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aetherdoesthings · 1 day

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hanahaki!reader x arlecchino part 2

forethoughts: i'm aetherdoesthings, of course i don't stick to my schedule. anyways, apologies if the timing of this fic seems wonky. i had specific scenarios in my head when i was planning this, with each stage of filming, which i have no clue about because that is not the path i took, so yeah :]. enjoy early upload!

notes: alocohol mentioned!!! drinking is in this!!! reader does drink!! don't be like reader this was just for plot drink responsibly guys!!! modern setting, arlecchino and reader are actresses, fem!reader, hanahaki au

“So, how’s everything? Still coughing up a storm?” You choked on your coffee when you heard that familiar voice, echoing in your head like a broken stereo.

“I guess you still are. Wow, an entire year?” Arlecchino chuckled, pressing a few buttons on the coffee machine. “So what did the doctor say? Just a cough? Cold? Colds don’t last for a year. Doesn’t look like a fever.”

“R-Right, u-um, just a cough. Y-Yeah.” You nodded your head, mustering up a smile.

Damn it, Y/N, you’re an actress. Act. You scolded yourself on your performance.

“Alright then.” Arlecchino gazed at your smile, one finding its way onto hers. “I hope you’ll be okay; tomorrow is all about shooting promotion videos and the day after traveling from studio to studio to do interviews.”

Your face instantly paled at Arlecchino’s words. Shit. Promo week. No rest, non stop smiling, repeating the same phrase over and over again on different networks and platforms. The worst part was that Arlecchino was right by your side the entire time during the shoot, acting all lovey dovey towards you to sell to the audience that the two of you were playing a pair of couples. Then again, you would be lying if you said you weren’t excited to read comments after comments of netizens shipping the two of you together. Your heart fluttered at the thought, the child inside you kicking their feet in the air as you held back a grin. Well, you held the grin back, but not the cough.

Your left hand shot up to your mouth, your body already letting the cough take place, letting the petal travel up your esophagus and into your palm. You didn’t like how your body was already used to the feeling of having a part of a flower regurgitate out of you, muscles immediately jumping into action and making way for the disease in your lungs. Your stomach churned as Arlecchino rubbed her hand on your back, trying to comfort you and make you feel better.

“Oh, Y/N…” Arlecchino’s hand took the hand that was on your mouth, holding it in hers as she made you look at her. It took every single willpower inside you to not blush or let any sort of heat course through your body, biting down a whine as her fingers found its way to your chin. Your bones turned into toothpicks, joints threatening to disappear.

“Are you sure you are going to be alright? You don’t need to power through all those interviews if you physically cannot-”

“I can.” A surge of stubbornness and pride overpowered your senses. Arlecchino didn’t know you were in love with her, and Arlecchino certainly did not need to know you were in love with her, and that you were a weak little coward that let a disease run your life.

“I can.” You repeated yourself, nodding your head. “I’ll power through. I promise.”

You felt like you were telling yourself that more than you were telling Arlecchino.

Arlecchino stared at you, those crimson eyes giving you no clue into what she felt. Arlecchino pursed her lips, before removing herself from you. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.”

And just like that, Arlecchino left the room, her hands leaving your body. You let out a gasp at the missing touch, confused and baffled by her actions, cheeks flaring red at her nickname for you. All alarms in your brain all went off at once, your stomach doing a backflip and your vertical toothpicks turning horizontal. You looked at your left hand, noticing the empty palm. That’s strange. A flower petal was always there after your skin turned red and you got lightheaded. Your mind flashed back to Arlecchino’s hand around yours, how you thought her act of intertwining your fingers was supposed to be an effort to comfort you.

Oh, how naïve you were.

Arlecchino had the petal.

Arlecchino knew.

Arlecchino was going to have the evidence she needed to confirm her suspicions.

How would she even know-

You always coughed whenever she got close or when you talked to her, you idiot, and she’s a fucking genius, so she’ll piece everything together! Your brain quarreled with each other, your body leaving the room as you stood there like a soldier made of stone, palm open and empty.

Maybe there wasn’t a petal this time. One side argued.

There always is one.

But maybe there wasn’t.

You leaned onto that sentence, clinging onto it as if it was your lifeline. Maybe there wasn’t a petal this time when you coughed. Maybe it really was just a cough. It wasn’t a cough from your stupid crush on the beautiful, intelligent-

She definitely knows.

You stared at the bread knife on the table, stabbed into a piece of baguette. If only that baguette was your heart, perhaps you wouldn’t have to deal with the constant yes or no that battled in your head, no side willing to raise the white flag yet.

This was Arlecchino. Hollywood star with a hundred million followers. Everybody knew her name. No haters, no drama, just an absolute queen living among peasants. And… you were one of those peasants.

As if Arlecchino would ever love you back.

As if Arlecchino would ever want to spend time with you, a total D tier so-called actress.

But maybe there wasn’t a petal this time.

Maybe. How that word was able to make hope fill your heart and shatter it into tiny pieces.

Furina was giving a speech. You were amongst the crowd of both cast and crew, a glass of wine in your damp grip. Your finger drummed against your pants, waiting for her monologue to end so you could ditch the party.

Somehow, you managed to survive through the whole filming process, despite having to cough up petals every day. Yes, people turned their eyes towards you, then towards the other normal people to talk about the freak you were. Coughing and disrupting every other scene where Arlecchino’s character had to be in close proximity with you. The minute Furina ended her speech, you snatched a full bottle of wine from one of the serves, disappearing into the blank hallways before anyone could start a conservation with you. You ducked into a nearby broom closet, the walls managing to drown out most of the sound of laughter and conversations. You closed the door behind you, sinking down to your knees as a sigh of relief passed through your lips instead of a petal. With the bottle of wine already opened, you wrapped your lips around the front, chugging all the wine down your throat, hoping that’ll be enough to make you forget your situation, even better end your predicament for you. If the disease wasn’t going to kill you, alcohol will. And you were a much bigger fan of the latter.

The noise did not die down for the rest of your time you spent in the closet, your head resting against the wood. Maybe no one will find you here, and leave you here to rot. Yeah. No one paid attention to you, even though you were supposed to be the co-star of the movie. After all, it was Arlecchino you were working with. Arlecchino. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted a picture with her. You? You were just there to hold her bags. That was all you were worth.

“Oh, Arlecchino.” You laughed into the darkness, head rolling against the door. “Why must you be like this?”

You despised the feeling of helplessness and dependency on another person.

You never intended to fall in love with Arlecchino. The constant need to see her and hear her voice was never desired.

And now there was a damn disease you were plagued with that forced you to confront something you wish never existed.

There were two options to get rid of hanahaki forever. Either you confess your love to Arlecchino and she says yes, or you confess your love to Arlecchino and get rejected.

“Like she’ll ever love me back.” You laughed, bringing the glass to your mouth, even though it was empty.

Suddenly, the door swung open, causing you to fall onto the wooden ground, drunken eyes readjusting to the harsh lights, a crimson and white figure partially blocking your sight.

“Hmn. So this is what people stricken by hanahaki is like? They drink themselves out of their misery and hide in a broom closet?” Arlecchino’s voice echoed in your head, that signature snarkiness and mockery in her voice. Though there was a tint of warmth and concern in her voice as well, or maybe you were just hallucinating again.

Yep, you’re done for.

#genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino genshin #the knave #aetherwrites #hanahaki #hanahaki disease

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chattahoochiecoochie · 1 year

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Drunk In Tampa Bay

Summary: After hours travel can be a headache, especially when you’re drunk.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Drinking / Predatory Male Figure / Implied Dub Con ?

A/N: A little variety goodie bag from yours truly. A little protectiveness, a little PDA, a little drunken something. I saw someone say something the other day about writing to serve a demand. Couldn’t be me. This is for me.

“Y’all wait here. I’m gonna go get the cars.” Joe had a hand on your back, head on a swivel as he looked around for the valet stand that seemed to have up and left while y’all had been inside. “Where the hell is Ja’Marr?”

“Don’t look now, but Sammy’s gone too.” Your friend was slurring, clinging to the other side of you for dear life.

“What—Sam?”

“Saaaam!” She squealed, tugging on your arm as the three of you scanned the growing crowd. The brunette was nowhere to be found.

You looked at Joe, shrugging underneath the weight of your friend. He seemed uncertain, vague worry passing over his eyes. The valet was sure to be a disaster, and now you were short two people. He looked at you for a moment, frowning slightly before looking out over the crowd again.

“I’m gonna take her to the door, we’ll wait there for the boys. Go get the car.” Sliding out of his grip, you towed Sarah behind you. “We’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” His hand was out, grazing you as you walked back toward the front of the club.

“Promise!” Waving, you shied from his grasp and slipped into the mass of people.

Sarah was heavy on your arm, dragging behind you as her heels caught the pavement with every other step. She was blitzed, completely gone. You weren’t even sure how it had happened. You’d been drinking sure, and Joe just kept putting a hand up for the waiter, like he always did. But even still, you weren’t nearly as far gone. She’d gone soft since your college days, and you kicked yourself for not having noticed sooner.

Nails digging into your arm, she tripped alongside you, collapsing onto a stone pillar as you finally pushed beyond the crowd to the club's front door. It was a madhouse, people filing out onto the street in a mad dash for the next available Uber. Thank god Joe had gotten a rental, you thought, watching as a flash of white screens walked by, people groaning and whining as the wait times kept climbing.

“Do you want to sit?” You asked. Sarah was leaning hard, one hand on the pillar, the other wrapped tight around your bicep.

“Mmfine.” She slurred, shaking her head slowly, chin dropped. Jesus Christ, she was fucked.

If she wasn’t gonna sit, the best you could do was sidle up next to her and give her a corner to fall back on. Shifting your weight against her, you pressed your back to the pillar and pulled her into your side. With an arm around her back, you pressed a hand to her abdomen and let her head fall on your shoulder.

She wanted to go to a local gym tomorrow, see some people she knew from her days before the Bengals, she’d said. That was definitely not happening. You smiled softly at the thought, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she groaned loudly into the side of your neck. Even with her chin pointed to the ground, you could smell the alcohol coming off her breath.

As the minutes passed without the boys coming into view, and Joe somewhere near the street, hopefully closer to getting the cars, Sarah dipped further out of reality. She was drooling a little, head so heavy you figured she must be half asleep. You were wiping a thumb across her mouth when someone appeared beside you. Thank god, you thought, where the hell had—

“Your friend okay?” An unfamiliar voice filled the space next to you, and when you looked up, neither of the boys you’d come with was looking at you. Instead, a short, young blond man was staring at you, gesturing to Sarah.

“Just a little too much to drink.” You smiled, hugging her tighter.

“You guys got a way to get home?” He paused for a moment, pointing to something off in the distance. “Cause—”

“—We’re good.” You tried to sound chipper, suddenly very aware that he was not being genuine. It was funny how that happened, kindness turning into creepy in the blink of an eye or a single word. Tripping over your friend, you stepped away from him, trying to put more distance between the two of you. He followed.

“You shouldn’t be alone out here, with her so fucked up.” He put a hand out, barely missing you as you ducked back. “I could—”

“You could what, big man?” There he was. The nerves in your stomach pooled almost instantly. Behind the stranger, Sam had appeared seemingly out of thin air. He was looming, placing a large hand on the man’s shoulder before pulling him away from you.

“I was just…” The man trailed off, failing to come up with an adequate answer. His eyes had gone wide, color drained from his face at the sight of Sam behind him.

“Thinking you’d bother two pretty girls, standing all alone?” Sam looked dangerous behind him, eyes dark, trademark smirk replaced by something more sinister. You felt small, looking at him. The feeling of safety you felt with him seemed to run deeper, snagging in the pit of your stomach. He was in control, like always.

“I…” The man fell short of himself again, voice small. Sam’s hand crept back on his shoulder until his fingers were on the man's shirt collar, fabric held tight in his fist.

“Fucking creep.” In an instant, the man was yanked backward by the collar. Too powerful for his own good, Sam overshot, sending the man flying when he released his hold on the guy's shirt.

“Sam!” You yelped. Drawn from her stupor by the sound of you, Sarah roused herself beside you.

“Sammy!”

“He didn’t try anything, did he?” He was on you in a blink, arms around you, worried eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, letting your eyes shut when he put a hand on the back of your head, pressing you against his chest. Good, he murmured, letting the word get lost as he kissed the crown of your head. He was warm, heart racing.

“Joey still working on the cars?” Behind you, Ja’Marr was walking up, hands shoved deep in his pockets. You laughed weakly, burrowing your face in Sam’s chest as the humor of the moment hit you. He looked as casual as ever—blissfully unaware of the drama he’d just missed.

It occurred to you that the scene he had stumbled upon might be just as bewildering—Sam with his arms around you, kissing your head, and Sarah holding your hand and twirling around in a drunken daze. You laughed again.

It wasn’t like you were keeping a secret out right. Hell, Sam had pulled you into his lap by the third round, rough housing with you as the liquor kept flowing. Worse than that, Joey had been anything but inconspicuous, hands wandering, lip pulled between his teeth every time your dress rode up. Sarah had her suspicions—you knew before she’d confessed in the ladies room.

But if Ja’Marr thought anything of it then, he hadn’t said, and he didn’t seem bothered by it now. Walking up to the three of you, he grabbed Sarah’s outstretched hand, and started dragging the three of you along as he headed for the curb in search of Joe.

The four of you saw him before he saw you, though not for lack of trying—he was stuck up at the front of the valet line, leaning against one of two blacked SUVs, eyes searching the sea of people. Dragging Sam’s hand up with yours, you waved at him.

“Joey!”

“Finally!” Following the sound of his name, he turned towards you, grinning. “Thought I was gonna have to come looking for you.”

“The girls got caught up.”

Releasing your hold on Sarah and Sam, you walk straight into Joe’s outstretched arms, blushing when he kisses your head. “Caught up?”

“Some guy.” Sam says, shrugging off the worry. He’d handled it. You nod along with him when Joe gives you another look, brow raised.

“All good, promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, you can tell, but his trust in Sam is implicit. Letting the subject drop, he hugs you to his chest and reaches into his pocket, producing the car keys after a short struggle.

“In that case, y’all ready?” He tosses the first set to Ja’Marr, flinging the second at Sam without warning.

“Sarah who you riding with?” She’s sobered some since falling asleep on your shoulder, but only just. Twirling in lazy circles around Ja’Marr, her head picks up at the sound of her name, but it's obvious she hasn’t heard the question. Sam tries again.

“Can I have McDonalds?”

There's a look between the three men standing with you, and it’s Ja’Marr who shrugs first. He takes her back by the wrist, guiding her toward the closest SUV's front seat.

“Some of the guys are at the waffle house. You want waffles?” She shrieks in response, clamoring into the carseat without further question. Shaking his head softly, he puts his knee out, guiding her legs into the cab before shutting the door on her. “We’re getting waffles. I’ll see y’all back at the hotel?”

“We’ll see you.”

He leaves the three of you where you're standing, skipping around to the drivers sides with heavy steps. From her window, Sarah is staring at you, leaning against the glass. She’s got a funny look on her face, shaking when a drunk giggle passes over her. Pointing with a limp hand, she gestures between you and Joe, and then to Sam, narrowing her eyes. If she remembers anything tomorrow, you’ll tell her the truth—but something tells you she won’t.

Beside you, Sam is waving at her, grinning. “How much you wanna bet they don’t make it to waffles?”

“Ain’t no way. She’ll be out cold by the time they hit that first light.” Joe laughs, waving too when the car finally pulls from the curb. “I thought you gym rats were good with liquor?”

He’s got a hand on yours, the other reaching for the passenger door of the second SUV, a spark in his eye when he helps you up into the seat. “Supposed to be.” You say, knowing damn well that without the responsibility of watching Sarah to sober you, you’ll be back to feeling your own buzz in no time.

It comes on quicker than you think it will, turning the city lights outside the car into a messy blur. Tampa’s still alive, even this late. There are people on the sidewalks, making the drunk walk back to wherever they’d come from, and cars with the windows rolled down on either side of you at every stop light.

There's an energy in the air, a sense of lightheartedness that only comes at times like this, in the early morning, when you’ve had too much to drink. You blush to yourself, feeling sweet about the fact that you get to share it with the two of them. Hanging onto Sam’s arm, you lean over the console, looking back at Joe with a lazy smile on your face. He looks particularly pretty tonight, blue eyes all sparkly, a loose curl hanging above his brow. You blush, eyelashes fluttering.

Hand out, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, letting his thumb stroke over your cheek. “Feeling it now, huh?”

You nod, head rolling against his hand. Your chest is warm, like the sun is resting on it. When he kisses you, your eyes are already closed, and you hum against him, smiling. He’s gentle, mouth soft on yours. The feeling makes you shiver, and for a second you wish he’d kiss you harder.

Before he can, there's a shift in the car. It’s stopped, and the lights around you are brighter suddenly. Pouting, you watch him pull away from you, sliding out of his seat when a hotel valet opens his door. Next to you, Sam is leaving too, handing off the keys to another teenage kid.

“Come on, babygirl.” Your door has opened, and Joe’s back at your side, taking you by the hands as you climb out, catching you as you fallinto his arms when your feet hit the ground.

Somewhere nearby, Sam is giving money to one of the valets—a lot by the looks of it. Beside you, Joe’s got you pulled against his chest, holding you upright as he leads you into the hotel lobby. You're twitchy next to him, despite a half sober effort not to be.

It's the buzz and the way he’d pulled away from you in the car. You look around for Sam, feeling the way Sarah must have felt about that damn Mcdonald's. Where is someone who will give you what you want? The thought makes you feel guilty, and you whine, nuzzling his bicep with your nose. He’s so sweet and you like that, you love it, but you feel so, so warm.

“What floor?”

“Seventh.” Sams's voice comes from behind, and you look backwards to catch him following you into the elevator.

Reaching a hand out to him, you grab at his shirt, tugging on him. He lets you pull him, smirking at Joe when you wrap your arm around him, putting yourself squarely between them. He’s too tall to reach normally, but you're in those damn heels Sarah lent you, and you can almost reach him.

Your lips find his neck, teeth dragging across his skin. He’s hot to the touch, and sweet lord, he smells good. The response you get is enough, for now. A hand slides over your cheek, cupping the side of your face, pulling you closer, and another skims your abdomen, snagging on the fabric of your dress. Someone laughs, and you whine at the sound, desperate to be taken seriously.

“You leave her hanging Joey?”

“You drive too fast.” He sounds cute, bashful. You feel for him blind, fingers outstretched for any bit of him you can grab onto. It crosses your mind that you might be a lot drunker than you realize. Oh well.

“Oh is that right.” Sam chuckles, leading the three of you out into a dimly lit hall when the elevator suddenly opens behind him. “Better hurry up then, so we can finish what you started,”

You giggle at the implication, skipping next to him, feeling dizzy as another rush of heat rolls through you. So delighted by the prospect, you miss what happens between them entirely, oblivious to the unspoken thought shared between them as you finally stumble up to Sam’s room.

“You got a key?”

“Is this my room?” Joe wraps an arm over your shoulder, kissing the reply into your neck, letting the tip of his nose find that soft spot beneath your ear. The sensation makes you shiver against him, and a whimper rolls on your tongue.

“Very cute, smart guy.” It takes several long seconds, but finally he’s got the passkey out of his wallet and over the receiver and door handle in a single fluid motion, backing through the door with a faint frown.

“You think I’m cute?” Joe pushes you over the doorway into Sam’s arms, spanking you gently on the ass as you skip in front of him.

“’S’what I said, isn’t it?” He’s stopped just short of the bed, hands on your waist. Looking up at him you can see the smirk curling on his lip, and when Joe kisses it off him a moment later, you think for a second you might die.

On either side of you, just how they always are, they’ve got you pinned. Four hands on your waist, fingertips digging deep, threatening to tear the silk of your dress. They’re heavy around you, on each other. For a moment, you’re forgotten, just something for them to anchor on—not that you mind. You’ll get your turn soon enough.

#yes hoochie very nice #i may or may not have made an au to go with this #i was inebriated and cannot be held responsible for my actions #chattahoochiecoochie writes #boyfriends!#sam hubbard #joe burrow #joe burrow x sam hubbard #joe burrow x reader #sam hubbard x reader #bengals smut #nfl fic #nfl smut #joe burrow fic #sam hubbard fic

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