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ja3yun · 22 days

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To, Future You | S.JY

sim jaeyun x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk! wc: 16.1k synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later. a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm

Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.

The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.

Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.

He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.

Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.

However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.

Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.

So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.

Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.

Hi, Y/N.

How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.

Anyway, hi again!

I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.

Is that too harsh?

Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.

I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.

I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.

Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)

I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.

I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.

This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:

I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.

Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.

~ Your secret admirer.

LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P

~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)

You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.

How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.

Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.

And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.

In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it.

However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...

Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.

Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.

Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.

There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.

As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.

There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message.

Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.

Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.

You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.

"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"

You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.

But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.

Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :)

You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.

_____

Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.

It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.

You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.

The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life.

Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?

The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.

As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.

You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.

His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-

*ping*

Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga. The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.

Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home!

It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.

I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.

Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you.

His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."

While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.

Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.

You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it!

With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.

Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅

In all honesty, you might need one as well.

_____

Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.

It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.

As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?

The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.

“Y/N?”

Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.

"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”

He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”

Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”

You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.

He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face.

It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.

Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.

Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.

"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.

"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.

The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.

But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.

His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.

He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”

“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.

What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.

You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.

Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.

As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.

You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.

The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.

Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat.

Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.

“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”

As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.

“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”

Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”

You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.

Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”

“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.

You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.

Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”

“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”

Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.

You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."

“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show.

Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.

So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.

“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.

“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.

You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.

He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t.

“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.

“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.

But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.

It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.

Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.

“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.

This damn letter.

“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.

Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.

Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.

“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.

Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.

You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.

You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.

“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.

"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.

Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.

Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"

You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.

There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.

You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.

Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.

A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."

You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.

Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."

Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.

Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."

You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.

"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"

The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.

Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.

"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."

His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.

"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.

Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.

His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.

"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."

Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.

Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret.

“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”

_____

For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.

As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.

Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.

"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.

Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.

The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.

"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.

Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.

As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”

“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.

You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.

Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.

Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.

Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.

You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.

He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.

Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.

Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."

His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.

You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.

As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.

Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.

You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.

While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.

Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”

Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.

But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."

The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.

As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.

As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world.

You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.

Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”

“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands.

Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.

You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.

You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.

“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.

You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.

Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.

“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.

“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.

Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”

Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.

“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.

Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”

He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.

But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.

You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.

“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”

His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.

“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”

His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.

With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.

“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”

You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.

Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”

His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.

Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.

But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.

You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.

So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.

He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.

As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.

Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.

His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.

Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.

The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.

His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.

Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.

Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.

You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are.

Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.

One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.

You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.

His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.

“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.

You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.

“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.

Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.

Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.

You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.

As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.

For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.

Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.

You’re never going to be able to let him go.

Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.

Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions.

"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”

His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.

Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.

As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.

Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.

His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.

The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.

With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.

“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”

Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.

Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.

It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.

Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.

You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.

“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.

“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,

“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”

His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.

Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.

Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.

Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.

Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.

Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.

However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.

Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.

So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely.

Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully.

"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”

You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.

Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.

“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.

As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.

The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.

"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.

Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.

Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.

The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.

Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.

“That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” Jaeyun whispers earnestly.

As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.

You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.

Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.

"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.

With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.

He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”

The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.

Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.

However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.

“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.

Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.

"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."

The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.

"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.

Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.

Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.

For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.

"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.

Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.

"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.

For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.

"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."

You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly.

Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”

You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."

“Then tell me you’re happy.”

Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.

“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.

“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.

“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening, “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”

Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.

You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.

"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."

"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism.

How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?

With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”

You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.

There is nothing holding you back except yourself.

With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”

Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.

"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”

The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 7 months

Text

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #lauryn hill #fugees #damon albarn #blur #90s music #tournament

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vampiresbloodx · 2 months

Text

Older!librarian!Wanda finally takes you out on a date after being too nervous and having that doubt that you don't actually even like her the way she thought you did, you two talk all the time whenever Wanda has a break on her shift, it's her favourite part of the day, just seeing you, smiling and laughing.

She was right about you being in college. It seems you're in your last year and still have no clue on what to do with your future. Wanda can see how much stress you're in with the finals coming up, it pains her to see you like this. She'd give you the whole universe if she could.

She doesn't know why she's so interested in you, these feelings are definitely not like anything she's already experienced. She was slightly confused herself, what she actually feels towards you, but what she does know is that it's love.

Wanda wants to hold you close to her, kiss you, make you happy, make you laugh, cry, and smile. She wants to see all of it. All of you. Every inch of you.

Maybe she's been reading too many romance books and sapphic fiction.

She just wants to wake up next to you, go to sleep with you every night.

And of course, there are other sinful things she wants to do that she finds herself thinking of when she's at work, in the shower, at home, it doesn't matter where, god, the sound of your voice, the way you look at her, ignites a flame inside her that she didn't know was even there.

Wanda grew up in a pretty Christian neighbourhood. It sucked. She was so used to tradition, how everything should be, not how she feels it should be.

Then you changed her mind on it all.

With one smile.

Wanda hasn't been on a date since.... Forever. Hell she doesn't even know who it was with. It probably was pretty bad then. She has been getting used to her phone so she can text you more and call you, just to hear you speak, when she asks you out, she was expecting a humiliating rejection, but when you smiled up at her, adorably so, you accepted.

"pick me up at 8?"

You said to her.

She nodded.

"see you then."

She watches you walk away, releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding in.

Her hands were shaking, her heart hammering in her chest.

She felt like she was in highschool again.

Wanda had rushed home after her shift ended and she closed up the library for the night, she was panicking, unsure of what to wear and if she should bring wine or flowers, Wanda decided on both, and chocolate, but what if you were allergic? Dark chocolate. Or just roses.

She wore her best dress that made her feel young again, did her make up, and she felt good.

It was time to pick you up, she drove to your address that you had given her, it was a nice little apartment building she parked outside of and went to the door, pressing on the number of the button you told her to do.

"hello?"

There came your voice.

"hi, it's Wanda."

"oh hey! I'll be right down."

When she saw you, her mouth gaped open, her eyes widened, she felt so lucky, you looked gorgeous, you shy away from her gaze as she eyes you up and down, she steps closer, grabbing your hands as she kisses your knuckles.

A shiver went down your spine when you felt her lips, wanting to kiss her immediately.

"you look stunning."

Your cheeks burned.

"uh... Um, you look really beautiful too. Like really beautiful."

It was her turn to blush.

You chuckled, leaning in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, her face practically turning red.

God you don't know what you're doing to her.

She took you out to a fancy restaurant, she saw your reaction and how surprised you looked, she chuckled, enjoying the way your eyes wondered all over the place.

"ms. Maximoff?" A guy at the counter greeted her, she nodded, smiling at him.

"your table is ready" he guided the two of you to a nice private era, with a candle lit.

Once he left you spoke up.

"damn, I was not expecting this. No one has ever taken me out to a restaurant!" You gushed.

She grinned, "how come? Anyone would feel lucky enough to show you off."

You bit down on your lip.

"keep flirting with me like that we won't even last till dinner."

She laughed, shaking her head.

The dinner went perfectly, and for a surprise, she took you back to the library, where you two first met, in that same spot.

"are we allowed to be here?" You asked in a whisper.

"hon, I practically run it."

"I know but what if we get caught!" You said, standing close to her.

"we won't" she says, unlocking the door.

You both entered as she locked the door from behind so no one else could get in, you two laughing as she brought you to the same spot she first saw you, you got quiet as you remembered it exactly, she smiled, caressing your cheek with her hand as she pressing her body against yours, your back hitting the book shelves.

"you look so pretty" she cooed, "god, I want to ruin you."

You whimpered, her eyes darkening at the sound as she leans in, kissing you on the lips, your hands coming up to wrap around her neck.

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #older!wanda #more librarian!wanda hehe #stuff i wrote

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avatar-anna · 4 months

Text

Pale Green Stripes

The Professor Masterlist

this takes place during The Professor Series!

"Did you know you're the only person who never tries to interrupt me?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry and Y/n lay on the carpeted floor of her townhouse. Their shoulders touched, but that was about it. Even so, Harry could feel that tiny bit of contact throughout his entire body. The professor probably had a word for that, a scientific term to explain why just the slightest graze—not even skin against skin—sent him into a tailspin that made him have to focus extra hard on what she said.

Y/n's hands knotted together on her lap, a thing she did when she held herself back. It was as if she had to physically restrain herself some way to keep her from speaking out of turn. Harry personally never thought she did, from their first meeting at the bookstore, he'd been fascinated by her, by the things she said.

"I don't mean to...impart information on people the way that I do. It just happens sometimes," she said, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Harry knew he probably should've too, but he couldn't help but look at the professor instead. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and earrings made to look like Salvador Dalí's melting clocks in her ears. Her jewelry was always a mix of something professional and a little quirky, Harry came to realize, as if even at work as a professor at Cambridge University she couldn't help but have a little fun.

Her wardrobe consisted of patterned socks and cherry red Adidas shoes and fun knitted sweaters and vests. Today she merely wore a cozy navy blue sweater and a flowy white skirt, her red shoes were on a rack by the door, but she still wore her ruffled socks with embroidered roses on them.

"I don't mind it at all," he replied honestly.

Y/n blinked a couple times, then said, "I know. I was surprised at first because everyone usually cuts me off. Or walks away."

Harry frowned. He couldn't help but notice how clinically the professor spoke about the hurtful things that had been done to her. By her family, so-called colleagues, the few friends she had at work. He couldn't fathom anyone finding Y/n anything less than wonderful. She was brilliant, yes, but funny, and charismatic, and had a knack for storytelling. Harry never wanted her to stop talking. Ever.

"I like listening to you," he told her, shrugging as best he could given his current prone position.

"That's probably because you never finished school and are trying to make up for lost time."

From anyone else, that would've been a joke, a jab, but Y/n took education seriously, had mentioned it numerous times since they met.

Still, Harry chuckled. "Maybe I just like the sound of your voice. Maybe I just like hearing what you have to say. Maybe I find your lectures highly arousing."

"Edward!"

Even as he laughed with her, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew he should tell her, he should've told her months ago. His middle name fired out of his mouth before he could think the first time Y/n asked him for his name. A desire for anonymity, that was all it was. He didn't think he'd see her again outside the one time, so he thought it would be harmless. Then they did keep meeting, and he didn't have the guts to tell her, and now he was too deep in the lie to find a way out.

"What?"

Harry had never been shy about his attraction to the professor, even if he'd only seen half of her face due to the mask she wore. There was so much to appreciate about her, so much to admire, and he let his own imagination do the rest. He could've, of course, looked her up online. Y/n had mentioned something about posting educational videos online, but he thought it was only fair that if she didn't know what his entire face looked like that he didn't either.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" she asked, and even without the mask, Harry could tell she was blushing.

"Like what?"

"About me. About—about your attraction to me and how you find me—or think I'm a—"

"Yes?" Harry encouraged. He could tell there was a word or phrase she had in mind but was too embarrassed to use.

"In the 16th Century, the word bellibone was first used. It's derived from French etymology using the words belle and bonne to describe a woman who excels in both beauty and goodness. There's really only one known use in the late 1500s. A poet named Edmund Spenser, though he was from Ireland. It's fascinating how a word can be used once then ceases to exist, don't you think?"

Harry blinked, not totally prepared for the tangent, though perhaps he should've been. Grinning beneath his mask, he said, "I think it describes you perfectly."

"Edward," Y/n said, now her neck was flushed too.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "The compliments? The—" He might as well call it what it was—"flirting?"

"N—No."

"Because I'll stop if it does," he promised. "I just think you should know how devastating you are."

One of the professor's eyebrows quirked up in confusion. "That was an interesting choice in adjective."

But it was the perfect one. Harry knew he couldn't be with Y/n the way he wanted when she didn't know the truth about who he was, and he couldn't risk losing her if he finally told her. Perhaps it was unfair to play at something he knew he couldn't have, but part of him wanted Y/n to know that she was desirable, that she was more than what her intellect offered. Sure, Harry found her intelligence sexy as all get out, but she was also beautiful, and funny, and kind, and he didn't think anyone had ever complimented more than just her brain.

He would spend an entire day complimenting her if he had the time, or if she let him.

But while Y/n was confident in many things, romantic feelings weren't one of them. Despite the obstacles he put in his own way, Harry didn't think the professor was quite ready to hear how much he really liked her.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?" Y/n asked.

"Anything," Harry said, facing her and propping his head in his hand. "A book you read, something that fascinates you, your least favorite student, anything."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she positioned her body to face his. "I don't have a least favorite student."

"I don't believe you," he replied, narrowing his eyes back playfully.

Y/n scanned his face, then up and down his body. It was casual, though Harry noticed that her gaze lingered in places—his arms, his shoulders, his face. He wore a mask, but he tried to suppress his grin anyway. Then, before he could tease her more, her eyes lit up.

"Did you know the stripe pattern originated in the Middle Ages?"

He never knew, but she always prefaced her information the same way. "Did it?"

Nodding to the green striped shirt Harry wore, she said, "Stripes were used to identify social outcasts. Prostitutes, criminals, hangmen, clowns and jugglers; they all had to wear stripes so they were easily recognizable in regular society."

"Clowns?"

"Outcasts and people who were...not society's favorites, like court jesters and such. European governments even legalized the requirement of certain citizens to wear stripes. Though now, of course, stripes are popular due to Coco Chanel wearing a striped shirt similar to French sailor uniforms, which, you know, sailors were also usually the lowest rank of the French navy. Then stripes began appearing in women's activewear in the 1920s, Al Capone began wearing pinstriped suits, and the rest is history. A long, brutal history, obviously, seeing as prisoners were later forced to wear striped uniforms, and prisoners in concentration camps during World War Two, but—there you have it. A brief, slightly detailed history of the stripe."

Harry looked down at his long sleeved shirt, the thin pale green and white striped that lined his arms and torso. "Not sure if I'll be able to wear stripes again, but... that's really fascinating."

"Thought you might like that," Y/n said with a shrug.

Harry tilted his head questioningly. "Why do you say that?"

"You like clothes."

He didn't question how she knew that. With her background, Y/n seemed to know things about him that she just happened to observe. It was a little disconcerting at first, but he came to appreciate that he didn't have to pretend around her. No airs, no personas, none of the things he'd become so accustomed to in recent years. The professor might not have known about Harry's career, but she knew him in ways no one else did.

"Well," he said, playfully sighing at his shirt. "Guess I'm never wearing stripes again."

Y/n's eyes squinted and her mask scrunched a little, the way they always did when she smiled. With an unmistakable glint in her eye, the adorable one she always got when Harry indulged in her. "Wait until you hear about polka dots!"

Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement making him chuckle a little. "Tell me more, love."

#harry styles #harry styles x professor y/n #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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kalki-tarot · 8 months

Text

Guidance from the universe you need right now. 🪷

Timeless pick a pile reading. ✨️

Disclaimer : tarot is not 100% accurate. This reading is just of entertainment purposes. I'm not responsible for any decision(s) you make on behalf of my readings. Your life is in your own hands. Tarot is just a tool for guidance and doesn't replace medical or professional treatment. It's not set in stone, you are the creator of your own destiny.

Reading will be specific so take what resonates and leave the rest ✨️

Pile 1

If you are feeling stuck or stagnant, go meet your friends. Get out of your house and try to have new experiences.

Your life would be in this unstable and juggling energy until you make a strong decision. Leave behind your indecisiveness and be practical.

Let go of control, be like a river, flowing freely and accepting whatever comes it's way, good or bad. This is how life works. You fears are self imposed. They don't exist in reality, break the wall you surround yourself with.

Don't worry about losing anything. You're going to be blessed with abundance and clarity soon. You're delaying and blocking your own happiness by doing so.

Divine wants to play their role in your life. Let divine intervention take place, be receptive emotionally. That ultimate wish of yours will get fulfilled. You're gonna meet someone new. You'll have an emotional connection with them, most probably a romantic connection.

For some of you, your divine union is about to take place. You'll meet your divine counterpart. Cycles have ended. Libra sign may be significant. This union will bring balance into your life. Everything will feel at their right place. Trust divine timing. Your life will be just like you've imagined.

Please leave feedback in the comments 🙏🏽

Pile 2

Someone in your friend group or workplace is probably lying to you. Beware of them and don't believe their lies, don't get manipulated by them.

Many new opportunities are coming your way, overseas travel and new job opportunities may be significant.

Universe is telling you that your hardwork will pay off. You'll reap the fruits of your hard work soon.

A female can mess up your love relationship. This female can be a clingy water sign who needs constant reassurance from people. You need not focus on her. Just focus on your relationship and don't let her get into this. They can appear sweet and caring from outside but they are heartbroken and wants to ruin things.

If you're looking for a job, or if you're facing unstablity in career then things will start to get into proper alignment. Just do your work without thinking of the results.

Things are about to change! You are expanding yourself through study, business enterprise or travel. The energy is that You are becoming more aware of the opportunities that surround you. So grab them on time! It's a great chance for you.

Please leave feedback in the comments 🙏🏽

Pile 3

It'll end. The situation that you're going through will end. It's over, you've had enough. Now peace and prosperity will come into your life. All the things you've given to others will come back to you. Your inner conflict will come to peace. Things are calming down for you. Some of you may get anxious thinking about these things. But trust me, now things are changing.

If someone robbed you or took away your money, karma is working in your favour. They'll get punished for what they did.

I see a traditional couple here. Some of you could be married or into a relationship. If yes, then I see a negative energy affecting your relationship. Can be a third party, addiction or toxic personality etc. That will affect this.

The message is clear, if things get out of hands, move forward. That is human nature, to change. Those who stay stuck eventually experience the consequences of not adapting. You have a lot of new options in love. Look around.

There can be a masculine energy near you who wants things to turn out great romantically with you. They can be an influential and strong individual. They can be from your childhood or a place from childhood.

Don't forget your power. You are really powerful and self sufficient. You can earn bread and money for yourself. You are highly intuitive and wise. Use your gifts, pile 3. You are blessed from the universe. You can be an empath or someone who reads other's emotions perfectly. You are a star. Don't forget that!

Please leave feedback in the comments 🙏🏽

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urfavstargirl1 · 1 year

Note

Here’s a little prompt ig you can call it for you Eddie fluff buttttt Eddie is crushing on shy!reader? Idk if that helps with ideas but yea :)

hey anon, don't think I forgot about you babe. still in the mood for fluff but finally found the time to write

-----------------------------

Talk

"Psst," Eddie hisses from the desk next to you.

You look at him from the corner of your eye, turning your head slightly to the other side.

“Hey," he gently taps your desk, giving you no other choice than to nervously peer up at him, "Do you have a pencil I could borrow?”

Borrow. No amount of stars in his eyes or sweetness in his smile could distract from the fact that this would be the fourth pencil in a row he’s borrowed this week.

You almost want to say something, but it’s not worth the trouble. Why make a big deal out of something as small as a pencil?

“Please,” he whispers as the person in front of him passes a stack of papers to him.

You reluctantly oblige. You always have a stash of pencils in your bag. Eddie seems to have observed as much and was poised to use it to his advantage.

Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. At least that’s what your parents always said.

So, of course, you were always prepared for anything. Having a backpack with extra pencils, a sharpener, mini first aid kit, period products, hair ties, and even a snack or two has come in handier more often than you'd like to admit.

It always astonishes you to see people like Eddie who don't seem to be prepared for anything. At least not that you could see in class.

However, it was just your luck that Eddie Munson would be the one to identify this fact of yours, thanks to the stupid seating chart Ms. O’Donnell had in class forcing Eddie sit to right next to you.

You almost resented her for it. Teachers were always sitting the bad kids or the loud kids next to you, hoping your shy and quiet demeanor would somehow cancel theirs out like some stupid pemdas math equation.

But no, that was not how the laws of the universe worked. Sitting next to Eddie didn't make a difference in his behavior, much to Ms. O'Donnell's dismay.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” Eddie grinned at you, making your eyes widen and heart constrict in your chest. And perhaps that was one of the few plus sides, not nearly enough to counteract the many downsides to sitting next to Eddie: that thing you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Some could call it charm. Others might call it charisma. You weren't sure what to call it. But all you knew was that before this class, you wouldn't have given much thought to Eddie. If you saw him in the hall, you would either not notice him completely or if you did, you probably wouldn't get any goosebumps or an alarmingly high pulse like you do now.

Whenever he smiled at your or talked to you, even about something as simple as borrowing a pencil, he always said it like you were special, and his smile or words were for you and you only.

No one had ever made you feel that way before.

You could barely admit to yourself how much you liked your minute daily interactions with Eddie, let alone tell him.

So like always, you turned your attention forward, failing to ignore that thump thump, thump thump feeling of your heart beat somehow louder or maybe just faster as a result of that stupid smile and tried desperately to ignore the feeling and instead, get to work on your pop quiz.

****

After you've turned in your pop quiz, waited a mind-numbingly boring amount of minutes between the quiz and the end of class, the bell rings.

The sound of the tinkly metal chime brings you back to life. You organize your things in your bag and get up from your desk.

From the corner of your eye, you see Eddie barely finishing up with his quiz.

Just like yesterday and the day before, you know he's not going to give you your pencil back. For all you know, he'll need it for his other classes. Which makes you wonder how he survived the periods before yours.

But for now, you're just relieved class is over and you can enjoy a much needed break at lunch.

You make your way to the door of the classroom and exit into the hall, thrust into the sea of students making their daily migration to the cafeteria. Before you can even make it to the end of the hall, Eddie catches up to you.

"Hey neighbor," a deep voice reverberates behind you and suddenly, a warm shoulder lightly presses into yours.

You turn your head to the side of the offender and find a wild head of frizzy tousled waves framing the face of none other than Eddie Munson.

Your eyes widen and lips part. Your expression frozen as you process the fact that Eddie is currently standing next to you, and closely enough that you can feel the warmth of his body.

"H-Hi," you say as more of a question than a greeting.

"I believe this belongs to you," he says as though he's handing you some sort of precious gem despite only the wooden pencil being offered from his rough ring clad hand.

"O-oh. Thanks," you say in bewilderment, slowly accepting the pencil from him.

He smiles at you again and it that same heart-wrenching smile that just makes you want to faint into his arms.

"I should be the one thanking you. Can't army crawl my way to a D without the proper equipment," he jokes.

You smile and awkwardly laugh, instantly feeling guilt about being so annoyed by lending him a pencil when he's obviously struggling in class.

You settle into a silence. Something you're usually comfortable with, but as you've somewhat gotten to know Eddie in class, realize he may just be the opposite.

"So, you don't really talk much, huh?" Eddie ask as you both continue walking to the cafeteria.

You guess you and Eddie are walking to lunch together now.

You shrug at his question. This isn't the first time someone has asked you this and it definitely won't be the last. "What's there to say?"

"Lot of things," Eddie shrugs and smiles at you.

How can you talk, when Eddie's stupid smiles send you into a mental frenzy, preventing any sort of coherent speech.

You shake your head and try to find the right words, something you seem especially to have trouble with around Eddie.

"I don't know. Talking's overrated. You can learn way more about a person by listening."

"Gotcha," Eddie nods, "So what have you learned about me?"

"That you never come to class prepared," you say without even thinking.

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you wish they hadn't. Instantly feeling remorse and embarrassment at the fact that the filter you are usually good at using when speaking to anyone besides your friends has somehow seemed to disappear in the presence of Eddie Munson.

Meanwhile Eddie is doubled over laughing at your blatant response.

"I'm sorry. What I meant was-"

Eddie places a hand on your shoulder and smiles at you with both his mouth and his eyes, "Don't be. It's true."

You face forward and nod, already feeling a warmth crawl to your cheeks.

"Hey," he nudges your shoulder, making you look into his warm brown eyes, "But if you don't talk, how am I ever gonna learn anything about you?"

You gasp as though you got sucker punched in the stomach.

Your brain can barely even scramble to mutter a coherent response.

Your eyebrows raise and your eyelids blink.

This is also why you don't talk a lot. Half the time, the thoughts in your brain don't seem to know how to make it to your mouth, and the other half, well, your mouth just ends up doing all the talking for you.

"Watch where you're going freak," someone shouts near you and Eddie.

Before you've even realized it, you've made it to the cafeteria and got into the lunch line with Eddie.

Eddie scowls and merely flips the student off before turning to you and smiling.

You shyly smile back, but still severely aware of the comment he had made.

Eddie... wants to learn about you?

"Seriously though," he laughs, a certain sort of rasp more pronounced in his voice, "What's a guy gotta do?"

You shrug, not sure how to answer what is a rather loaded question for you.

"I don't know," you answer frankly. "Talk is cheap. A lot of times people are saying things without really saying anything important, you know?"

"So you only talk when you really want to say something, when you mean it?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," you nod.

"I see," Eddie nods and gestures for you to go before him as you approach the food station.

As you grab your tray Eddie leans over to you and says, "Why don't you sit with me and my friends today? They can be a bit of a riot but I think you'll like 'em."

On any other occasion, his offer would practically give you a heart attack, but seeing as all your other friends are either in study hall or have a different lunch period leaves you no other choice.

"Um, sure," you nervously smile and let him lead the way to his table.

"Gentlemen, meet Y/N. She'll be sitting with us today so let's give her a warm Hellfire welcome," Eddie announces as he sets his tray down at the end of the table. Two rows of boys sit on either side of the table, letting about six sets of eyes land on you.

You smile nervously and wave awkwardly, "Hi."

There's no empty seats next to Eddie, but before you can find another one by the other end of the table, Eddie shoos some of the boys to his right to scoot down a seat creating an empty one next to his.

You gracefully take a seat and mutter a quick thanks to the closest boy.

"So, what's Hellfire?" You ask nonchalantly. But perhaps it was a naive question because it causes the rest of the boys to go into a full tizzy.

"Eddie!"

"You didn't tell her?"

"It's the only saving grace in this god-forsaken hell hole."

Comments and exclamations come flying at you meanwhile Eddie can only smile and stare at you, simultaneously making your chest feel warm and like you want to crawl under a rock.

Eddie lays a warm palm along your forearm, "Patience, young jedi, you'll soon learn the ways of the Hellfire Club."

You eyes instantly shoot down to look at his limb connected to yours. And instinctively, you look up at the boy across from you, as if to silently ask, "Are you seeing this too?"

And he looks at you with widened blue eyes and eyebrows that almost reach the head of light brown wavy hair as if to say, "Yeah, I'm seeing this too. It's weird, right?"

You subtly nod, because it is weird. Not entirely unwelcome, but definitely unexpected.

Eddie retracts his hand and begins to say something. The table has all eyes on him, but not you. You're still replaying what just happened in your brain over and over again like a carousel projector caught on the same slide.

"Right Y/N?" Eddie asks.

You shake your head and mutter a quick apology. "Huh?"

"Well while you were off in la la land and, trust me, I don't blame you. I do it all the time myself. But we were just talking about tonights Hellfire meeting. You in?"

Oh no, he caught you. Does he have any idea you were thinking about how warm and rough his hand felt on your skin? Or how strong his fingers felt?

Hopefully not.

But the more important thing to worry about now is the fact that Eddie just invited you to Hellfire Club!

What does this mean?

Should you say yes?

You kind of have to say yes right? It'd be rude not to. And it seems like a big enough deal to him and his friends. But you still have no idea what Hellfire is or what's gonna happen tonight. But you guess you're just going to have to find out.

"Um, yeah," you reply with a shy and bright smile.

"Yeah," Eddie fist pumps in the air. "Okay, so I gotta warn you, these guys can get pretty reckless. But I know you can handle it."

You smile with your lips closed and nod. Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?

"Meet us in the drama room after school, okay?"

"Sure," you nod and shyly smile at the other boys.

After school comes like clockwork and you find yourself nervously approaching the drama room doors. A poster with messy handwriting reads, "Hellfire Club Meeting in Session."

Okay, here goes.

You open the door, and enter the dark space. You wander through the room, guided by the warm stage-lights turned on further inside.

You eyes land on Eddie, who's sitting at a throne prop no doubtedly used by the drama club for the upcoming play. He's seated at the head of the table, just like at lunch.

He goes between reading a piece of paper and adjusting figurines on the table.

As you walk further into the room, you see no one else is here yet. It's just you and Eddie.

And before you can even say anything, your footsteps are enough to announce your presence causing Eddie with a face of concentration adorning his scrunched up brows and pursed lips, to a full on grin and lit up eyes as he sees you.

"Hey neighbor," he gets up from the throne and jogs over to you.

You nervously grin and offer a small squeaky, “Hey.”

He gets closer to you and swiftly encloses you in a bear hug.

Your body tenses and your eyes flinch shut. You didn't expect him to make such a move, much less so casually. But then you take a second to embrace the feeling of his strong arms around you. The warmth of his body against yours. Or the scent of soap and tobacco lingering on his clothes.

And before you can even think to hug him back, he pulls away, but leaves one arm wrapped around your shoulder and guides you to the table, "I'm glad you could make it."

You make a sound adjacent to a nervous laugh, “Yeah.”

Eddie pulls the chair closest to throne out for you to take a seat. Eddie sits on the edge of the table and looks down at you.

“Alright so before everyone else shows up let me fill you in on how things go down in Hellfire.”

The feeling of your surprise and almost fear at the unknown of what will happen must be evident on your face because Eddie leans forward and places a comforting hand on your forearm again.

“Don’t worry okay, it’s gonna be fun,” he says in a voice you find utterly endearing but aren’t poised enough to really appreciate it because all you can focus is on is the feeling of flames at the point where Eddie’s skin and your meets.

“O-Okay,” you force yourself to utter.

You focus as best as you can while Eddie explains the game of Dungeons and Dragons to you, but by god is it easy to get lost in those stars in his eyes.

Soon the rest of the boys start showing up and they help explain a few other things too.

Before you know it, you're in the midst of your first campaign. You have no idea what you're doing half the time, but Eddie was surprisingly right. It is fun.

So much fun in fact that you've lost track of time. And now you really should be heading home before your parents start to worry.

But Eddie has hypnotized you. You don't want this night to ever end. But it has to. And now, all the boys are packing up their things and getting ready to leave. And so should you. So you do.

And as the boys begin to trickle out of the room, Eddie looks at you and says the magic words: "Hey, can I give you a ride home?"

If someone would have told you earlier today that you'd be spending the evening with Eddie Munson at Hellfire Club and would even be getting a ride home from him, you would have never believed them.

But anything could happen.

"Yeah," you nod breathlessly.

The night sweeps you by as you find yourself in the passenger seat of Eddie's large beat up van with loud metal music blaring from the speakers.

But it feels oddly comforting. And you don't mind being the passenger seat princess with Eddie's music and fast paced train of thought filling the space.

You could listen to Eddie talk for hours. Whether it be in that silly medieval accent he does for Hellfire or in his normal voice with just enough rasp and deepness to it that you love.

As Eddie's van crawls along the curb to your front yard, and as he shifts the gear into park, a wave of sadness overcomes you.

You look out the window and over to Eddie. You press you lips together and shrug, pointing out the window with your thumb, "This is me."

Eddie nods and rubs the palm of his hand along the nape of his neck, "Yeah. Listen, uh, I had a lot of fun with you today."

"Me too," you squeak.

Eddie's eyes light up as he looks into yours, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you shyly smile, feeling heat crawl to your cheeks and neck.

"Cool, yeah, I'm glad," Eddie flounders around his words as he lays his palms flat along his thighs and rubs them along the denim, slightly avoiding your gaze.

"Eddie," you ask as you shift your head, looking for his eyes. When he lets you find them, he smiles nervously.

Eddie. Nervous? No way.

"Sorry, uh, I don't usually get like this," Eddie looks away and awkwardly laughs. "Kind of funny how I'm the shy one now."

"It's okay," you reassure him.

He pauses for a moment, and you decide to do something unexpected. You place a gentle hand on his forearm, attempting to comfort him the way he had for you.

He briefly flits his eyes up to yours and lets out a breathless laugh. With his other hand, he guides your hand to move down and interlock with his. He squeezes firmly, grounding himself in your touch.

"You're really cool, you know that?" Eddie smiles at you earnestly.

"No, but thanks," you shyly smile back, feeling about one million butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Would it be cool if I, um... Could I have your phone number?"

Now, you've officially died and gone to heaven.

You nod giddily and sweetly whisper a soft, "Yeah."

You take out a notebook and pencil from your bag. You tear off a corner from a blank page and write your phone number.

You hand it over to Eddie and you can practically feel the buzz of electric excitement coming from him.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, just don't forget to bring a pencil this time," you tease as you put you things back in your bag and unbuckle your seatbelt.

"Then what excuse will I have to talk to you," Eddie responds.

You laugh at first until you realize he meant it. He was actually doing that just as an excuse to talk to you.

Holy shit.

"Um, I'm sure you'll come up with something," you nervously laugh. "You seemed to work that Munson magic pretty well today."

It was something you said rather off-handedly, but that sort of is what drew you to Eddie. Some sort of magic he seemed to possess. Someone who was rather unsuspecting from the jump, seemingly with magic had you utterly charmed.

"Munson magic, I like that. Guess you'll just have to find out tomorrow then," Eddie said confidently.

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, "Whichever one you want it to be."

You rolled your eyes and smiled as you opened the car door and slide out of the seat, "Goodnight Eddie."

Eddie smiled at you as you looked at him one last time.

"Goodnight Y/N," he smirked.

You close the door behind you and giddily walk up the driveway to your house, hoping Eddie nor your parents would be able to tell just how giddy you'd felt.

Or how strange this whole day has been. Or how Eddie's Munson magic has you feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst ##stranger things fanfic #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #urfavstargirl1

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

A Star from Another Universe

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader/Idol!Reader

Summary: What if Alice found you when you first arrived in Teyvat? Alice nursed you back to health, and you stayed with her until you healed. One day, Alice goes up to you while you're babysitting Klee and asks you what your thoughts are on becoming an idol.

Note: I have been having so many random AUs recently that I need to get it out of my head. This is Idol!reader AU for the ongoing Isekai'd!reader one-shot series! :> This entire story is what I have had on my mind for a while, and I honestly don't mind making a "small" headcanon on what kind of fans the men are. Since there are almost thirty people in the harem. Anyway! I hope all Al Haitham wanters are Al Haitham havers! :> I was able to get him on my NA account and my Asia account ^^ Keep in mind that I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 8.7k

The day you appeared mysteriously in Teyvat, a woman took you under her wing to nurse you back to your healthy state. The woman went by the name Alice; she was a sweet woman who mothered you as if you were her own child. Alice is not only charming, but there’s something about her that makes her feel so powerful, almost intimidating.

You’re not from Teyvat or their universe; you’re an outlander, but you’re not like the two blonde outlander twins searching for their kin. You’re an outlander whose existence does not belong in their universe; you just mysteriously appeared in their world without an explanation. Not even Alice can figure out what brought you to Teyvat.

A few weeks after the injuries you sustained from being thrown into Teyvat had healed, Alice approaches you one day while you’re outside playing with Klee. Today is the second time you’re tasked to babysit Klee while Alice is out and about tending to her business; you nearly got bombed with the fishes in the lake. It was not fun, but Klee made it up to you by giving you a small dodoco plush similar to the one hanging off her backpack.

“[Y/N], sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Alice asks, walking up to you while Klee is chasing a crystal fly five feet away from you two.

You give Alice a smile and wave at the woman. “I’m doing great! The concoction you have given me for my injuries has helped me greatly. I really appreciate it, Alice,” you said sincerely.

Alice pulls you into her arms and rubs your back. “That’s great to hear, sweetheart,” Alice coos.

You hug Alice back, and the two of you pull away from the hug. You hear Klee scream with joy; you turn to look, only to see Klee jumping up and down in the air while cheering that she finally caught a crystal fly. Klee looks over at you and Alice; her eyes light up before making her way toward you and Alice.

“Look what I got!” Klee squeals, holding her hand out to show you and her mother the anemo crystal fly in the palm of her hands. “Isn’t it pretty?” Klee asks in awe.

Her eyes fill with wonder as she watches the crystal fly flutter out of her hands. Klee pouts and turns around, running off to catch another crystal fly. You look at Alice and notice her looking at you from head to toe, her chin propped up on her fist, head tilting to the side.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Alice?” You ask, laughing nervously.

Alice purses her lips and squints at you. “What do you think about becoming an idol?” Alice asks.

Your eyes widen. “An idol?! Like, singing and dancing in front of a large audience?” You squeak.

Alice nods. “That is correct! What do you think about being an idol? I think you have the potential to be a worldwide idol,” Alice says.

She turns you around, continuing to look at you from head to toe. You have no idea how it’s going to work out. You being an idol while you’re from another universe? Would the fans and critics even care about your origins and background? There’s no way you can be an idol in Teyvat— no way at all.

After that day and the conversation between you and Alice, you find yourself sitting on a chair backstage. You look at your reflection in the mirror while the stylists are getting you ready for your performance. It’s been a year since the conversation between you and Alice, and now you’re an idol.

It’s strange and sudden; it feels like a blur, and everything around you has changed so much and so fast that you end up getting whiplash from it all. You lean back in your seat and close your eyes, letting the makeup artist apply sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids, putting small gemstones at the corner of your eyes. Alice insisted you become an idol so you can thrive in Teyvat. When she told you that, you knew she was telling you to get off your ass and get a job. You don’t mind getting a job in Teyvat, but getting a career as an idol? That is something you would never imagine yourself being.

“How much time do you guys need before [Y/N] goes up on stage to perform again?” The security asks, peeking into your dressing room.

“Give us five more minutes, and we’ll have [Y/N] out on stage soon,” Emilia, your makeup artist, says, dabbing a little bit of foundation on your face.

You didn’t expect much when you first started as an idol. You had low expectations for yourself because why would anyone be a fan of an idol that did not belong in their universe? Especially when you don’t know what region they’re from; many have speculated that you’re from one of the seven nations in Teyvat, but all continued to be speculations and have never been confirmed nor denied.

Your existence and general background are shrouded in mystery. That’s what made you appealing to your audience; your fans. Despite being a charming and appealing idol, you’re still mysterious, and that’s what the fans love about you. You have a lot of fans, even more than you expected. You expected to have around fifteen fans, but you were wrong. Your popularity is booming, and it excites Alice (she is also your agent). She has booked you many interviews and TV shows (she also wants you to have a background in acting) and booked as many performances as possible to get your name out in Teyvat.

Within two months of your debut as an idol from another universe (that is what you’re known for), your face is all over magazines, billboards, posters, and advertisements and many people know your name and music. Who doesn’t know you and your music? Even adeptis and archons from seven nations know your existence and music— perhaps even Celestial gods know of your existence, but you don’t know that. You’re living the luscious life, showered in attention, Mora, precious gems, and expensive fabrics.

“I wonder if there are people that claim to be my biggest fan,” you mutter.

Emilia places her makeup brush down on the table and looks at you curiously. “I’m sure there are people that do! My niece says that she’s the biggest [Y/N] fan,” Emilia replies, smiling at you.

You crack your eyes open and look at Emilia with interest. “Is that so? Has she been to one of my concerts before?” You ask.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and stand up. You fix and adjust your stage outfit. Each set of your performance has specific clothing made for the set performance. One of your favorite outfits out of all the things you have worn to perform is usually the one that is saved for last. It’s silver and white; you have tinsels in your hair, and the gem in the corner of your eyes would sparkle each time you winked (not really, it was the lighting that made them glimmer).

Emilia nods her head, smiling widely. “She’s currently in the crowd with her mother and father. They’re really excited to watch you perform,” said Emilia.

“Well, I am excited to perform for your niece and her parents,” you said. “I’m ready for my performance now. I’ve been keeping them waiting for way too long,” you brush your hair over your shoulders and turn to Emilia.

Emilia nods her head and watches you leave the dressing room. You’re guided to the lower part of the stage behind the curtains. You’re instructed to stand in the center of the stage trapdoor and were handed the microphone. You can hear loud cheers, screams, and excited chatter from the audience. No matter how many times you have performed, you will always be nervous about how the performance is going to turn out.

“Good luck! You’re going to do great!” Alice squeezes your arms with an encouraging smile.

You let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Alice,” you breathe.

Itto and Gorou shove their way through the crowd of roaring fans; Itto has a large sign in his hands while Gorou is holding onto glowsticks. Gorou mutters a soft “excuse me,” “pardon me,” as he and Itto weave through sweaty people. Once both Itto and Gorou have gotten to the front of the row, Itto sees how close they are to the stage. On the front row in front of the stage, aside from Itto and Gorou, were twenty-three other men standing in front of the stage barrier, waiting for the performance to start.

“[Y/N]’s number one fan? Psh! I doubt it,” Itto hears someone scoff.

Itto turns to the man beside him and sees a ginger-haired Snezhnayan man, also holding up a sign with your name plastered on it. Itto raises his eyebrows at the Snezhnayan man and looks over at the dark brown-haired man beside the ginger.

“Childe, please refrain yourself from starting fights at a concert,” Zhongli mutters, glaring over at the man beside him.

“Yeah, Childe. Why are you upset to see me, [Y/N]’s number one fan, coming out here to support them?” Itto asks, glaring at the ginger-haired male.

Gorou laughs nervously and taps Itto on the shoulders. “Itto, I don’t think we should be getting into fights either. Not only will that get us kicked out, but people around us can also get injured,” Gorou explains.

Childe laughs. “If you’re [Y/N]’s number one fan, then how come you weren’t in the first row throughout the entire performance? This is the first time I have seen you in the first row,” Childe raises his eyebrows at the oni.

Itto narrows his eyes at Childe and eyes Childe from head to toe. Childe has a bandana wrapped around his forehead with your name in the center. A sign in Childe’s grasp has the words, “❤❤ PLEASE MARRY ME [Y/N] ❤❤” written in capitalization in colorful markers. Hearts are scattered around on the white sign, glitter lining the borders of the sign, and your name is big and bold in gold. Itto lets out a scoff, a smirk appearing on his face.

“How desperate and pathetic,” Itto thinks to himself.

Itto turns to look at the stage, watching people prepare for the next performance. Diluc peeks from Kaeya’s shoulders and rolls his eyes when he sees Itto and Childe’s signs. It’s almost laughable in a way, but Diluc shouldn’t be the one to judge since he, himself, has a sign as well.

“Archons, how did we get stuck near those two idiots?” Diluc mutters, rolling his eyes.

Kaeya snickers. “Relax, brother. They won’t start anything other than an argument. We’ve seen them argue on public forms before; it’s normal at this point,” Kaeya says.

“They also snuck their way into the first row. Apparently, Itto weaved his way through the crowd to get in front of the stage barrier,” Albedo says casually, looking at the stage designs and stage lights.

Venti taps Albedo on the shoulders. “Don’t you know [Y/N]’s agent? If so, can you get us all backstage passes to meet the [Y/N]?” Venti asks eagerly.

“I thought we’re already going to meet [Y/N]? Didn’t the front-row tickets get us the chance to have a meet-and-greet with [Y/N]?” Aether asks, unscrewing his water bottle and taking a sip of his water.

“Last time I checked, it says guaranteed. Therefore, we are going to meet [Y/N] backstage after the concert,” Dainsleif says, resting his arm on the steel stage barrier.

“Why after the concert? We’re all going to be smelling like each other’s body odor while sweating at the same time,” Scaramouche grumbles, glaring at the person that accidentally brushed up against him.

“To be honest, I would rather meet [Y/N] after the concert than before the concert because they’ll remember us when they go home,” Heizou says, shrugging his shoulders.

“But we’re going to be sweaty when we meet them,” Tighnari sighs in discontentment, scratching his ears with irritation.

“Hey, we’ll be meeting them after their performance. I’m pretty sure they’re going to be just as sweaty as we are, if not, maybe sweater than us because they’re the one that’s performing,” Thoma shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the steel barrier while waving the glowstick in the air subconsciously.

The lights in the stadium soon dim, causing everyone in the stadium to quiet down. Kazuha taps on Xiao’s shoulders, motioning for him to crack the glowstick for it to illuminate. Xiao searches around on his person for the glowstick, only to realize that he had dropped it somewhere while getting seated in the stadium.

“I seem to have lost it,” Xiao mutters, his eyebrows furrowing while his hands continue to roam around his body, searching for the glowstick.

Kazuha gives Xiao a sympathetic smile. “That’s okay, Xiao! I have a spare glowstick,” Kazuha says, handing Xiao the uncracked glowstick.

A faint smile appears on Xiao’s face as he takes the glowstick from Kazuha’s grasp, quietly thanking the samurai shyly. Xiao cracks the glowstick, and it immediately lights up. The sound of footsteps echos the quiet stadium, and the stage lights shine down on a white box. The crowd stares at the box with anticipation and sees your silhouette rising in the box.

Loud cheers and screams erupt from the audience, colorful stage lights come on, the box you’re in is suddenly knocked down, and you step out onto the stage.

“They’re even prettier in person,” Kaveh whispers to himself, covering his mouth as he watches you start the performance for over one hundred thousand attendees.

“They’re very mesmerizing,” Baizhu says in awe, not taking his eyes off of you.

Al Haitham watches you dance and sing on stage. The way the light shines down on you, trails after your movement, confetti flying in the air and raining down on you and the audience is a sight to see. Your face is on the big screen; you make eye contact with the kamera man and send a wink to the kamera, the gem at the corner of your eyes sparkling.

“Not only are their performances flawless and beautiful, but they are as well,” Al Haitham says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cyno chuckles beside Al Haitham. “That’s why they’re known as the world-class performer, Al Haitham,” Cyno replies.

With the music blaring, and the audience screaming for your attention each time you walk by them, the men doubt the others would be able to hear them voicing out their thoughts. Every time you walk by the front row close to the men, they would scream as loud as they can and wave their signs, trying to get your attention. Your eyes will sweep over the VIP section of the stadium, smiling and waving at the section. Your music is blasting in the background; you have earplugs in your ears; your stage outfit looks immaculate, and your hair and makeup are flawless as usual.

Wanting to grab your attention, Pantalone pulls out a generous-sized bag of Mora and tosses it on the stage. The bag of Mora lands beside your feet, lightly tapping your foot. You look down at the bag of Mora with wide eyes. You squat down, grab the bag and examine it with wide eyes of disbelief. You look up, searching around for the owner of the bag of Mora.

Pantalone waves his glowstick around, desperately trying to get your attention. You and Pantalone make eye contact; the minute your eyes meet, Pantalone feels his heart race against his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks to the point where his face feels hot under your gaze. You slowly stand and walk towards the section where he’s standing. Seeing you approach their section, the twenty-four other men start to crowd around Pantalone, resulting in him getting pinned against the steel stage barrier.

“Hey, stop pushing, you buffoon!” Dottore hisses, glaring at the men who are desperately trying to get your attention the closer you get to their section.

You walk down the step on the side of the stage with the help of security. You thank the guard and approach the men who are almost breaking through the stage barriers. You stop in front of them and hold the bag of Mora up for them to see.

“Who does this belong to?” You ask into the microphone.

You would ask them without the microphone, but with the screams and number of people hollering your name, reaching out to you to grab your attention (or to even touch you), it was hard to ask them personally.

“It belongs to me, but you can keep it,” Pantalone says, sending a wink in your direction with a charming smile on his face.

While the smile on Pantalone’s face looks like a charming smile, Pantalone is trying his best not to show the pain on his face. After all, he’s being pinned against a steel stage barrier by most of the VIP section. Maybe throwing a bag of Mora on stage to grab your attention wasn’t the best idea he had in mind.

“Keep it? I can’t simply keep someone’s bag of Mora!” You look at Pantalone with wide eyes.

“Hey, if Pantalone says you can keep it, keep it. He already has too many Mora,” Capitano says nonchalantly, smiling underneath his helmet.

You smile at them sheepishly and shake your head. “No, no, no, it’s fine, really!” You said.

You gesture for Pantalone to hold his hand out. Pantalone complies and holds his right hand out in front of him. You place the bag of Mora on his hand, grabbing his fingers and wrapping them around the bag of Mora.

“There!” You said, smiling up at Pantalone, who looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks bright red.

You slowly release Pantalone’s hands and smile at him. Pantalone gulps and nods shyly, pocketing his bag of Mora.

“Lucky bastard,” Pantalone hears Pierro mutters jokingly.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]! I love you so much!! Please marry me!” Childe screams at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

You hear someone angrily protest, pushing the ginger man away and shoving the sign in front of you. “Don’t listen to him, my love! I’m your biggest fan, and I am more worthy of your love than this idiot!” Itto screams.

“Please notice me, [Y/N]! I collect every single one of your albums!” Aether screams from behind Itto, trying to shove his way toward you.

“Ignore these idiots; I’m your biggest fan and your most loyal fan! These buffoons are nowhere near my level!” Scaramouche hollers, hovering above you and the men below him.

You crane your head up to look at Scaramouche, who smiles down at you and caresses your face in his hands. Out of spite, Xiao smacks Scaramouche’s hands away from your face with a scowl on his face. You chuckle at them and shake your head.

“I’m assuming you,” you gestured to the twenty-five men in front of you, “are the ones I’ll be meeting backstage after the concert?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at them.

The twenty-five men nod their heads, cheeks flustered. They can’t believe it! You’re talking to them! You know that they exist in your world! They’re breathing the same air as you are and are face-to-face with each other! As much as they wanted to keep their cool, seeing you, their biggest idol and celebrity crush, in person is a whole new experience.

You smile at them. “Well, I look forward to meeting all of you after the concert! The security guards will be guiding you all backstage for the meet and greet,” you said.

In a trance, the men nod their heads, watching you walk back up the stage. Fans are tossing stuffed animals and flowers on stage, trying to get your attention after seeing what Pantalone has done. You chuckle and shake your head, looking over in the men’s direction.

“Oh my gosh, they just looked at us,” Heizou gasps, shaking the person beside him while refusing to take his eyes off you.

“We’re the luckiest fans out of everyone in the stadium; it’s official,” Venti says, crossing his arms over his chest with a big smile on his face.

When the concert is coming to an end, you stand in the middle of the stage and sigh sadly. After this concert, you’re not sure when the next show will be. This performance was the final concert of the tour all over Teyvat, and you did not want the moment to end. You have been touring all over Teyvat to perform in seven different regions. The final concert is held at a huge stadium that is built specifically for your concert alone. That stadium is located on an island outside of Mondstadt and Liyue but a few minutes out of Inazuma.

Because the concert is the final show of the current tour, many people from all over Teyvat traveled to this island just to see you perform. Even if it’s for one night, people are willing to travel far to see you perform your last concert until your next tour, which hasn’t been in the talks yet. The only thing your fans know, so far, is that you’re going to be releasing a new album soon and that you’re going to be making appearances on many shows.

“I don’t want this concert to end,” you sigh sadly into the microphone, sitting in the center of the stage. “I don’t want the fun to end, nor do I want to see you all leave,” you frown.

Loud cries and whines echo throughout the stadium, the fans expressing the same emotions as you. They didn’t want the concert to end and didn’t want to see you go down in the stage trapdoor, leaving them for who knows how long.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise,” You reassure the audience with a small smile, “I’m releasing a new album soon. Will you all listen to the new songs when they’re released?”

The audience screams, making you laugh and slowly stand up. You stretch your arms and sigh, walking over to the wooden stool, picking up a towel, and wiping your sweat. You have been performing for almost two hours, and now it’s time for you to wrap up the concert. You have a fan meet to do after, and you want to freshen up a little bit before meeting your VIP fans.

You said your goodbye while standing on the stage trapdoor, waving to the fans as the platform below you descended. You’re ushered to the dressing room to freshen up for the meet and greet with the twenty-five VIP fans you have spoken to before the concert ends. Emilia fixes your makeup while Yue restyles your hair, making sure the flyaway hairs and your baby hairs are flat on your head and not all over the place.

“You’re phenomenal, as always,” Emilia says, lightly squeezing your shoulders.

You smile at Emilia. “Thank you, Emilia. What do your niece and her parents think of the concert?” You ask, closing your eyes and letting Emilia lightly brush your under-eye with powder.

“They enjoyed your concert as usual,” Emilia grins.

You smile and press your lips into a thin line, trying your best to remain still while Emilia fixes your makeup to make you look put together. The concert is successful, as always. You’re glad that nothing went haywire on the last show.

“Are you excited to meet your fans? I saw you interacting with them before the concert ended,” Yue murmurs, putting more tinsel in your hair and brushing your hair.

You chuckle and nod your head, cracking your eyes open to look at Yue and Emilia. “I’m pretty excited to meet them! It’s nice chatting with them towards the end of the concert, but with everything going on, it was hard to hear what they’re saying,” you reply.

“Too many people trying to interact with you at once, or was it something else?” Yue asks.

You hum and lean back in the chair, reaching for the hand fan to fan yourself. You purse your lips and think for a moment.

“Yes, that would be one of the reasons. They were all piling up against this black-haired man with glasses, practically squishing him against the stage barrier,” you chuckle. “I feel bad for that happening, and I’m hoping to interact with all of them without any of them getting hurt or squished by the other,” you add.

“I don’t know, [Y/N]. Your fanboys…. They have familiar faces,” Emilia chuckles, applying lip balm on your lips. “A few of them are Fatui Harbingers, and others are diplomats or archons! Overall, these men are important figures of some sort,” Emilia says, gazing at you with wide eyes.

“Important figures as [Y/N]’s biggest fanboys!? Wow! You’re truly amazing, [Y/N]!” Yue squeals, jumping behind you with glee. “Would you, perhaps, date any of them?” Yue teases, wiggling her eyebrows at you cheekily.

You feel your face heat up at Yue’s question. You? Dating a fan? Does she not realize how scandalous that is? You turn to Yue and lightly bat at her arm.

“Yue! Me dating a fan is scandalous! Do you know how upset people will be if I start dating a fan of mine?” You ask, looking at the Liyuen woman with wide eyes.

Yue pouts and crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, come on, [Y/N]! You can’t be single forever! Plus, there are not many famous male idols in Teyvat. You usually see women that are given this sort of attention compared to the men,” Yue says.

You purse your lips and shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, Yue. I don’t think about dating much because of how busy I am with my career as an idol. Not only that, but I don’t want my significant other to deal with hate and tabloids,” you sigh, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

Emilia pats your head. “That’s fair, but you can’t be single forever. Especially when you have attractive fanboys,” Emilia jokes, poking you in the ribs lightly.

“How can you see their faces clearly when colorful lights were strobing in the stadium?” You ask.

“We ran into your fanboys before the concert began. You weren’t at the stadium yet. You were on your way here, and these men were searching around for a restroom, and maybe they were hoping to run into you, but they ran into us instead,” Yue explains, snickering to herself.

You chuckle and shake your head. The more you think about the fanboys you interact with during the concert, the more you become intrigued with them. Not going to lie; you’re kind of nervous about meeting them backstage. While they admire you and the things you do, you hope that the interaction wouldn’t make them like you any less.

To put it into perspective, you’re not much of a social person, and having to interact with almost thirty people after a huge performance is a bit nerve-wracking. Ironic, right? You performed in front of thousands of people, and yet you find interacting with twenty-ish people personally is more intimidating than performing in front of thousands of people. Maybe it’s because of your past interaction with a celebrity, but you don’t want your fanboys to be disappointed to see that you’re not the perfect idol they see on billboards, posters, TV shows, album covers, and magazines.

“And we’re done!” You hear Emilia say.

You blink and realize that Emilia and Yue are finished helping you freshen up. You get up from your seat and stretch your arms in the air, groaning. After this meet and greet, you’re going straight to the showers, and you’re going to take a nap right after.

“So, do I just wait here while the security guards assist the VIP fans to the meet and greet room?” You ask, grabbing the water bottle from the vanity.

Yue shrugs her shoulders. “You’ve been in the dressing room for a while. I’m pretty sure your fanboys are already in the meet-and-greet room,” Yue says, packing up the tools and cleaning the station around her.

“Aw man, I hope I didn’t keep them waiting for too long,” you mutter.

You quickly bid the two women goodbyes before walking out of the dressing room. When you step out of the dressing room, you see Alice and a security guard waiting for you outside of the dressing room. You give the two a brief smile before letting them know that you’re ready to meet the VIP fans.

While you, Alice, and the security guards were on your way to the room where the meet and greet was being held, the room was filled with chatter. Very loud conversations from your twenty-five fanboys.

“Take that off. You look ridiculous!” Diluc sighs, shaking his head at Kaeya.

Kaeya snorts. “Oh, please, brother. You’re wearing the same shirt as I am. Although, white doesn’t suit you at all,” Kaeya says, looking down at the shirt Diluc is wearing.

“Who designed all of [Y/N] concert merchandise? I want to speak to them and give them some advice on how to properly design merchandise without making it look tacky,” Ayato says, holding your concert t-shirt up with a neutral expression.

Thoma clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest, covering the concert t-shirt he’s wearing with his arms. “I agree with you, my Lord. Although, I believe the person should be fired instead, and a new merchandise designer should be hired,” Thoma says, scratching the apples of his cheeks awkwardly.

Kaveh sighs dramatically. “As much as I love [Y/N] and their flawlessness, I believe that their only flaw is hiring the designer,” Kaveh laments, tossing the t-shirt back on the pile of shirts on the table.

“Yeah, of course, you do. You say that while having another t-shirt stuffed in your back pocket,” Al Haitham snorts.

Al Haitham reaches behind Kaveh, yanks the shirt from Kaveh’s pants pocket, and waves it in front of the blond man with an eyebrow raised, the corner of his lips quirking up with amusement. Kaveh gapes at Al Haitham and begins to stutter out excuses.

Tighnari pats Kaveh’s back with a smile. “It’s okay if you like the shirt, Kaveh. People have different tastes in clothing. You don’t have to follow the crowd in hating the design of the merchandise,” Tighnari says.

“Exactly. I don’t understand why people would follow along with what others think. If you like something, then you like it. Don’t pretend to dislike something only because a group of people doesn’t like what you do,” Cyno says, walking up to Kaveh, Tighnari, and Al Haitham while wearing your concert merchandise.

Baizhu lets out a chuckle and props his hands on his hips. “I see that you’re trying to show others that you’re [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” said Baizhu, looking at Cyno from head to toe.

“I disagree. I’m [Y/N]’s biggest fan,” Gorou says, walking over to the group with various concert merchandise in his hands.

Kazuha pokes Gorou’s back. “I think you should get a bag for [Y/N]’s concert merchandise. We wouldn’t want you to drop them on your way out,” said Kazuha.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Xiao mutters, leaning on the edge of the merchandise table to stretch his aching legs out.

Dainsleif hums. “They can take as long as they like. They did perform for almost two hours and have to tolerate everyone crowding the barrier to talk to them,” Dainsleif says nonchalantly.

“And by crowding the barrier, you mean crushing me against the steel stage barrier because [Y/N] looked in my direction and talked to me,” Pantalone huffs, rubbing his lower abdomen where the steel barrier dug into while the twenty-four other men crowded around him just to get your attention.

Albedo shrugs his shoulders. “You sort of did that to yourself, Pantalone,” Albedo says.

Dottore snickers behind his hands before nudging Pantalone with his elbow. “He’s not wrong there, Pantalone. You tried to find a way to get [Y/N]’s attention, and you were successful! However, every action has consequences,” Dottore smirks.

“I don’t want to alarm anyone, but it seems like [Y/N] is about to make an appearance very soon,” Zhongli speaks up.

Everyone turns to look at Zhongli quizzically. Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before gesturing towards the entrance of the room. Everyone in the room falls silent; they can hear three pairs of footsteps approaching the room where the meet and greet is being held. Not only can they hear footsteps getting closer to the room, but the voices are getting louder the closer the footsteps get.

“They’re in this room, right?” The group of men hears you ask.

“Yes, the meet and greet are being held in this room!” They hear a woman say eagerly.

The door is opened by the security guard. The security guard makes eye contact with each man and nods his head before turning around to gesture for you to enter the room. The men in the room panic and begin to fix their clothes, making sure they look presentable. You walk into the room and smile at the men in front of you.

“Hello! It’s great to see you all again after the concert! Our interaction was cut short due to the concert and the concert coming to an end. I hope I’ll be able to talk with each of you without any interruptions,” you joyfully said, clasping your hands together in front of you.

Pierro smiles at you and bows at you, his right hand placed over his chest. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Your performance is flawless and enchanting, as always. I’m honored to be able to watch you perform live,” Pierro says, straightening his posture.

You giggle and tuck your hair behind your ears. Your little gesture made the others subtly raise their eyebrows, jealousy beginning to simmer inside of them.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the concert! It makes me incredibly happy to know that people enjoy the performance!” You said, smiling at Pierro.

“You needn’t worry about what people think of your performance. You’re a world-class performer, a very respected idol, and a huge inspiration and role model for all,” Capitano says gruffly.

You cover both of your flushed cheeks with your hands. “Oh, stop! You’re making me blush!” You said, covering your face.

Archons, can you get any cuter? You’re so cute! The way you cover your cheeks with your hands to hide the blush on your cheeks, you try to keep your professional facade while treating them like an acquaintance. However, they wish it was more than a fan and idol interaction); you speak to them casually instead of the conversation being tense and awkward.

“If you don’t mind me asking, have you eaten anything yet?” Zhongli asks.

You shake your head. “Not yet! But I will be getting something to eat after the meet and greet! Although I’m not sure where I’ll be going,” you trailed off, pinching the fat of your chin with your lips puckered.

“You don’t have to worry about that, [Y/N]. Mister Zhongli over here is generous enough to send a food stall to your concert for you personally. As the creator and founder of the biggest [Y/N] Fanclub of all of Teyvat, Zhongli is the one that sends the gifts, food stalls, and does many things for you and the fans,” Childe says, patting the funeral consultant’s shoulders with a big smile on his face.

Aether looks at Zhongli with wide eyes and points at Zhongli with an accusing finger. “You’re Interstellar Idol!? The one that is at every single fan event that is hosted for [Y/N]!?” Aether exclaims in disbelief.

“He’s also the one that goes all out when it comes to [Y/N],” Heizou whispers, staring at the flustered ex-Archon with wide eyes.

Itto raises his hand in the air. “Hold up! I thought he was broke! Like, borrowing other people’s Mora and never paying them back kind of broke,” Itto says, fiddling with his thumbs while looking at Zhongli skeptically.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “He’s not broke, Itto. Zhongli just forgets to bring his wallet,” Al Haitham corrects Itto, crossing his arms over his chest.

“As if that’s any better,” Kaveh mutters under his breath.

You stare at Zhongli with your mouth agape before making your way to the flustered archon. You stand in front of Zhongli, pointing at him. “You’re running my biggest Fanclub, did you know that?” You whisper.

Zhongli clears his throat and nods his head shyly, cheeks pink, the tips of his ears just as pink as the apples of his cheeks. You’re very familiar with the Fanclub called Interstellar Idol; they’re your biggest fanbase of all Teyvat. How can you not know them? They’re at every milestone of yours and have been at your side since the beginning of your career as an idol. If it weren’t for the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol, you wouldn’t be as known as you are now.

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” You whisper shyly.

Zhongli looks at you with wide eyes before slowly nodding his head. A big smile appears on your face, and you hug Zhongli, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Thank you for being there with me every step of my career. I appreciate the support, and I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you and the Fanclub, Interstellar Idol,” you murmur, looking up at Zhongli.

“Hey! I want my hug, tooooo!” Venti whines, stomping his foot on the ground playfully.

You pull away from the hug and laugh. “Alright, I’ll give each of you a hug or a handshake. It’s your choice! Then if any of you want to take a picture, or want anything signed, let me know after!” You said.

“Just to let you know, Zhongli may be the creator and founder of your biggest Fanclub; all of us,” Thoma gestures to the other men in the room, including himself, “are also well-known [Y/N] fanboys,” Thoma says proudly.

You prop your hands on your hips. “Is that so?” You ask, looking at them curiously. “Care to tell me what each of you does as fans of mine? I’m quite curious,” You said, tilting your head to the side.

Diluc clears his throat loudly. “Let’s discuss this later,” Diluc interjects, looking away with red blossoming on his cheeks.

Kaeya leans toward you while pointing his thumb at Diluc. “Diluc collects your albums and posters. However, he doesn’t have as many as I do,” Kaeya snickers behind his hands.

Diluc narrows his eyes at Kaeya and grabs him by the shirt collar, pulling him back. Kaeya looks over at Diluc with a smug smile on his face. Diluc’s face was almost as red as his hair after Kaeya exposed Diluc’s secret hobby to you, the biggest idol of Teyvat and their celebrity crush.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but Cyno writes fanfictions about you. His stories are very popular throughout Teyvat,” Tighnari whispers to you.

Cyno looks over at Tighnari, his eyes wide. “What did you say?” Cyno demands, stomping over to you and Tighnari.

“Oh, Cyno. There’s no shame in writing fanfictions! I used to write them myself as well,” you reassure General Mahamatra with a smile on your face.

Ayato looks at you with interest. “And who did you write about?” Ayato asks, raising an eyebrow at you in a teasing manner.

You gaped at Ayato and cleared your throat, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away from the Kamisato heir. There’s no way you’re going to expose yourself even more when you have already revealed your “secret” to the men in front of you.

“As you said earlier, there’s no shame in writing fanfictions!” Baizhu sing-song, smiling at you innocently.

You pucker your lips and shake your head. “We’re not close enough for me to expose my secrets even more,” you joke.

Dottore slides his arm over your shoulders. “I’m sure by the end of the meet and greet; we’ll be closer than ever for you to tell us who you wrote fanfictions of,” Dottore chuckles, smiling down at you.

You squint your eyes at Dottore and look at the other men. “We’ll see about that,” you stroke your chin.

You walk over to Xiao, who’s quietly observing you with curiosity. Despite being a massive idol in Teyvat, you’re still humble, and you interact with your fans like ordinary people instead of putting up a wall between you and your fans. You’re grateful for all of the support you have been receiving since day one of your career as an idol, and you continue to be thankful for your fans, your manager, and everyone around you that made your career happen.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, pulling Xiao from his thoughts.

Xiao blinks at you and clears his throat, the apples of his cheeks turning bright pink. “It’s nothing,” Xiao says.

You look at him curiously. “If it’s nothing, then how come you weren’t answering me when I called your name a couple of times?” You tease.

Xiao clears his throat, his face turning bright red. “You know my name?” Xiao asks, his eyes almost as wide as dinner plates.

“We told them your name,” said Gorou, giving Xiao a small smile.

Scaramouche sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t mind him. This is his first time going to your concert, and I think his mind is still trapped at the concert,” Scaramouche comments, a small smirk appearing on his face.

Kazuha shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, you can’t blame him for that. [Y/N]’s concerts are always mesmerizing and memorable,” Kazuha says, patting Xiao’s back.

Xiao hesitates for a moment, his face turning a darker shade of red. How is he going to talk to you when he can’t get the words out of his mouth? Xiao feels like he’s running out of time with you, and he wants to cherish every moment with you before having to deal with reality again. The reality of having to deal with his karmic debt, the reality of having to watch over Liyue, the reality of you being so far from him performing all over the world while he’s stuck in Liyue. Your music and your presence ease his mind and worries. Zhongli looks over at Xiao, a faint smile appearing on his face. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

“He’s a big fan of yours,” Zhongli says, placing his hand on Xiao’s shoulders.

Xiao’s face continues to grow hot; he nods and scratches the back of his neck shyly. You smile and press both of your hands over your heart.

“It makes me really happy to hear that you’re a fan of mine, Xiao! With every love and support I receive from my fans, I really do appreciate it. I appreciate each of you,” You said.

Alice walks up to you and stands beside you, locking gazes with Albedo. She smiles at him and nods to him. “Hello, Albedo! How are you doing, sweetheart? What do you think of [Y/N]’s concert?” Alice asks.

A small smile appears on Albedo’s face. “Hello, Alice. I’m doing well! I really enjoyed [Y/N]’s performance. Seeing them perform in person makes me realize why they earned the title ‘world-class performer,’” Albedo says.

Dainsleif nudges Albedo. “You know [Y/N]’s agent?” He mutters to the light blond-haired male.

Albedo nods his head. “You can say that she is a family member of mine. However, I see Klee, Alice’s daughter, as a little sister of mine. Alice insisted that I call her mother,” Albedo briefly explains.

Pantalone lets out a thoughtful hum. “Then that means you know [Y/N] before their career?” Pantalone asks.

“We’ve met a few times, but we barely spoke to each other because of how busy the chief alchemist is,” you answer. “It’s nice to see you again, Albedo. Thank you for coming to my concert. Your support means a lot to me,” you said.

Albedo gives you a shy smile and looks away, his face almost as red as Xiao’s face. You laugh to yourself before turning to the next person beside Albedo. Itto, who is wearing all of your concert merchandise with the sign in his hands and a bandana with your name on it wrapped around his forehead. When you make eye contact with Itto, Itto looks like he’s about to pass out right on the spot.

“I’m assuming you’re my biggest fan?” You ask.

Itto nods his head, gulping. “I love your music so much. I have posters of you all over my wall, I collect every album you have released, along with magazines you’re on the cover of, and I try to go as many fan meets as I can along with your concert,” Itto rambles.

Childe snorts and leans toward Zhongli. “Simp,” Childe mutters.

Zhongli rolls his eyes. “As if none of us are that as well,” Zhongli mutters to the ginger-haired Harbinger, nudging Childe.

“So, are you implying that Itto is a bigger [Y/N] fan than you?” Dainsleif asks, raising an eyebrow at Childe.

“Of course not! [Y/N] knows that I’m their biggest fan because I show up to every meet and greet they host throughout Teyvat! I also go to every single one of their concerts if I get the chance to go!” Childe huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Diluc rolls his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that,” Diluc snorts.

“If you’re confused, Diluc is implying that he’s a bigger fan of [Y/N] than you are,” Kaeya says, pointing his thumb over at Diluc.

Venti laughs and pops up between Kaeya and Diluc. “You may be a big fan of [Y/N], but do any of you make covers of their music? I don’t think so!” Venti huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Covering a song? What does that mean?” Ayato asks Thoma.

“Venti sings [Y/N]’s songs and posts them for people to see. I believe that Venti has a lot of views on each cover he has posted,” Thoma explains.

Venti props his hands on his hips with a proud smile on his face. Itto hands you a pen with shaky hands, asking you to sign the album he has brought with him. Itto would have you sign every album he has owned, but it would be too many, and Itto doesn’t think he can carry it all with him even if he makes Gorou assist him. You grab the pen from Itto’s grasp and begin signing the album. Your handwriting is elegant and legible; seeing you sign the album in front of his own eyes is a memory he will cherish forever. Speaking of cherishing memories, Itto quickly pulls his Kamera out from his bag and takes a quick picture of you signing the album.

“Itto! You just can’t take pictures of [Y/N] while they’re signing your album!” Gorou hisses, smacking Itto’s biceps.

“It’s okay! I don’t mind getting my pictures taken. After all, I am used to it,” you said, smiling at Gorou.

Gorou feels his face turn hot the minute you smile at him. Gorou covers the lower part of his face with his hand and looks away, his tail giving him away. You finish up signing Itto’s album and begin signing Itto’s sign that he brought to the concert. When he receives your signed album and his sign with your autograph on it, Itto squeals loudly and tackles you into a hug while blabbering about how much he loves you and how you make him so happy.

“Hey! Let’s not tackle [Y/N] into a bone-crushing hug now, Itto!” Baizhu says, laughing nervously as he tries to get Itto off of you.

Aether snorts. “Listen, Itto may have the abs, but he doesn’t have the biceps to crush [Y/N] and their bones,” Aether says, poking at Itto’s arms.

“I call dibs standing next to [Y/N] when we take group pictures!” Heizou announces, raising his hand in the air with a triumphant smile.

Kaveh lets out a loud scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can’t call dibs! It’s not fair for the rest of us!” Kaveh protests, glaring at Heizou.

“Yeah, Heizou. If you were to call dibs on standing beside [Y/N] in the pictures, it wouldn’t be fair for the rest of us,” Al Haitham says.

You chuckle and walk over to the center of the meet-and-greet room after Itto has released you from his hug. You watch the men debate on who should stand next to you (spoiler: all of them said themselves). In the end, you end up taking a bunch of group pictures because each man wanted to stand beside you in the picture, which you didn’t mind at all! They’re all hilarious and sweet about it, plus you didn’t really have anything else planned after the meet and greet other than get something to eat.

“I’m going to cherish this picture forever,” Tighnari says, staring at the film in his hands with a faint smile.

You feel your stomach growl; now that you think about it, Zhongli did say something about renting a food stall for you after the concert. Perhaps you can invite them to keep you company while you eat. Maybe they can get something to eat, too, since you’re unsure if they had anything to eat prior to the concert.

Before you can ask the men if they want to join you, you walk over to Alice and the security guard. You need Alice’s thoughts (and permission) first before inviting the men. Alice gives you a thumbs up, making you sigh in relief. You walk over to the men, who are still bickering over who should’ve been the first one to stand next to you in the group picture.

You tap on Cyno’s shoulders, grabbing the white-haired man’s attention.

“Do you guys want to join me at the food stall? I’m about to get something to eat, and I would like all of you to join me. If you’re hungry, you can get something to eat at the food stall, and if not, you can just hang out and chat with each other,” you said.

“I would love to!” Cyno says, smiling at you.

“We would love to keep you company,” Pierro says, nodding.

“I’m starting to feel famished, so why not?” said Scaramouche.

Kazuha holds his arm out for you to take. “Shall we go and get something to eat at the food stall?” Kazuha asks.

You link your arms with his and nod. “We shall.”

“Hey! I want to lock arms with them too!” You hear Childe whine.

You hear Capitano scoff. “Quit your whining, and let’s get something to eat,” Capitano says, looking at Childe.

You all walk to the back entrance of the stadium venue. Outside is a long line of food stalls rented by Zhongli for you to eat after the performance. There was so much food to choose from, and you’re not sure where to start!

“Zhongli, you’re a godsend,” you said, walking to the nearest food stall with excitement.

“It’s funny because he’s actually the Geo arch— Oof!” Childe groans when Zhongli elbows him in the gut with a straight face.

“I believe we should get food now,” Zhongli states nonchalantly, shooting a look over in Childe’s direction.

Childe pouts and nods his head before trailing after Zhongli while the others go to grab food from the stalls to eat. Usually, this isn’t how your meet and greets end, but a little change is nice sometimes. Who knew your career would take off so fast and land you in this situation, surrounded by your fanboys while eating food in each other’s company?

Note: I have another AU coming out next week! I have no idea why I've been getting a lot of AU ideas, but I think the upcoming AU should be the last one for now. Other than AUs, I do have some ideas for mini-fics as well and I'm really hoping I can type them out and get them posted. I've been busy with school and my winter schedule has been keeping me out of my house for hours until early evening 😵‍💫 This next part is copied and pasted; For those who want to be on my new taglist, here is the link to the taglist [Genshinluvr Updated Taglist Form]! Please make sure that you allow people to mention you/tag you in posts, or else I won't be able to tag you in any future fanfics! And as usual, I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @alhaitham-scribe, @xyji, @kazuhasmuse, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @kwelibeeery, @yumakj, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @honeybedo, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @living-my-best-life5, @chalksdreams, @rinswriting, @thelost-in-time, @mxn14, @ventisweetheart, @unwantedsleep, @kattythesimp, @hispasian-otaku, @Orah-s, @juuuuuj101010, @nxns3nse, @sickly-falling, @alteeeeyang, @wind1y, @wh0-ta0, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @HistoryNerd™️, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado (If your name has been crossed out, it means that your account did not show up when I try to tag your account. Please make sure to allow people to mention you and tag you in posts and make sure the spelling, symbols, and numbers are correct)

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