read him, or at the very least he could navigate around Ga-on, keeping him right on the edge of his patience.

Ga-on, chest on fire, pressure in the back of his throat, at that moment, had run out. Then, when Yo-han smirked, so physically close, and brought his thumb up to lick the melted ice cream off like it was nothing, he’d snapped.

Something tickled at the back of Ga-on’s throat and there had been a terrifying second where he thought his secret would expose itself with an uncontrollable cough. He used that fear to justify surging forward and kissing the other man, tasting vanilla when Yo-han’s lips parted to meet him with the same amount of fervor. When they’d parted, Yo-han’s hand was back on his cheek, Ga-on holding on to the front of his cardigan, their foreheads touching.

The drive back home only took ten minutes.

Now, Ga-on is laying in the aftermath of his split-second break in composure. A smile curls onto his lips and he’s just about to sink into the warmth of Yo-han’s body when an uncomfortable pressure builds in the back of his throat. Ga-on tries, clenching his teeth together, to stifle the cough and instead feels himself choke. With a full-body spasm, he forces himself up from the bed, trying his hardest not to stir Yo-han as he moves his arm.

Rushing to the bathroom and locking the door behind himself, Ga-on manages to open the lid of the toilet right as his knees give out. The damned petals and blood spill into the basin with hacking he tries to quiet.

Purple-pink petals matted with blood and saliva hit the water and float, mocking him. Apparently, the pleasure of Yo-han’s attention is no longer strong enough to hold back the truth of Ga-on situation. He is in love. Unrequited and, for them, appropriately deadly.

In the moment, Ga-on had been able to trick himself he supposes, that a kiss had been more than a kiss, that the bruises Ga-on can feel littering his skin were promises, claims. He could pretend that when Yo-han was whispering words into the shell of his ear as he took him apart not hours ago. That he was telling Ga-on he loved him.

More petals force their way up Ga-on’s esophagus, and he tries his hardest not to retch too loudly as the taste of iron coats his tongue.

The first time the petals had shown up was during a facetime call with Elijah. They’d been talking about something silly, a show she shouldn’t have watched but Ga-on knew about, when, like a phantom, Kang Yo-han had passed by in the background.

Ga-on remembers it seeming like time had slowed, eyes immediately tracking the movement, taking in every new thing he could about the other man. Had his hair grown a bit? Was there less tension in his shoulders? He was there and gone before those questions could really be answered.

Elijah had rolled her eyes.

“He’s trying to be casual since he doesn’t know how to act like an adult apparently.”

Ga-on had felt something in the back of his throat and when he’d tried to clear it, assuring Elijah that he understood Yo-han’s hesitance to reopen direct lines of communication with him, he’d ended up getting locked in a coughing fit instead.

He had been able to recognize that Elijah, on the other end of the phone, was still talking, but Ga-on, staring down into his palm, couldn’t make out the words past the static building in his ears. There was a petal in his hand, small and shiny with his spit.

Ga-on had forced the panic down and managed to smile, making some off-handed comment about seasonal cases of flu and forcing the conversation to move on.

After he’d gotten off the phone with the young girl, he’d promptly had a panic attack and then dealt with it. And by dealing with it, he’d mostly gone about pretending there weren’t roots growing in his chest. A month later, when Yo-han had called him out of the blue, Ga-on had spat up not only the water he’d been drinking but a handful of petals as well.

He’d known for sure since then, what was in store. He just hadn’t expected it to develop so fast.

Ga-on splashes water on his face before making sure no evidence of the flowers has remained. There’s nothing he can see and a bit calmer, Ga-on grabs the mouthwash off the side of the counter just as Yo-han knocks on the bathroom door. Feeling his stomach swoop and a cough reflectively try to start up, Ga-on, mouth still full of Listerine, takes a moment to collect himself.

Yo-han leans against the doorframe, sweatpants slung low on his hips, chest bared once Ga-on unlatches the lock and opens the door. He’s glad that Yo-han apparently keeps an endless supply of silk lounge robes around his home, there had been one on the back of the bathroom door and Ga-on had slipped it on. It’s thin but Ga-on is glad to have a bit of modesty even if, with the way Yo-han looks at him, he feels just as naked as before.

“I woke up and you were gone,” Yo-han doesn’t say it as a question, nor a criticism, it’s a fact that demands an explanation. Ga-on spits the mouthwash and is thankful that it’s not pink with blood.

He does his best to smile, even as he can feel a petal stuck in the back of his throat.

“I woke up gross, wanted to take a shower.” There’s only a slight strain to his voice that could be blamed on sleep and his words aren’t completely untrue, he does still feel a lingering stickiness on his skin that sex always leaves.

Yo-han smirks, stalking forward into the bathroom, and Ga-on’s breath catches. He cages Ga-on against the sink, a hand sliding down the open v of the robe, leaving a trail of heat in the wake of the pressure.

“Did I not clean you up well enough?” Yo-han ghosts the words against the shell of Ga-on’s ear and the younger goes weak in the knees, flushing. Yo-han, after he’d thoroughly fucked Ga-on into the mattress, had taken a handful of minutes to carefully wipe him down with a damp towel. Yo-han’s hand continues lower and then under the loosely tied belt holding the robe together. Ga-on’s eyes slip closed as he gasps. “Let me try again, Ga-on-ah…”

They linger for a long time under the shower, clean, dirty, then clean again, until the water grows cold.

Ga-on spends the last week of his time with the Kang’s making them breakfast, playing games, and losing against both of them, while stealing kisses or quick orgasms when he and Yo-han can find the time away from Elijah, and vomiting up sweet pea petals and blood until the silk of the leaf turns into whole bloom and stems. He takes the pain it brings. Ga-on gives himself this half-fulfilled wish, indulging in what can only, at the end of the day, be some perverse summer fling, spurred on by proximity and unresolved tension…

It’s worth the hurt it earns him.

When it gets worse to the point that he almost can’t hide it, Ga-on manages to convince Yo-han that the reason his voice seems so scratched is a cold coming on. He has to make strategic escapes to the restroom in order to spill the evidence of his love down the drain.

As the hours tick down to Ga-on’s departure, the coughing fits get to a level he’s yet to have experienced previously. With Yo-han coming into his space more frequently, kissing his cheek, sliding up behind him to wrap Ga-on in his arms, and whispering words so low that Elijah, as she rolls around with disgust on her face but fondness in her eyes, can’t hear, it only exasperates his condition. The little moments of tenderness twist Ga-on’s heart and take his emotions on a rollercoaster ride that only ends up clogging his throat.

He’s packing his suitcase, double-checking he hasn’t left anything behind or given into the urge to stow away with something that doesn’t belong to him when he hears Yo-han stepping up behind him like he’s done countless times since the morning. Strong arms wrap around his waist, and even though Ga-on feels tension building against his ribs, he relaxes into the embrace. There’s a pair of lips pressing butterfly kisses on the nape of Ga-on’s neck and, raising a hand to rest over Yo-han’s, he lets out a shuddering breath.

They stand together like that for a countless number of minutes, and Ga-on thinks he can manage the flowers desperate to crawl up his throat, that is, until Yo-han shifts a hand to interlock their fingers and presses a kiss behind his ear.

“Stay.”

Ga-on’s entire body freezes.

There’s a beat where Ga-on thinks he might have misheard, but then his stomach rolls and there’s a pain in his lungs so sharp it leaves him gaping.

Mouth open, Ga-on knows there’s no stopping the downpour of flowers that are coming as he starts to heave. He still tries to get away from Yo-han, untangling their fingers and pushing away to get to the guest room's bathroom, the other man hot on his heels, asking what’s wrong as he follows. Ga-on can’t think past the burning in his chest and throat as he doubles over, just short of the toilet.

There’s no running away from the full blooms of sweat pea and primrose that spill over his hands, blood and saliva mixing with them. Ga-on knows that Yo-han registers exactly what they are by the way he goes deathly silent, crouched beside him without touching.

After his knees and the tiled floor are littered with flowers, Ga-on thinks the worst is over until he tries to suck in a deep breath only for his chest to seize and his next exhale is filled with green stems that scrape his insides raw.

Once the episode is over, petals stuck to his lips and chin, tears streaking down his cheeks, Ga-on is shaking and exhausted. There’s a hesitant touch to his shoulder and Ga-on can’t stop himself, even if he knows he should shift away, from swaying into Yo-han’s sturdy chest.

“Ga-on-ah?” Yo-han says his name like a question and it’s a struggle for Ga-on not to sob as Yo-han’s hand rests against his head, carding through his hair.

He gives Ga-on a few moments to calm down, at least until he’s no longer trembling and able to clean his face of petals, blood, and tears. They lapse into uncomfortable silence, Ga-on no longer leaning against the other man, looking down at the evidence of his affliction in shame.

“Why would you keep this from me?” There’s no accusation in the question but Ga-on knows, can see it in the pinch of Yo-han’s mouth when he does look back at the other man that he is mad. Ga-on doesn’t think that the frustration is only directed toward him.

“I…” Ga-on winces at the word grates on his fried vocal cords. “I thought it would be easier.” Yo-han’s expression only sours further.

There’s another lengthy pause, Yo-han clearly collecting himself before sighing deeply. It makes Ga-on feel worse somehow, how resigned the other man seems.

“Is it…” Yo-han doesn’t finish the question but Ga-on can fill in the blank himself, and suddenly it’s not the roots that are sparking heat in his chest but anger.

“It’s not Soo-hyun, how- it’s been almost a year Yo-han,” indignation floods his tone, and given the last few days they’ve spent practically wrapped around each other, there’s disbelief too. Ga-on takes a breath and chokes back a cough, settling himself. “How could it be anyone but you?”

Yo-han seems to deflate and Ga-on doesn’t understand the reaction until Yo-han reaches forward, hesitant in a way that the younger isn’t used to. His palm is warm, and it hurts Ga-on as much as it makes him feel at ease as he presses it against Ga-on’s chest. Ga-on feels another wave of flowers desperate to escape his lungs.

“Then I don’t understand.” Neither does Ga-on, but Yo-han continues, shifting to cup Ga-on’s face with both hands, expression something tragic. Ga-on hasn’t seen him look like this since the night Ga-on had gone to kill him, to betray him for the last time. “Have I not shown you enough, how you mean to me? The place you hold in my life and in my heart? Is it that you can’t believe someone like me could return those sentiments for you or do you need me to say the words for you to understand that you have my affection, my love?”

Ga-on feels like he’s slack-jawed, reaching up to clutch at Yo-han’s hands still on his face, now thumbing away the tears that are falling. Ga-on hiccups on a laugh.

“You’re so dramatic.” His reaction earns a chuckle from Yo-han as well.

“You’re the one dying by floral asphyxiation because you can’t connect the obvious dots and I’m the one who’s being dramatic? Didn’t I train you better than that?” Ga-on can’t help the relieved, almost hysterical laughter that starts, but his body has other ideas and almost immediately the laugh is cut off by a horrible press at the back of his throat.

Ga-on gasps for air and spasm in pain. Yo-han immediately shifts to rub at Ga-on’s back, large palm a welcomed comfort as Ga-on throws up the largest number of flowers and stems yet, the plants dropping heavy into his lap and not easing up. Ga-on cries through the episode. He thinks he hears Yo-han muttering soft and encouraging words to him but over the rush of blood in his ears, he can’t make out more than the tone.

Just when he’s sure that it will go on forever until Ga-on is just a fountain of ruined blooms for the rest of his life, there’s one final, agonizing retch, and it’s not only petals that come up but tangled roots matted with what can only be clots of blood and the remaining flowers that had been trapped inside his body.

Once it’s over and Ga-on finishes spitting up the blood he can’t force himself to swallow, he slumps over for Yo-han to catch, eyes half-lidded.

“See,” Yo-han starts, a worried waver in his voice. “Dramatic.”

Ga-on attempts a half-hearted snort but he’s not sure it has the effect he wants; it hardly matters.

“I hope you know I’m not giving you an option anymore. You’re staying now.” Yo-han is stroking through his hair again and Ga-on nods in agreement.

The roots in his lungs might be gone now, but he’s sure they’ve only been replaced with more permanent, much more desirable ones instead.

Thank you for reading.

MASTERLIST

#gahan #lawful husbands #the devil judge #kim gaon #kang yoohan #dialouge prompt #prompt fill #kdrama fanfic

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advnterccs-archive · 1 year

Note

I don't even know where to start to say why I follow you xD

Tbh, I've seen your blog around, but you seemed like the popular blog™ in the Rick and Morty fandom, so I didn't dare to approach you. You can imagine what a fucking heart attack I had when you followed me xD

I admire your portrayal. You obviously have a deep understanding of your characters (and this goes for this blogs but also for the other ones) and I can appreciate a thoughtful portrayal. Many people just gloss over deep stuff, but instead you embrace and include it and that's what drew me the most towards your blog.

As for why I stayed, there are so many reasons. I can't list them all, because I'll end up writing the Divine Comedy, but I'll stick to the main ones.

I've mentioned, your portrayal is thoughtful, well developed and in-depth for how I see it. You try to dig into all of yours characters' recesses, no matter how ugly, and that's rare.

You're a great writer. I like your writing style and I think it matches mine wonderfulness.

Your headcanons / meta are inspiring. I always pause and think whenever I read them. I don't always agree (even if I do for most part as you know) and that's not something easily found, because I'm really picky when it comes to that stuff, but you always hit the right buttons.

I always have fun interacting with you. No matter of it's a reply, a two-shots or a thread. You never fail to make me smile or catch my interest and, again, that's rare because I'm a picky bitch xD

Last but not least, I admire you as a person. I've explained it one on one and I don't wanna say it publicly like that, but you know why. You're a great friend and not only, and I'll leave it at that. I really care about you 🖤

In any case, keep this all up because you're fucking awesome!!

Please tell me anonymously or not why you follow me. I could use some positive messages || accepting

{ OOC } I don't know what to say to this. I almost don't wanna reply and just keep it in my asks so I can see it always because this just really means a lot to me ;w; especially coming from you. Since I admire you so much and, well, as you know already 💙🖤

I'm seriously speechless and I also might've cried a little reading this (good tears !! promise !!) so I don't know if that's enough to give you my reaction and how I feel reading all of this (also I'm wishing I had the discord emojis fdshjk would make it so easier if i had my little cat emojis)

I would compliment you right back but I'm learning how to just accept compliments. So I'll save my thoughts for another day or I'll end up just telling you them at some point xD since I kind of already do that now and then

But I'm just really glad you enjoy writing with me as much as I enjoy writing with you. I've told you this before but talking to you, even roleplaying with you, always makes my day. My day doesn't feel complete if we haven't (even if it's just a few seconds out of our day or seeing a post be reblogged).

And I'm just really glad you like my headcanons / meta, I know it's really not easy to impress you with stuff like this so it's a huge compliment !!! and i'm just .. ahh .. really glad you think so highly of me !! it's really such an honor and it makes me feel really happy !!

#countlessrealities #{ answers ; 🧪 }#long post tw #{ ;w; i also had to stop writing before i got too sappy on main }#{ because i could've listed all of the things i like about you but ahh trying to accept compliments without deflecting them fdshfkjds }#{ but thank you 💙💙🖤🖤 }#{ i'm so flustered and speechless fdshjfkds }#{ i hope you know this made me smile uwu }#wubba lubba dub dub. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴘᴏꜱᴛꜱ

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bechaeyeon · 1 year

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you probably didn’t think too much when you hit the upload button. of course you were proud and confident enough in what you made to put it out there to the public, but the incredible improbability of becoming the next big thing isn’t something easily ignored. no, chances were that you’d get maybe a couple hundred views and a comment or two if you’re lucky, and you’d be just as obscure as always.

going viral is a combination of luck, gaming the algorithm, and just having good content to begin with. somehow, just this once, you hit the jackpot.

it turns out that an online news publication featured your video in an article about content creation. by some stroke of luck, the author of the article found your video randomly and decided to feature it as quality content that doesn’t get enough attention.. she was generous with her praise, pausing often to explain to her readers why something was done tastefully, little details she noticed that she likes, and comparing your video to others that she watched and reviewed and how yours trumped them in skill and content.

next thing you know, your comments section is filled with messages of “like if you’re here from that article” and “i came here from the article but stayed for this content.” of course, with any popularity, there’s the occasional hater as well. but their comments are quickly flooded and drowned out by new fans who are quick to defend you.

the fame won’t last. even though you gain several new subscribers, it’s just a one-off video that finds so much success. going viral is relatively easy, but riding that wave and using it to create lasting relevancy is much harder. it’s something that no one is prepared for or knows how to react to. and in the blink of an eye, it’s gone. the video will still get a few new comments here and there when people read the article for the first time, but none of your other content gets the same level of attention.

maybe it was fun while it lasted. or maybe you’re just happy to stay under the radar.

OOC:

thank you for redeeming your chance token! your muse now has 1 chance token remaining.

please post this prompt (even without a response) within a week of receiving it. the point changes from the prompt must be applied to your points sheet even if you do not write a response.

INSTRUCTIONS:

respond to this prompt with a solo of any length about the content of the video that was published and/or your muse’s reaction to the reaction.

no form is necessary to submit to the points verification blog, but please publish this submission and link to this post on your points sheet.

please tag this post and your solo (if posted separately) with #be:takeachance.

POINTS RECEIVED:+ 5 RELEVANT PERFORMANCE SKILL (singing, dancing, rapping)+3 REPUTATION

POINTS LOST:NONE

#omg chaeyeon viralisation ii !! her head is so swollen #be:takeachance #solo incominggggg

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beyun · 2 years

Text

take a chance

going viral is a combination of luck, gaming the algorithm, and just having good content to begin with. somehow, just this once, you hit the jackpot.

maybe it was fun while it lasted. or maybe you’re just happy to stay under the radar.

OOC:

thank you for redeeming your chance token! your muse now has 0 chance tokens remaining.

please post this prompt (even without a response) within a week of receiving it. the point changes from the prompt must be applied to your points sheet even if you do not write a response.

INSTRUCTIONS:

respond to this prompt with a solo of any length about the content of the video that was published and/or your muse’s reaction to the reaction.

no form is necessary to submit to the points verification blog, but please publish this submission and link to this post on your points sheet.

please tag this post and your solo (if posted separately) with #be:takeachance.

POINTS RECEIVED: + 5 RELEVANT PERFORMANCE SKILL (singing) +3 REPUTATION

POINTS LOST: NONE

#be:takeachance

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theimmortalkingixii · 4 years

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//On via mobile for right now~ Will be back on by laptop later tonight!

#ooc #not looking forward to this #can i just hit the pause button?#man that storm outside is getting worse

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dibaajimowin-moved-blog · 6 years

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// sorry guys I'm really not feeling too good emotionally/mentally. I think I need a break from tumblr rp. Mutuals are free to ask for my discord. That's a good way to get a hold of me if you just wanna chat, plot or even do some small RPs there. I'd be happy to have people to chat with, I just need to sort some stuff out irl before I really slide back into RP on tumblr. It's a really rough time of the year as I try to transition from winter to spring and I'm so busy and exhausted and overwhelmed with all these different jobs and stuff;; so Tumblr is getting put to the side finally while I put more focus on other parts of my life. I wish the best for all of you though, and I hope you all find your own way through life. I'm rootin' for you! And I look forward to coming back with stronger motivation and inspiration to continue our threads! 💜

#:: ooc ::#i'll be okay #its just... when you've had 2 mental break downs in the last 24 hours... it's probably a good time to hit the pause button #and juat try figure out a new plan because something isnt quite working...#at least i'll try anyway;;

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rozcdust · 3 years

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She’s so mean

Pairing: Kokonoi Hajime x f!reader

Genre: Crack, SMAU, this chapter is angst

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Canon divergent, profanity, ooc, domestic abuse, violence, attempted murder, murder, implied grooming, large age gap relationship, toxic relationship, attempted drowning, the reader is tired and a bitch

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE READ THE WARNINGS. THIS CHAPTER IS JUST Y/N’S BACKSTORY AND SKIPPING IT WILL NOT AFFECT THE REST OF YOUR READING EXPERIENCE TOO MUCH

pt. 1 | previous | pt. 20 | next

��This is fucked up.” Ran let out a frustrated sigh, slamming the police and medical records on the table in front of him.

Kakucho nodded, frowning as he flipped through the crime scene photos, stopping at one that depicted a sink filled with red, murky water.

There were some of the body, some of the scene, some of your face, and even if Kakucho saw that same blank, dead look thousands of times, something about your usually annoyed, tired face being so empty unnerved him.

He sighed as he opened his laptop, digging out a USB stick from his pocket.

“What’s that?” Ran perked up, getting up from his seat to glance over Kakucho’s shoulder.

“Footage. They had video surveillance in the apartment.” Kakucho clicked on the file, waiting for it to load.

“Ohhhh!” Without a thought, Ran pushed Kakucho’s chair back, plopping himself in Kakucho’s lap.

Before Kakucho could push him off, the file opened, and a video started playing.

Holding the forward button, Ran waited until the dim screen showed something other than an empty kitchen.

He let go when you walked on screen, placing groceries on the kitchen counter.

“When was this?” Ran questioned Kakucho, noticing the slight baby fat still sticking to your cheeks.

“2015. She’s 19 here.”

Ran forwarded the video, not too interested in watching you put away groceries and clean the kitchen.

A man walked in on screen just as you were done cleaning the sink, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek, moving away from you to grab something from the fridge.

There was no audio, but Ran could swear he saw you tense up at the man’s touch, face twisting for just a second.

“Zankoku Karo. 31 years old here, son of an oil tycoon, inherited the business.”

“This fucker was 31 dating a 19 year old?”

“By the court records, they started dating when she was 17.”

Ran felt disgusted.

The man was washing his hands in the sink, seemingly listening to you talk intensely.

His face suddenly twisted, the tap still running as he turned towards you, and even if Ran couldn’t see his face, he could tell he was yelling.

You started yelling too, backing away, but Zankoku followed, grabbing you to keep you in place.

Ran watched as you tried to wrestle out of Zankoku’s grasp, flinching when a slap landed on your cheek.

Ran almost cheered when you returned the favour, until Zankoku grabbed you, throwing you to the ground, and Ran flinched as your head hit the corner of the kitchen island, blood starting to drip down the side of your face.

Your foot met Zankoku’s shin as you tried to back away, desperate to get on your feet, your back hitting the kitchen element preventing you from doing so.

Ran had to pause when you were lifted from the floor by the hair, Zankoku’s hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he pushed your head in the now overflowing sink.

Taking a couple of minutes, Ran nodded at Kakucho to continue when he was ready.

The video resumed just as you started thrashing around, your hands desperately scratching at your own neck, trying to get Zankoku to let go.

Ran could feel Kakucho tense under him when the bubbles stopped, and you went limp.

He knew you were alive, you had to be, but the lack of movement made him nervous.

As Zankoku loosened his grip on you, you suddenly jerked up up, managing to get your head out of the sink, pushing him off.

He stumbled, falling, the back of his head hitting the island corner on the way down.

You didn’t move for a few seconds, your eyes wide and focused on the man now bleeding out on the floor.

Ran didn’t know what you were saying before tears started streaming down your face and you slid down on the floor, but he could assume it was Zankoku’s name.

You held your head in your hands, ignoring the still running sink above you drenching your clothes, not moving even when blood coming out of Zankoku’s head reached your feet.

Still sobbing, you crawled up to the body, digging through his pockets to find a phone, backing away into the corned as soon as you did.

Your phone call didn’t last long, and Ran knew it was over when you allowed the phone to drop to the floor, rocking back and forth as you let out a scream.

Kakucho was certain the sight of your face twisted into a silent scream, blood and tears mixing with the water will haunt him forever.

Your body suddenly stilled, face turning blank, and you didn’t move a muscle as you started speaking, and even if Ran couldn’t hear the tape, he could read the phase off of your lips.

‘I’m sorry.’ repeated like a prayer, over and over again.

Kakucho forwarded the tape 20 minutes, letting it play again when a dark-haired man with long hair came into the frame, his eyes wide and panicked.

“Who’s that?”

“Her brother, Baji Keisuke.”

“He looks familiar.”

“He was in Toman with Mikey.”

“Oh, I remember him, he almost died in the Bloody Halloween incident. I was there with Rin.”

Kakucho nodded, observing as Baji pulled his phone out, presumably calling the police.

Keisuke approached you, walking over the body, pulling you to your feet out of the kitchen corner.

You slumped into the his touch as he held you, rocking you back and forth softly like a child, ignoring the fact you were soaking his clothes with blood and water.

The tape ended when a policeman appeared in the frame, pointing his gun towards you.

Ran and Kakucho stared at the black screen for a few minutes, neither of them moving a muscle.

“That poor girl…” Kakucho murmured, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“What do we do?” Ran asked, getting off Kakucho to sit back in his chair, cursing himself when his fingers shook too much to light up a cigarette.

“What do you mean ‘What do we do’? We don’t do shit.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Koko?”

Ran flinched when Kakucho got up from his chair, his hands slamming on his desk as he got into Ran’s face.

“Fucking listen to me. We, don’t have a right to do shit. It’s y/n’s to tell Koko, if she so chooses. For fuck’s sake Ran, they’ve known each other for what, two months, went on one date? Fucking think.”

Ran let out a shaky breath, burying his face into his hands.

“Listen, I know you’ve grown fond of her, she’s a good kid, but we shouldn’t do anything.” Kakucho’s tone softened.

“Kaku, she fucking slammed me on the floor because my fingers brushed against her neck, she looked like a wild animal, what if Koko does something unknowingly and she seriously hurts him?”

“Ran, respectfully, you triggered her, and she only threw you off herself, which props to her for only doing that, if I were in her shoes I would probably bash your face in, and she even was apologetic about it.”

Ran nodded, frowning as he stared at the back of the laptop.

“She was 19.”

Kakucho sympathetically nodded.

“If Koko and her end up together, and I’m sure they will because their date went great, she will never be in that situation again. Koko would never hurt her.”

Ran looked at Kakucho quizzically.

“How do you know it went great?”

“He told me.”

“Oh, did he now?” Ran’s tone was suspicious.

“…I read his diary.”

Taglist (open):

@1818cigarettes @babu-haitani @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @lagrimasdeglitter @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @hana-patata @bontenacious @crybabylisa @spookydraken @rorobaijifuyu @yukihime-mikeys-girl @toobsessedsstuff @sammcaav222 @emilywaters @agoddess-inashell @levistiddies @t04dxm @qualitygiantshoepsychic @chilledraft @bontensbabygirl @brokencoinlocker @somniari-94 @yujibhabie @inumaki-s-onigiri @wakasagurl @sup-zfam @nqctre @chronic-claire-universe @rozewayne2005 @bxnten @graythecoffeebean @hanmascult @sanzuswh0re @yuushs @little-crow @halcyondaisy @st4rryhae @gvancagamer @passionateuchiha @haikyuu-simps-assemble @hecatve @notsodeadgirlwalking @royal-shinigami @marrymemanjiro @frogtits1 @k-y0sh1

a/n: i love 😩 angst 😮‍💨 also tumblr won’t let me edit posts or reply sometimes so i’ll just add a ssm series tag on all posts to make finding parts easier 🤧

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #kokonoi hajime x reader #kokonoi hajime x y/n #bonten #kokonoi hajime #manjiro sano #sanzu haruchiyo #kakucho hitto #ran haitani #rindou haitani #akashi haruchiyo #baji keisuke #ssm series

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angstyx · 3 years

Text

I love you, I really do

CC!Quackity x Reader

Word Count: 820+ words

Summary: The 3 times where Quackity jokingly told you he loved you and the 1 time he meant it

TW: slight cursing

Note: Quackity might sound OOC for some parts since i've never wrote for him before

Requested?: [Yes] [No]

Masterlist // Rules for Requesting

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

The First Time:

Quackity's laughs rang in your ear as you two run away from someone's house. The house was now filled with random animals, some were hidden while others were in plain sight.

You two were on the dream smp to prank a few people. It was your idea to do so. You were bored on the smp and since Quackity was on as well, you decided to ask him to voice chat and if he wanted to prank people and of course he said yes.

"Holy shit y/n, that was hilarious. You have great ideas sometimes." Quackity was still laughing as he talked to you. "Sometimes?!?" You tried to sound offended but failed, laughing seconds after you replied back.

Laughter filled the voice chat as you two discussed what other pranks you should do. Some were funny while others were just plain stupid, nothing less, it made you two laugh until your stomachs hurt and your eyes were teary.

"You are a fucking awesome person y/n and I love you for that," said Quackity, laughing right after he spoke. You felt your face heat up, he was joking right? Did someone tell him about your crush on him? Hopefully not, you weren't ready to confess.

"C'mon y/n!" Quackity's minecraft character ran in-front of you. He crouched and hit you a few times before running away. "Let's go prank some more people!"

You shook your head, trying to get rid of what Quackity said to you. 'C'mon y/n, he didn't mean it when he said he loved you... right?' you thought.

The Second Time:

"C'mon y/n! Pretend to be my significant other!" Quackity was practically begging you to be his partner, wanting to try and prank Tommy since he said that Quackity was lonely as fuck.

"No-way Quackity, I don't thi-" "Why not? I'll be able to say stuff like "Oh I love you so much y/n" to you! I'm sure you'll like that," joked Quackity, not knowing that your heart started beating faster when he said that to you.

"I-I um..." You took a deep breathe. "Fine-" "Great! Let's go and find Tommy! Follow me!" You took a deep breath as your minecraft character followed Quackity's. C'mon y/n, snap out of it, he was joking... again.

The Third Time:

You practically roasted Quackity into cooked meat- atleast that's what karl told you. You and your friends were playing jackbox and Quackity chose the rap battle game, thinking that he was going to beat everyone. In the end, after you were paired up with Quackity, you won. Now everyone was laughing at how good your rap was while Quackity himself was fake crying.

“Mi amor! I thought you were going easy on me!” stated Quackity, sniffing a few times to make it seem like he was actually crying. “I actually loved you and you broke my heart!” He kept on crying after that, ignoring how you didn’t reply. You felt familiar butterflies in your stomach, did you hear him right? Did he say that he loved you again? By now, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Did you want him to be joking? You weren’t sure.

The Fourth Time:

You were tired. After working on your homework for hours, your eyes were drooping and your brain couldn’t think. You already drank some coffee and you knew it wouldn’t be healthy if you drank anymore. You sighed, you should just finish the homework tomorrow morning, it was getting too late for your liking.

Heading towards your bed, you heard your phone ring. Remembering that you left it on your desk, you picked it up and realized it was Quackity. You answered it as you got into bed, "Hey Quackity, need anything?" You yawned, the tiredness already getting to you.

"I was wondering if we could facetime but you sound sleepy so-" "No! Its fine." You cut him off, face heating up when you realized how desperate you sounded. You heard Quackity laugh from your phone, making you smile. "If that's what you want mi amor," he teased.

Hours passed by as you two talked about random topics, mostly about streaming since you two streamed a lot. You yawned again and before you knew it, you fell asleep. Quackity was still talking but stopped when he realized you were asleep. He studied your face, taking notice of how calm you look.

"I-I love you y/n, I really do." He said quietly. He both wished that you heard it and didn't hear at the same time, not knowing how you felt about him. Half asleep, you thought you heard Quackity say I love you to you again. Thinking you were in a dream, you replied back, "I love you too Quackity." Quackity's finger paused on the 'end call' button, did you just say it back? A smile on his face, he finally ended the call. He couldn't wait to confess to you.

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

Taglist: @thenotsohottopic @0-0littlem0-0 @alec-lostboy @bi-narystars @707xn @sakurapartridge @justsomegnomesinatrenchcoat

Send me an ask or dm to be added to my taglist! :)

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tobi-momo · 3 years

Text

You Belong With Me

“What was she so mad about?” Your voice bleeds through his phone as he scribbles on his homework with his number two pencil, sighing at your question. He looks up briefly to his window to see you at your desk across your two properties’ filing the papers for your math class, organizing your work. Your phone is sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes narrowed as you focus on what assignments are what.

“Kei?”

He shakes his head as his mind snaps out of the daze, his golden eyes flicking down to his work. “Uh,” he sighs as he re-grips his pencil, “I teased her a little bit and she got mad,” he finished. You chuckled before covering your mouth with your hand, finally looking up at the man through your clear panes.

“You’re kidding,” you giggle, a smile leading onto Kei’s face while he listens to your voice, although refusing to look up at your face, he shakes his head in a joking dismissal.

“No, I’m not. But we are never mentioning it again.”

“Oh, good luck getting me to keep quiet!” You shout as your back straightens against your desk chair, a smug look playing on your face once the blond male looks up at you.

He stands up, a reciprocating smirk laying on his lips before he says, “You will,” before he takes his phone away from his ear, pressing the “hang up” button and raising his arm to close the drapes. You laugh with satisfaction while you exit his contact, turning on some music and tossing your phone on your bed before cleaning up your area and strumming your fingers like an imaginary guitar.

He opened his curtains expecting to see you sulking while doing your work, only to see you dance like an idiot while you blast your music, your pencils acting as a microphone as you perform your concert in front of your stuffed animals. He could hear the music from across the yard, him identifying it as your shared playlist that you two made a couple years back, the duration over fifteen hours as about three-hundred songs reside. An accidental chuckle escaped him as his eyes rested on your jumping figure for just a couple seconds. It was for entertainment. Yeah. That’s it.

~.~.~.~

Sticking your fabric marker on the construction paper, you write out your message to Kei.

“I love you”. It was a message that would tell him that he deserves the best and nothing less. It was something that you treasured and wanted to share that value with him. Something that told him that he belonged with you.

You hoped that one day you’d be able to give it to him, to tell him how you really feel, to show that you can do a better job than her, but you never got the chance. Carrying the folded slip in your pocket, ready to pull out, his phone rings. As you sit on the bench on the side of the road, you wonder how long it had been since you had seen him really smile. You had made him smile a lot before, even if he doesn’t smile a lot genuinely, there are some times where real happiness seeps through his facade. You like it when that happens, always have. You noticed how much his happiness had reduced over the course of these last few months, though.

He answers the phone very monotone, very uninterested. He sounded obligated while he spoke to his girlfriend, sighing sharply once he hung up.

“What was that about?”

“Just drama. Kind of sick of it at this point.” He sticks his phone in his pocket, looking over to your concerned expression. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he says while rolling his eyes, placing a soft hand on your head and letting it rest. His hand retracted quickly when the sound of his name rings through his ears, his head whipping towards his girlfriend's figure. He readjusts his glasses, sitting straight up and swinging the strap of his school bag over his shoulder before he gets up and sluggishly walks across the street, meeting up with the one he was set to have a date with later. He subtly waved to you prior to turning his head away and continuing his stroll with his date hanging on his arm. You ignore the glare served your way when you wave back to him, forgetting the multiple reasons of why you wanted him away from her so he can enjoy his date. Hopefully.

~.~.~.~

As you stand on the bleachers of Kei’s game, you watch him stride over the court and jump to block the ball, a playful smirk residing on his lips as he sends the ball to the other side. You clap for him, shouting praises his way in hopes he might hear you over everyone else. Especially her. The screaming and unnecessary noise making your ears bleed a bit. You didn’t mean to be irritated by it, but the pulse on your forehead and the grit of your teeth made it painfully obvious you didn’t really like her.

When the end of the game hit, you were overloaded with joy at Kei’s victory. You hurriedly make your way over to him before gripping him tightly in a hug, not caring about the sweat that drips off his body. You could feel his arms flex as he raised his arms to hesitantly reciprocate your actions until his arms completely dropped, his body stiff.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he firmly moved you aside to walk away. Following after him, you let your head peek out from the side of his back, watching it all occur in front of you. “What’s this?”

“What? Nothing, Kei,” she mewls, setting her hands on her boyfriend’s shirt as if she thought he was silly.

“Yeah, we were just, uh, talkin’.” The man before her fibs.

“Not according to what I just saw,” Kei accuses the two with a furrowed brow, fed up. You come out from behind him, glaring at his girlfriend in hate. This was it.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” the man dismisses, turning to keep the conversation with her going.

Stepping forward, you place an arm in front of Kei, stopping his movements as you eye his girlfriend. “Tell me you were not just flirting with this man and we’ll leave.”

“I wasn-”

“Don't,” you pause, taking a deep breath as you watch her take a step back, “don’t lie to me, or you will regret it,” you threaten, a sharp glint in your eye telling her that you are oh so serious about this. Behind you, Kei watches as you make his girlfriend stammer on her words, a subconscious smile leaking on his face.

She stomps away with anger, the man beside her moving away as well, scoffing.

~.~.~.~

He didn’t say much on the way home; you trailed behind him as he walked away in part anger and denial. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you go back and find the girl and beat some sense into her? Should you give some words of the wise to Kei? Would he even take it?

As you watch him slow down to match your pace, you grow confused. You were headed to your place, so why was he suddenly following? “Kei?” He hums in response, his head hanging low. “Would you like to stay at my place? I can make coffee and we can stay up shit-talking our least favorite people,” you giggle and softly bump into his side, a stifled chuckle escaping him.

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an obvious smile as he continues to walk with you. When you quietly shut the door and take your shoes off, you softly tread to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine- the man that you took home followed, his arm planting on the marble counter as his eyes trail over your moving figure.

As you sit on the stool next to him beside your kitchen island, you converse about the drama he’s been scooped in, him rolling his eyes twice a minute and his irritation level going off the charts as he recalls the events. He hated it, you could tell. He made it pretty obvious he wasn’t happy about it, too.

“Are you still going to the dance with her tomorrow then?” You speak curiously, twirling your fingers around each other while staring blankly into the marble as you awkwardly sit there, awaiting an answer.

It takes him a second to respond, a long sigh and a deep thought coming into play in his mind once he looks over to your spaced expression. Does he really want to go? Did he want to go with her, or with someone else- you? “Probably.”

Oh. “Are you sure you wanna do that? After what happened today?”

“Why not. Nothing better to do,” he justifies, shrugging. Yeah, you probably should have seen that coming.

The note that resided in your pocket seemed to crumple a little bit when you came to terms with the fact that he may never notice you the way you wanted him to.

~.~.~.~

“Are you going?” Kei asks over his phone as he takes his suit out of his closet.

“Ah, no,” you breathe out as guilt pools in your stomach, your elbow balancing sitting on your desk while dozing off into something that is not mathematical equations.

“Oh,” is all he says before telling you he needed to get ready, giving his goodbye.

After the call ends, you see the light fading away from his room as he closes the drapes, giving you a sign to start working again. You wondered what would happen if you possibly showed up. You originally were going to go, but the date that canceled soon beforehand gave your mind a gentle squeeze, telling you that the dance wasn’t for you. Still, the tiniest urge told you to make an appearance. You groan in waver, giving in.

~.~.~.~

You felt good. You felt really good. Wearing your planned outfit to this dance, you make your way inside carefully, minding the crowd. You catch the eye of the one girl that you held a grudge against, watching her grope another man on the dance floor. You roll your eyes in disgust as you move your head around to find a tall blond in the crowd. He leaned against the wall across from you his arms crossed while his dilated pupils trace the light that bounces off the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him, his attention whipping to you as he raises his head.

“Hi,” he reluctantly answers you while standing straight up, a relieved smirk leading onto his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t want to put my outfit to waste,” you smile, spreading your arms to show your attire.

“Yeah, well you came at perfect timing,” he points towards his girlfriend which you identified earlier, although he seemed like he didn’t care all that much.

Gripping the folded paper in your pocket, you slip it out with two fingers confidently. “I have something to tell you,” you admit, your eyes staying centered on his black suit.

“Go on,” he eggs, hands staying at the side of his body while he watches you fluster yourself. It takes you less than a second to shove the note in his stomach and turn around, your face turning hotter and hotter every moment. Your hands lay against your cheeks as your nerves rattle beneath your skin, your ears tingling when you hear a sweet chuckle glide against his lips. “You should have told me a long time ago, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to deal with,” his eyebrows turn up as his head tips towards the dancing figure just a couple of feet away from you guys, “...that.”

You turn around slowly, disbelief covering your face when you look at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me this,” you gesture at the both of you with your pointer finger, “could have been something a long time ago?”

He sucks in through his teeth, taking a grip on your arm and pulling you with him as he walks through the crowd to the middle of the room. “Yep. Guess you missed out.”

“Says you,” you roll your eyes with attitude as you pick up your pace and place your hand in his.

He knew he belonged with you, he was just wondering when you would admit that.

aaa here it is! three days of work! sry i havent been posting lately ive been working <3 (reupload bc tumblrs a little bitch)

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are VERY appreciated!

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