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#so happy to know him again even though the world is literally ending around them
davidtennan-t · 7 months
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This one little segment from the Giggle novel has my whole heart
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kirain · 5 months
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My favourite bit of BG3 lore is that Withers is legitimately responsible for the Dead Three, but he's probably too embarrassed to tell you, so every time you ask him to elaborate he just gives you a very stern, "Noooo."
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I also love that the reason he's responsible for their uprising is because he got bored. He literally got bored of his position as Lord of the Dead and wanted to retire, so when these three morally questionable humans came looking for godhood he was like, "Hmmm. Yes, okay. Here. Take my portfolios. Fight over them. I don't care. I quit."
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So after bowling with skulls in a friendly competition to decide who would get what portfolio, they took up his powers and wreaked havoc on the world. Only at that moment did Jergal, AKA Withers, AKA our precious Bone Daddy think, "I'm just now, internally, asking myself, in quite a worried way, whether I might've made an error."
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So he joins your merry band and watches your escapades, calmly twiddling his fingers while you clean up his mess. He's happy to lend his aid, even to the point that he'll bring Durge back to life if they reject Bhaal, even though he technically shouldn't. But he's Withers. The rules don't apply to him. If Ao doesn't like it, he can descend from the Heavens and say it to his rotting face.
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And the reason he saves Durge isn't necessarily because he likes them or because he's a morally good entity (though one certainly could make that argument), but because he wants to add insult to injury. He steals Bhaal's child with a big smile on his face, dubs them his Chosen, and praises them for rejecting all the power they were promised. But of course, he still doesn't tell them who he is—or rather who he was.
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Then, when all is said and done, he throws Tav and their companions a cute little party. No one knows it's probably half a thank you party and half a "Withers is bored again" party. And if anyone misbehaves, he'll get irritated and whisk them away. Because how dare they? He put a lot of work into that.
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And at the end of it all, he walks up to a mural of the Dead Three and basically goes, "Lmao. Thou didst fuck around, and thou didst find out." Just savagely roasting them.
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And then poof!
He waves them into non-existence.
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satoruxx · 8 months
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pairing: poly!sashisu x f!reader | 2k words summary: mentions of injuries, sashisu fluff, tiny bit of angst, pet names, shoko is literally wife, suguru is super touchy lol, satoru's a menace but he loves you, protective sashisu, extra protective satoru, shoko and satoru bicker for like half of this lol rheya’s note: offers you more of these three and runs away (sorry guys they literally won't leave my mind i swear they'd treat you so good)
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one look at shoko’s frowning face and you’re already nervous, squirming in place as she leans in close to inspect your body. you have to take a deep breath—because while normally her close proximity makes you flush and stumble over words, this time you are anxiously silent.
because you can tell that she is anything but pleased. her eyes are narrow as they take in the wound on your stomach, lips pursed like she’s holding back a scolding.
which you know, you definitely deserve.
she scoots her stool closer to the examination table you’re sitting on, fingers coming up to undo the makeshift bandage you had tied around your torso in the midst of the mission.
you try to hold back your wince as she pulls away the fabric that sticks to your blood, but she catches it. she’s always been overly observant.
you shake your head at her when her gaze flickers up to assess your pain levels. “i’m fine.” you don’t mean for your voice to come out so hurried.
“looks like it.” her voice lacks the usual warmth, normally so sweet as she teases and dotes on you like you’re the only thing in her world. but this, this disappointment that she’s not good at hiding, has something in your chest tugging.
you think you might go crazy if she doesn’t smile at you in the next few minutes.
“oh c’mon,” you shrug, laughing carelessly because it’s not that bad. “it’s fine. besides i have a great doctor. i knew i’d be okay.”
shoko takes a deep breath, honey brown eyes boring into yours when she looks up again. “listen to me—” there is something odd about the way she’s speaking that has you sitting up a little straighter. “this is the one thing i hate doing for you.”
your mouth clamps shut, any trace of a smile gone.
“hell babe, i’d do anything for you,” she sighs, leaning closer to your face—so close you can see her dark lashes brush her cheeks when she blinks. “but i hate hearing that i have to come down here and heal you.”
the intensity of her gaze has you chewing on your lip again, an action that her eyes follow. but she doesn’t say anything else, leaning back to continue her work—though there is a freer air about her, like a pressure has been released.
you don’t say anything either, too focused on her and her pretty eyes and her warm hands and the way she loves you.
you hear the sliding door to the infirmary open, and immediately feel a familiar overwhelming presence worming its way into the room.
“you serious?” satoru’s voice goes high at the end of the question—barely concealed panic. “what the fuck happened?”
you hold back a grimace knowing that his focus is only trained on your wound. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you offer weakly, but satoru is already in front of you, brows drawn tight in anger and something else.
“like hell,” he hisses, eyes darting between your face and body. “you almost died!”
“stop yelling at her.” suguru’s voice comes out exasperated as he enters, shooting satoru a weak glare—but you know him well enough to catch that he isn’t happy about this either. he takes a few steps until he’s directly in front of you, crouching next to shoko’s stool so that he’s in your line of sight. lavender eyes take you in, and you can see the the relief that seeps into them.
his palm comes up to gently hold your cheek. “okay baby?”
you’re nodding before he even finishes, doing your best to reassure because if there’s anything you hate it’s making him worry.
making them all worry.
suguru’s hand remains attached to your skin even as he turns to look at shoko. “how bad is it?”
shoko doesn’t look away, focusing on her hands as she sighs. ”it was deep. definitely could’ve been bad but…she’ll be fine.”
her eyes flicker up to yours, and you bite your lip nervously. you hear suguru inhale, fingers twitching against your cheek.
it is satoru who breaks the silence.
“what were you thinking?” he asks, low as he grits his teeth. there is a wild look in his eyes, cerulean glazed over with something you can’t quite place. the tone of his voice has shoko and suguru sharing a look, one that you don’t have the time to decipher because you’re too focused on the way satoru is clenching his fists.
your shoulders drop. “you’re mad.” it’s a statement, not a question, and you see the sharp look suguru sends satoru’s way.
“i’m not—” satoru inhales abruptly, interrupting his own words. “just—”
he stops speaking.
“he wants you to be more careful,” shoko fills the silence, still staring at your abdomen. “you can’t be careless like this.”
there’s a dip in her brows, one that matches the downward tilt of her lips. she doesn’t look at you, and you think you can feel the slight tremor of her hands as they press against your skin.
her expression has you unable to look away, feeling oh so cared for and protected under the warmth of her healing.
so you nod mutely, and almost cry in relief when you see the twitch of her lips as she finishes healing you. suguru chuckles under his breath, his empty hand lacing through your fingers and squeezing—a message that only you understand. “good,” he sighs, tilting his head fondly. “take care of yourself—at least for our sake, yeah sweetheart?”
shoko throws satoru a look even as he crosses his arms and glares at the wall, refusing to look at you. “that goes for you too, dummy!”
satoru’s head whips around to throw her an appalled glare. “i’m plenty careful!”
shoko wordlessly reaches out and tugs up his shirt, where you can see the faint remnants of a fresh battle scar. “didn’t i heal this for you not two days ago?” she rolls her eyes. “and the fact that you can heal it yourself is even worse.”
satoru pulls his shirt down and shoots her a glare that’s half a pout. “well maybe i wouldn’t be so bad at it if you were a better teacher!”
“like i’d spend my free time teaching you.”
“did you just wake up mean one day or were you born this way?”
“idiot. i told you—it’s fwoo, then hyoi!”
“what the hell does that mean, sho?!”
you watch the two bicker with a smile, and suguru looks down at you with a mirrored expression. “scared us a little there, baby.” he lowers his voice, palm sliding through your hair as he pushes a few strands back.
“didn’t mean to,” you grimace, leaning into his touch. “but it seriously wasn’t that bad.”
“i know,” he answers, eyes heavy with affection and fatigue and all the depth in the world. “we weren’t expecting it is all. we came back and nanami let us know what happened. satoru threw a fit y’know?”
you wince internally, knowing that it probably wasn’t very pleasant. “he did?”
“he’s an idiot but you should know he’s crazy about you, sweetheart.” suguru smothers an amused huff. “he stopped hearing anything after they said you were hurt.”
you don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because suguru’s smile widens like he understands. he always does.
“didn’t mean to make him worry,” you mumble, watching as shoko lazily punches at satoru’s gut, to which he dramatically groans even though he’s the one who had his infinity down for her.
“i know,” suguru grins, fingers brushing over your shoulder almost carefully. “he does too.”
you suppress a smile, feeling oddly grateful as you watch satoru whine and complain when shoko shoots sarcastic remarks at him.
something about all of this that makes you feel so blissfully comfortable.
“okay alright guys,” suguru finally sighs, shaking his head. there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice even as he shoots them an exasperated glare. “give it a rest.”
“she started it!” satoru says—indignant.
shoko huffs, rolling her eyes. “whatever.”
she turns back to you, gently cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip. “feeling okay, babe?”
“yeah,” you nod, feeling your skin warm under her touch. “feels a lot better.”
she stands up with a soft smile. “good. then you’re free to go.”
suguru exhales, his smile becoming a little more eased as he pushes your hair away from your neck. “that’s good. let’s go home then, yeah?”
you nod, starting to pull your shirt and uniform jacket back on. suguru steps away to give you room, standing next to shoko who nudges his shoulder affectionately.
“you know, i bet you do things recklessly just so that shoko can heal you,” suguru says to you—a teasing glint in his eyes.
you look up and grin, dramatically covering your mouth. “don’t expose me like that! i’ve been getting her attention like this for years!”
suguru laughs even as shoko shakes her head in amusement. “silly girl. you’re crazy.”
“you can’t blame me,” you shrug playfully, buttoning up your shirt. “it’s your fault for being such a good doctor.”
suguru squeezes shoko’s fingers in agreement, no doubt still lingering with the warmth of her technique. she laughs to herself, rolling her eyes fondly as she watches you finish getting dressed. “you should take a nice bath, babe.” she grins at you. “i can help you if the injury’s still a little sore.”
you nod and suguru smiles, slinging an arm around shoko’s shoulders. “good. then we’ll go back to the dorm and get it ready, yeah?”
you smile at them gratefully, no words needed, and they return the expression before heading out.
the echoing of the door sliding shut pierces the silence between you and the strongest. satoru is staring at the tiled floor like he’s about to kill it, shoulders drawn tight with tension.
you sigh, looking up at him almost meekly—so unlike your usual interactions. “you still angry at me, toru?”
you see the effort with which he exhales, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes just barely concealed by dark frames. he turns to take two full steps towards you, until he towers over your sitting form—and while most people would find it intimidating, you have always found satoru’s overwhelming presence to be a comfort.
his fingers reach up to push a strand of your hair away, deliberately tucking it behind your ear before his hand rests against your jaw. “‘course not,” he answers, voice low. his thumb traces over your jawline. “just panicked.”
“sorry.” you turn to press your lips against his palm, and you see his features soften.
he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your temple, an uncharacteristic softness that only you are privy to see. “‘s okay.”
“but you know i can take care of myself, right?” you ask him, almost imploringly because you have never wanted to look weak in front of someone who is so strong. satoru grins, eyes glinting with what almost seems like pride as he ruffles your hair.
“duh,” he laughs, taking your hands to pull you off the examination table. once you’re standing he slings an arm around your shoulders and presses his nose to your temple. “i’d be stupid not to. you’re crazy strong, y’know?”
you try to hide your pleased smile, even though you know that being acknowledged by him—by all three of them—will forever be what keeps you going.
“well at least you know,” you grin, and satoru rolls his eyes, fingers coming up to poke at your side.
“don’t get cocky.”
“look who’s talking!” you retort and he shakes his head, amused. satoru’s grip tightens imperceptibly, and you think yours does too, something telling you that you’ll never be able to let him go.
“c’mon sweets, let’s go get you that bath now, yeah? sho and suguru are probably waiting.”
you hum, a gentle smile tugging at your lips when you hear his words. you wrap your arm around his waist, leaning into him as he walks you back to the dorm—walks you home.
because that’s what the three of them are to you—home.
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Astarion Very Happy Ending
So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?
Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!
This is that reward:
Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.
It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.
The money also certainly helped.
That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.
Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.
It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.
No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.
But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.
But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.
It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.
He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.
Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.
One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?
And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.
Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.
He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.
You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.
Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.
Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.
"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"
But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.
Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"
Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.
What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"
You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.
Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.
You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.
You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."
Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...
"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"
You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."
What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.
He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.
Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.
You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"
He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"
But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"
Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."
You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.
He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.
Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.
That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?
Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"
You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."
If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.
"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."
He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.
It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.
It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.
"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."
He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.
You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."
He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.
"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.
He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.
And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.
It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.
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remlionheart · 6 months
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Split Decision
* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *
*:・゚✧*:・゚ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:・゚✧*:・゚
You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.
You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.
The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.
You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.
It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.
That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.
Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.
You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.
A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.
"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."
A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"
Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.
The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."
The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.
You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.
You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.
After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.
They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.
Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.
But you weren't going to settle for either.
As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.
Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.
You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.
The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.
A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"
"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."
But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.
A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"
"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"
Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."
"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."
It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.
"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."
"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."
Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."
"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.
He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.
A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.
You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.
"My room or yours?" You asked.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.
Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.
You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.
He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.
There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"
You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.
"Fuck."
It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.
Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.
Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.
"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."
"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.
Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.
"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"
His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.
"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.
"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.
He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.
You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.
You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.
"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.
"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.
"Can you bend over f'me?"
You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.
Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.
"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"
As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."
Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.
He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.
Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.
"Be easy on her," he warned him.
You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"
Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.
His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.
"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.
Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.
You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.
Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.
Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"
"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.
You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.
Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.
Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"
You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."
Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."
Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.
Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"
"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."
Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.
Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.
Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."
You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.
"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.
Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.
"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."
"Dazai, I swear to god -"
But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.
"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."
Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.
He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.
You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.
"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.
"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
786 notes · View notes
guppybibi · 2 months
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karasuno first-years with idol!reader for @twiishaa !!
✧┊ft. Shoyo, Kageyama, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi
❁ཻུ۪۪♡
❥ Hinata shoyo
Even way before dating you, he already had somewhat of an idea of what idols were, some terms and all of that. Mainly because Natsu kept playing and dancing along to the beat of random pop idol groups during her free time, who could blame her?
He didn't get all of the hype around them though, like c’mon–watching sports is just so much cooler!
Bros mindset literally changed when he was scrolling through his feed and saw your fancam, was literally shook.
If you told the past him that he was dating you, he'd just start flying away like a stray plastic bag.
Tries to be present to each and everyone of your concerts, if he isn't, he’s probably in an important match. He’d never miss the chance to see you sing your heart out for no absolute reason, that was absurd!
When he does attend your concerts, you can bet a horse that he’ll be the loudest person there. Someone brought a megaphone? He's louder than it, what, like he’ll let a mere megaphone beat him?
Fully dressed for the occasion, light sticks are in the air as he waved them. He feels so proud of you right now! (He isn't really happy about all the fanboys though..)
❥ Tobio Kageyama
Never really understood or got the hype about it, his sister stanned all sorts of groups. He first saw you on one of her posters, still all new to this ‘idol’ thing. He never really thought anything about it, you just caught his eye. Simple as that, you were basically a celebrity. It's not like he was..going to meet you or anything right?
But fate had to do something about it and let you two meet! Sometimes, he’s still in shock to be honest. He often forgets his girlfriend is a well known idol, so when the two of you get chased down on your supposed date you two are like..”Why are they chasing us?!” “I’m not wearing my sunglasses and hat!” “What?! Are you like a wanted criminal or something?” You hit the back of his head lightly for being such a dumbass.
Because of this happening too often, you two often just have indoor dates like movie nights or cuddle seshs! Your relationship is pretty lowkey and private too, you may be an idol but everyone has their own lives.
Tobio may not cheer as loudly and boldly compared to the other people at your concert, but your heart knows that he's your #1 supporter.
❥ Yamaguchi Tadashi
Secretly is the biggest fan of your group, only Tsukki knew about it and it should stay that way. He didn't want to risk getting bullied yet again..
But if you told him that he'd end up dating you, his literal bias, he’d combust on the spot.
He probably doesn't remember how it even happened, just internally so happy about it. Like he's basically your biggest fan!
Literally attends every single concert you have, doesn't care if he's busy or whatnot. It's basically a win-win situation for the both of you so why skip on it?
May not cheer as loudly compared to the other people there but that didn't matter, you knew he was admiring you. Too stunned to speak as he watches you perform.
The only thing he's bothered about is the paparazzi..yeah, that was self explanatory. No one likes the paparazzi, not when they keep disturbing your daily life.
❥ Tsukishima Kei
Doesn't care about these idol pop groups or whatever, he knows you exist but then again, you're just a regular girl who happens to perform for other people.
Little did he know he’d end up with you, an idol from a pretty famous group. If you told him that he'll just scoff and walk away without a care in the world.
Doesn't admit that he goes to every single one of your concerts, but you do know he's ‘secretly’ hiding in one of the crowds. Watching you intently to make sure you're safe and enjoying yourself.
Like everyone else, DESPISES the paparazzi. Got so pissed one time because they disturbed his ‘romantic’ date with you that he flipped them off, which left you cackling as you tried to find a place more private.
212 notes · View notes
happy74827 · 1 year
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No Ordinary Life
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[Sam Riordan x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: The group had almost ran out of options on what to do with Sam, but Andre had decided there was still one more option to explore. And that option, was you. (GIF credits: @heronamedhawks)
WC: 1,179
Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst
We don’t know much about Sam as of right now, but I do know I would literally die for this boy. He and Emma really deserve the world, and they fr better have their happy ending (which seems impossible given the universe they live in, but one can hope). This definitely deserves a part 2, depending how well it goes, but for now enjoy the purity that is Sam.
Edit(2023): Hey I finally made the part 2, check it out here
『••✎••』
As Sam walked down the bustling halls of Godolkin, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. All around him, kids with extraordinary powers, kids like him, were chatting, laughing, and walking to their classes. They were able to use their gifts freely and openly, and they were respected by others for it, but Sam didn't have that luxury. Honestly, he couldn’t remember a time that he did.
All he remembered was the woods, his brother, and the constant pain of being hunted.
His hand unconsciously traveled to top of his head, pulling the hoodie that Emma had lent over to him farther over his face as he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn't easy when the hallway was completely crowded by nosy students, but he did his best. That’s all he could really do.
Emma and Marie (as he found her name to be) were by his side, protecting him for the skewing eyes of others. For the most part it worked, except it drawn more attention to her due to that odd system that Emma had acknowledged him about. A rating, whatever that was.
It was cool to know that his brother had been ranked number one, though.
If Luke was still… No, don’t think about it, Sam.
He shook his head, ridding himself of that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on the past, and thinking about his brother wouldn’t change anything. He was gone, and Sam was left alone.
His thoughts were interrupted by Jordan, who he was still slightly confused about. He? She? They? They seemed to have been good friends with his brother and they were friendly enough, so Sam didn’t really question the matter too much.
Plus, he kinda enjoyed the subtle sarcasm that Jordan would once in a while use. It made him feel like a kid back in school. So for that, Sam was thankful.
“Dude, this has got to be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” Jordan had said, turning to the guy walking besides them… Andre. Sam didn’t know what to make of him, or anyone really. He had always been so closed off from other people, that now it was almost a bit overwhelming.
But at least he had Emma, so he didn't have to worry about the social aspect too much.
Andre gave Jordan a sideways look, a small smirk on his face. He seemed pretty chill too.
“Listen, I don’t like this anymore than you do, Jordan,” Andre stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But with everything happening, and with Cate… this is our best option.”
“Yes, let’s bring the kid with a bounty over his head into the place where they’re all going to be looking for him. Great idea, Andre. Seriously, how did I not think of it first. Soooo smart of you, dude. Good job. I'm so glad we're friends, really I am.”
Jordan rolled their eyes, and Andre just looked away in annoyance. Then, to Sam’s dismay, an awkward silence fell over the group. Once again, Sam was struck by just how different his life was now. It was like he was suddenly thrown into another world, and he had no idea how to function in it. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see the zone.
Sam glanced over to Emma, and saw her smiling encouragingly at him. He tried his best to return the gesture, but he felt like his face muscles were going to fall off if he forced them any longer.
After what seemed like hours, but really only a couple minutes, Andre halted in front of a random dorm room door, and turned to face the group. He sighed, his face set into a look of grim determination. Then, he knocked.
Three times, Sam counted. Three knocks.
The door opened almost immediately after, and the man who answered had to be the most handsome human being Sam had ever seen. He had short black hair, a sharp jaw, and a dazzling smile. It was actually kind of intimidating.
“Whadda’ want?” the man asked, his voice a rich baritone. Sam didn't know why, but it felt like the man was judging him. His eyes scanned over the group, lingering on Sam for just a second, before returning back to Andre.
Andre cleared his throat, a bit nervously, but he didn’t get a chance to speak as Jordan scoffed, shoving past the man and into the room. Emma followed, giving the man an apologetic look as she did. And thus, everyone followed, leaving the man alone and bewildered in the doorway.
Once everyone was settled inside, the man shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Andre, his eyes burning holes through his head, but Sam didn’t pay any attention towards him anymore. All his eyes were on the strange girl in front of him, you.
You were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face. Your eyes were half lidded, and you seemed to be lost in your own little world. Andre had mentioned you, a little. Said that you were the person he had called earlier, that you would help them figure out what to do with Sam, and that you knew and could a lot of stuff. But he had never told them how gorgeous you were.
Your hair was down, and looked so soft that Sam just wanted to touch it, run his fingers through it, and feel the texture. You had a cute little button nose, and a round, chubby face that was just too adorable. And your eyes were so expressive, a mixture of colors that swirled and shone and sparkled in the light.
Andre had called your attention and you snapped out of it, blinking a few times before glancing up at him. It was then that you noticed the others, and you stared at them all, wide eyed and open mouthed, but that was quickly replaced with a smile.
“Hi, Andre! Wow, you must be Jordan… Marie… and Emma? Right? Oh, and you must be the kid Andre talked about, oh my gosh. It's so nice to finally meet you all. Sorry I didn’t say anything when you came in, I was just finishing up this thing for Kota. Oh, Kota! You're still here… hi. Wait, why are you all here? You weren’t supposed to be here until 2:00, and it's only-”
You looked down at the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening even more when you realized the time. You had been talking so fast that no one had been able to get a word in edgewise, but you had managed to finish what you had to say, and it was all so rushed that it was hard to keep up.
The only thing Sam could focus on was how despite all of that rambling and mumbling, you were still keeping that bright smile that never seemed to falter. A truly happy supe? He never thought it would exist. Even Emma, as sweet and pretty as she was, tended to falsify the smiles she had. Sam only saw her real one about three times. He cherished them, of course. Every single one.
You stood up, brushing yourself off and fixing your clothes, and walked over to them. Your hand was outstretched, and your smile was radiant. Sam could practically feel the happiness radiating off of you.
You looked so innocent, so sweet and pure. He could hardly believe that you were a supe, but the fact that they were all standing here said otherwise. You had power, and you knew how to use it.
Jordan and Marie seemed to have recovered from their daze, and the two shook your hand after Andre. Marie had even introduced herself, and it ended with you in giggles, telling her that you already had known her name.
Emma was next, and she had taken your hand immediately and shook it.
Then it was just him that was left.
He stood frozen, staring down at your outstretched hand. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and he just knew that his hood was starting to slip.
His instincts were yelling at him, screaming at him to run. To get out of there and stay far, far away from you. From everyone.
But he couldn’t.
So, instead of fleeing, he slowly, cautiously took your hand in his. It was small, warm, and fit perfectly.
You smiled again but this time it was strictly for him, because of him, and it made his heart beat just a bit faster.
He didn’t even realize it until your smile has widened, but he had pulled down his hood, letting you see his face. He didn't understand why he did, and a part of him wanted to pull the fabric right back over his face, but it was too late now.
The damage had been done.
Sam didn’t have a chance to scrape off the dried blood off his cheeks, another result of an accidental outburst, and he could feel your eyes rake over his face, taking in every single detail.
But it wasn’t judgmental, or critical.
No, there was something else in those swirling eyes of yours, and it was then that he noticed the little flecks of gold hidden in the sea of color.
Sam was a bit embarrassed, to say the least, and he tried to pull his hand away but your grip only tightened, and he didn't have the strength to resist. He felt your hand go up his arm, unraveling the hoodie that clung to him like a second skin.
The others didn’t seem to do anything as you pulled the material above his elbow.
Your eyes roamed over the scar that stretched across his forearm, and he knew what was coming before the words even left your mouth.
Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you as you asked the dreaded question, and his eyes were glued to the floor.
It was Emma who answered, her voice barely a whisper.
Sam despised the pity in your tone. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied. He didn't need or want anyone's pity. He was fine. Everything was fine.
The silence shattered as you took a sharp breath, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look at you. Not when he knew the look of pity in your eyes.
You released his arm, the hoodie dropping to the ground, but Sam didn't even register it. He stood there, frozen, as you slowly reached out your hand towards his face.
"Before I do anything, I want to warn you so it doesn't scare you. Is that okay with you? I just... I want to make sure you're alright. But if you don't want me to touch you, I won't. I'll respect your boundaries. Just tell me, okay?"
Sam blinked, his head tilting upwards, his eyes wide with surprise. There was no pity in your eyes. No negativity or degradation. Only a gentle concern and kindness that he had only experienced in these past few days.
Your touch was tender, and he felt a warmth spread across his face. He couldn't bring himself to deny you. So he nodded, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was still a smile, but a different kind. One he had never seen from you before. And once again, that smile was meant just for him.
Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed, capturing Sam's attention. He hadn't noticed before, but the entire room was filled with interconnected lights, forming a grid-like pattern. They began to glow, pulsating and shifting with each passing moment. The light danced across the walls, creating mesmerizing shapes.
Sam was captivated by the whole process. And then, the lights suddenly stopped, freezing in place. Sam expected them to return to their normal brightness, but they grew brighter and brighter. It was then that he noticed your hands. They were no longer touching him, but rather, they hovered above him, palms facing his face. A peculiar expression settled on your face.
Sam didn't know what it meant, but he didn't have time to wonder because, in an instant, your hands transformed into light. It wasn't like beams shooting out of your palms, but rather, golden particles that flowed around your body and traveled along the lights, intensifying their brightness. Patterns began to form and move.
Sam watched in awe as the shapes transformed into pictures and scenes. The colors melted and shifted together. Light filled the room, washing away the world around him, leaving only the vibrant colors, the images, and your face.
Your face, so close to his. The smile still adorned your lips, and your eyes shone like stars, the brightest things in the room. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted that the light was beautiful, just like you.
It was the most extraordinary sight he had ever witnessed. It was as if the sun had exploded, its light spreading across the room. The colors danced along the walls, forming vivid images. Sam saw a field, a house, a family. He saw his old friends. He saw him. His brother, Luke.
Sam's face crumpled, and a sob escaped his throat. Tears blurred his vision, but they were absorbed by the light, vanishing as soon as they fell. You remained a silent observer, watching over him as the colors gradually faded, and the world returned.
The room was as bright as before, but everything was the same. Sam could still see the concern and worry etched on your face. You reached up to wipe away his tears, but this time he flinched back, and the contact never happened. Your hands fell to your sides.
Tears welled up in your eyes, and your lips trembled, trying to hold back your emotions. But a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Andre cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Both you and Sam turned to face the others.
They were all watching, expressions of shock and confusion on their faces, except for Jordan, who wore a mask of indifference.
Andre and Emma stared at you, mouths agape, while Sam saw the tears in your eyes, the fear evident on your face.
Of what, he couldn’t tell. As of right now, there were so many things you could be scared of. With The Woods, being the thing that contains most of it all, It was hard to pinpoint one specific reason.
Then, just like before, Andre's voice cracked as he decided to interrupt Sam’s thoughts.
"What the hell was that?"
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 2 years
Note
Sagau but the reader has a dragon tail and is a
They're very serious looking and only make a very intimating looking.
But the moment someone compliments them they get flustered and just tells them to move on.
But everyone witnesses their grace's tail wagging.
Lisa, kaeya or childe would definately tease them.
Sorry if my grammar is bad, english isn't my strongest language.
Dragon!Reader: Looks Serious But is A Softie?! 👀
Okay, first of all: the fact that you're a dragon to begin with? I'm pretty sure Liyue just got a huge promotion. Their archon is a literal dragon! Their Divine Creator blessed their Geo Archon with the wrath that challenges the gods he faced in the Archon War!
Honestly, Zhongli would be amazed to know that the Creator is a dragon themself. Would legit admire you and see you as their idol or something.
Oh, but this is just the start. You were helping Sara at good hunter to collect some meat because you were bored. She greatly compliments your efforts, and you try to brush it off, play it cool. It would've worked if it hadn't been your darn traitorous tail wagging like a happy puppy behind you, showing the world the unnecessary fact that you were flustered.
With this in mind....guess who told Lisa, Kaeya, and Childe...
(Quick Disclaimer: Might Be OOC!)
Lisa
The moment she heard the little incident at Good Hunter, she just had to try it herself! In a respective manner of course—she wouldn't dare nor want to do something that'll make the Creator angry! Just a little tease—surely, the creator won't be too mad?
She will probably invite you to help in the library, sorting out books or double checking the list of checked out books, making sure their not overdue.
When you're done the task, what happens, you may ask?
"My, thank you so much for your help, Your Grace~ You surely have a sharp eye even for such minor chores..." She says this with that teasing glint in her eyes, and most importantly: that smirk when she's being very sussy flirty.
The moment she sees the way your tail flaps around behind your back as your impassive face responds with something casual, this woman knows she's hit the jackpot.
"Aw...Your Grace, you truly are very adorable."
Kaeya
This man might be just as bad as Lisa, except much more sly than—ahem, flirty.
His excuse of seeing you becoming the big softie of a dragon was to ask you, of all things, to visit the gosh darn tavern for a drink or two. And, to his delight, you agreed.
It was also a good thing Charles was manning the tables tonight, because Diluc would give him the death glare for bringing someone such of high importance to get wasted with him.
But naturally, and as Kaeya suspected, you're persistence to help your people took over, and you instead spent half of the night helping Charles clean the tables. So, naturally, when Charles insists you relax, Kaeya's gotta compliment you.
"Your Grace, you sure do know how to keep things organized. That much is to expected by someone as high as you, though—must've been a piece of cake." You confirm that it was, but even with the that, your draconic tail does that little dance behind your back for the whole world to see how happy you were to be complimented for your hard labors.
This man will CHUCKLE at the sight, but won't comment on it. But he will give you that smirky smirk with THE eye that says it all. You groan into your palms again—your tail really seems to like betraying you, honestly.
"What, Your Grace? Don't be so shameful about yourself—honestly, I quite envy how cute you are." Get red-faced, bois. This captain will make you flustered till the end of your days.
Childe
The moment he hears about the incident in Mondstadt by his gossiping Fatui Agents, man's just got to try it.
So, he does the most logical, least-suspecting thing to request your presence: challenge you to a fight.
Yes, the others called him crazy for it, but does this mad lad care? Nope! This guy wants to see your tail flap in joy, that's all! Besides, it's not like he sees it often since Zhongli hides his draconic traits from the whole wide world.
So you accept the invitation to spar with him, and—do I need to tell you? You guys sparred for a good few hours. Unlike in-game playable Childe, you now have to deal with more of a in-game Boss-like Childe instead, with how many moves this guy has.
After a good sparring match or two, you guys decide to take a break. Mainly you, since you are legit dying right now.
"Good job, Your Grace! Your combat skills are as great as ever! Much expected, haha!" Yep, he delivers what his true intention is. And yes, your tail does the little dance it does, no matter how much you try to calm it and shrug it off as a daily thing to get used to.
This mad lad, like a true mad lad would, would grin. Very widely. He knows he won this "battle"—man is ecstatic about it.
But he is a little sympathetic if you act annoyed about it—it reminds him of what his younger siblings would do. If you're really upset about it, he'll try to cheer you up.
Look out for more sparring matches, he's probably pulling this stunt until you're immune to such things or you get your tail under control.
"Don't be upset, Your Grace! I'm sure if my little brother were here, he would find you cool no matter what!"
Aaandd that's it! The end of the headcanons! Hope y'all enjoyed—see you around! :)
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Legit the moment I open up tumblr, and I realized I made it to 100+ followers, I nearly screamed LOL. Did not expect to make it this far. Thank you all so much!
I now have an info page, if you wish to request :) Be sure to follow the rules and all that—oh, and it might get updated sooner or later. We'll see how it goes.
Check The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!
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rebelspykatie · 2 years
Text
It’s funny that anyone would think that Steve and Robin aren’t platonic soulmates when they’re canonically attached at the hip.
Steve has a whole conversation with Robin that’s loaded with inside jokes as he literally ignores his date at the basketball game.
They follow each other around the video store talking about their love lives where they make reference to stealing each others jokes, wishing they could combine into one person with both of their skill sets, and regularly picking movies to watch while they work (and knowing their interests in movie genres).
Steve wakes up early to pick Robin up for school before he has to go to work, even though there’s several hours between that and when they open. He also doesn’t know that Robin can’t drive, so he’s obviously just been chauffeuring her around no questions asked. He was already doing this at the end of season 3 for their job interview.
This all started in season 3, but was solidified in that final scene where they’re going after jobs together, spouting off to potential employers about their best qualities to land the job. Robin has clearly had time to warm up to Steve and jokes with him about his resume and with Keith about Steve’s terrible taste in movies, but excellent taste in women.
During that drive to school in season 4, they talk about both of their love lives, in which they reference an off screen conversation where Robin gave Steve advice to just be himself and girls would like him more, the same advice he’s giving Robin for wooing Vickie.
They openly talk about Vickie throughout season 4, so clearly there’s no shyness or residual awkwardness from the coming out or Steve’s former crush on her. In fact, it appears to have made them even closer. See: the boobies conversation in episode one.
They’re close enough that Dustin has obviously mocked Steve for not dating Robin repeatedly after the events of Starcourt. They have that platonic with a capital P speech down pat. They joke twice about being in charge of the kids together, once when Dustin and Max barge in to search for Eddie and they joke about taking turns strangling the little idiots and then again when they get on the boat about bedtime’s at 9 kiddos.
Both joke and poke fun at each other. Robin makes fun of Steve’s protective streak with the whole ‘unless you think us ladies need you to protect us’ comment. Steve makes fun of Robin snooping in Nancy’s room and jokes about her not giving off an academic scholar vibe. Steve jokes about wanting to punch her in the face when she won’t stop rambling about rabies. Steve teases her about her muppet joke working because he’s the one who made it up. Robin’s previously teased him about how many children he’s friends with, not knowing he’s protecting them from supernatural horrors.
By the end of season 4, we find out that they both had issues learning to walk. They both think their romantic interests are doomed. They give each other the same advice.
They always gravitate towards each other, especially when they’re in danger, always in the same group. Robin clutching at Steve and making sure he’s okay after Eddie held the bottle to his throat. Robin jumping in directly after Nancy when Steve got sucked into the watergate. Robin moving behind Steve in the upside down when the bats were coming at them because she knew he’d protect them (actually everyone goes to stand behind him). Robin crying out for Steve first when the vines snatch her. Steve finding Robin to grab the supplies for the Molotovs and then chasing after her when Vickie kisses that boy.
Any time we see people break off into groups, they’re together. Paired up to discuss end of the world strategies and their unrequited love lives. Team search for Eddie. Team keep Eddie safe and hidden. Team destroy Vecna. Always the same team.
Steve encouraging Robin, even after the incident with Vickie in the store because he doesn’t want them to give up on love. Him being so happy to see her flirting and chatting with Vickie at the school. Robin comforting him when Nancy runs into Jonathan’s arms.
If you’re watching all of that, I don’t see how you could come away with anything less than them being platonic soulmates. They’re practically finishing each others sentences while they bounce one brain cell back and forth between them.
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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 5 months
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can you do headcanons of izana's little sister dating chifuyu in secret or something and the way he found out is that on their anniversary he bought her flowers and a stuffed animal and she came back home with the gifts giggling so he and kakucho went to her school and saw them doing cute little couple stuff??
Ok so this kinda ended up being a bit of a different format then normal, I got a bit carried away with this one! But here is Chifuyu secretly dating Izana's little sister!
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In hindsight maybe you had made a mistake, hiding your relationship with Chifuyu was no easy thing but normally you were so careful. Always sneaking around with him and carefully hiding from your protective older brother and his friends. It's not that you don't appreciate your brother but you're not a little kid anymore and you can make your own decisions now.
Chifuyu is such a sweet guy too and cares about you a lot. You met him through toman, the gang your older brother joined. Izana was too worried about you to leave you home alone so he took you with him to the gang meeting, giving strict instructions to his past tenjiku members to watch out for you. There was no point though because no one in toman even tried to talk to you at first, too scared by Izana glaring at all of them anytime they dared to look at you. It wasn't until the end of the meeting, when you managed to distract the Haitani brother's and slip away from them that you actually got a bit of freedom.
Only for you to immediately stumble on a tree root and go tumbling towards the ground. But instead of falling onto something cold and hard, you fell into something warm and softer. Opening your eyes, you found yourself staring into pretty turquoise eyes looking worriedly at you.
"Are you hurt?"
Just like that you quite literally fell for him. And judging by the blush covering his cheeks, he felt the same way. He'd later tell you about how it was a moment straight out of the manga he reads and how he was instantly hooked on you. 
The moment didn't last long though, as you heard Izana calling for you so you ran off before he could catch the two of you together. Chifuyu never even got the chance to give you his name or hear yours. 
The next morning you went to school but wasn't concentrating like normal, instead you couldn't stop thinking about your encounter with that mystery guy and how much you wanted to see him again. And then there he was, standing right in front of your class and getting a lecture from the teacher about being late. You couldn't believe your luck, he was in your class this whole time! The two of you had a happy reunion after class and things developed from there. But you were always adamant that Izana and his friends could not know, he'd kill both of you for sure. 
But that afternoon you messed up, it was your one year anniversary with Chifuyu so of course you were both excited. So excited that you forgot to hide your gifts when you got home, instead you came in giggling and looking at them happily. Not a care in the world and certainly missing the curious gaze of your older brother.
-
Izana noticed immediately. He frowned and raised his eyebrow at the gifts, exchanging a look with Kakucho who was sprawled out on a dining room chair. Neither one of them said a word. Of course Izana could've just asked you, but he already had a feeling that you'd been hiding things from him. And now that your guard was down, he wasn't about to raise it back up again. Instead he waited for you to go to your room before coming up with a plan to follow you to school tomorrow.
They would finally get their answers. 
The next morning, they waited until you were in class to sneak themselves in. Watching you during class was pretty boring, though Izana was pretty proud when you answered a difficult question correctly. They figured they would get more answers during lunch instead, so they climbed up onto the roof to get a good spot to watch you from, completely ignoring the guy taking a nap up there. 
-
Lunch time rolled around and of course you went to grab yours so you could eat with Chifuyu. Sitting innocently together on a wooden bench, the two of you chatted about your days so far. You were just in the middle of getting into a rant about how Ran keeps stealing your expensive shampoo every time he visits when Chifuyu slightly coughs. You turn towards him with a confused look, wondering why his cheeks had gone bright red.
"Ah I was just wondering....well I made this bento this morning and wantedtoknowifyouwantedtotrysome!!??"
Blinking, you manage to decipher what he was asking and nodded. You were expecting him to pass it over to you but instead he nervously held the chopsticks out to you, trying to feed you. Gulping, you tuck your hair behind your ear and lean in, about to take a bite when you hear the loudest shout you've ever heard. It even makes Chifuyu flinch, making him drop the chopsticks to the floor. 
You both look around, trying to figure out what's going on when you see them. A murderous looking Izana and frowning Kakucho, staring down at the two of you from above. 
Cursing, you grab Chifuyu's hand and start running, ignoring the second shout that ran out as soon as you grabbed Chifuyu's hand. You have no idea where you're running too but there's no time to think as you're sure Izana and Kakucho are right behind the two of you. Luckily for you, Chifuyu seems to have an idea and took his bike to school that morning. Lifting you onto the back of his bike before jumping on himself, the two of you speed away. 
But your peace is short lived as you turn and immediately notice Izana and Kakucho riding a few cars back behind you. You vaguely wonder what Chifuyu's plan is here but you trust him, so you just cling to him and hope for the best. 
You soon turn up in front of a house, a house you recognise as belonging to toman's president, Sano Manjiro. Chifuyu grabs you and practically runs to the front door, frantically banging on it and shouting that he's under attack. The door slowly creaks open, revealing Mikey standing there thoughtfully chewing on a taiyaki. He quickly swallows the taiyaki and simply asks "who?" 
Izana chooses this exact moment to show up, causing Chifuyu to grab your hand and pull you behind Mikey. Narrowing his eyebrows, Izana tells Mikey to step aside. Instead Mikey just stares at Izana and refuses to move, the tension in the air grows thicker as the two brother's stare each other down with Kakucho and Chifuyu also glaring at each other. You step forward to get between them when suddenly you're all interrupted. 
"Oi oi if it ain't the toman babies, we're here to take you guys down!"
A horrible time for a rival gang to attack.
Mikey and Izana quickly nod between them, coming to the agreement to take these guys out first, then they can deal with your situation. 
"Step back"
Those are the only words Izana says to you before everything turns to chaos. Izana, Mikey, Chifuyu and Kakucho attack the guys easily as you watch on. Really these guys were no match for them, even if there were more of them. 
-
Frustrated at losing, one of the guys quickly turns his attention to you instead. If he can't physically beat toman then he'll just have to hurt them in other ways. Brandishing a switch blade, he runs at you. You yell for help as you notice the guy run at you and it's like time slows down for Izana. He's too far away from you to get there in time, all he can do is run, knowing that he won't make it and that his baby sister is about to get stabbed. 
-
You throw your arms up to try and protect yourself but the blade never even touches you. Hesitantly opening your eyes, you find yourself glancing into turquoise ones.
"Are you hurt?" 
Chifuyu had managed to tackle the guy and knock him out before he could get to you. He had saved you, again. You shake your head and tightly hug him, thanking him for everything.
"Maybe you're not so bad after all"
Glancing up, the two of you are surprised to find Izana holding out his hand for Chifuyu to shake. Chifuyu hesitantly clutches Izana's hand, wincing as Izana tightens his grip.
"But if you ever hurt my sister you're dead"
Quickly nodding, Chifuyu agrees. You know he'd never hurt you anyway. Smiling at your brother and your boyfriend, you know that life will be easier now that you can finally stop hiding.
Meanwhile
Mikey frowns as he notices everyone else talking while he's still fighting this gang. You all definitely owe him a taiyaki for this.
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captainkirkk · 7 months
Text
✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
Miraculous Ladybug
Open My Eyes by buggachat
Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was.
(Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.)
(But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.)
“And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?”
(Adrien has some things to find out.)
DC
the good, the bad, and the power hungry by konan_konan
dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・8hr if one more person tweets about #superlex unironically im gonna end it all 391K Views | 200 Retweets | 13 Quote Tweets | 22.1K Likes
j-son of a bitch ☑ @jsntdd・8hr ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo hurr durr these are the consequences of ur actions bitch 201K Views | 109 Retweets | 4 Quote Tweets | 18.4K Likes
or: lex luthor makes bad choices. and then, so does everyone else.
call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu
Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.
This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.
Just a bank account, even.
how big, how blue, how beautiful by merils
Kon-El is not good with medical settings. One could even say he's quite bad with them. How bad, exactly?
Well, let's put it this way: Very few things in the world can make him scream for Superman to save him.
(Superman will save him. That's what family's for, right?)
Clone Wars
The Kenobi Chronicles by WobblyCat
General Kenobi isn't actually dead. Someone should really tell that to his troopers, though.
Or: The clones under General Kenobi's command have a groupchat dedicated to him. Cody wishes his subordinates weren't so fucking stupid.
SVSSS
Shen Yuan's Forced Shen Qingqiu Redemption Arc by SpicyReyes
The System's OOC function won't unlock all at once - instead, character traits have to be added individually, through quests. This leads to Shen Qingqiu having to jump through endless hoops just to complete enough side quests to unlock the ability to be a decent person - all while avoiding the effects it has on those around him. If only the cheapskate System wouldn't keep changing the cost of point values - he needs to know what the hell Yue Qingyuan told the others about him that makes them all look so sad when he does manage to be nice! He's breaking his back here, can't we just appreciate his work?!
second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox
"All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information.  "Who am I supposed to be?" Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders. Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh. [Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]
or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?
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its-time-to-write · 1 year
Note
Hi!! I absolutely love yo he fics talk about carrying the Jamie tartt fic community 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
could you please write something about like the Richmond team being out at a bar and someone kissing Jamie and reader seeing and the chaos that ensues, hopefully with a happy ending but I trust whatever you want to do 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Haha hey, thanks! I write because I have a lot of things in my head, so thanks for enjoying it and for requesting!
Also I literally hate looking for gifs because I can never find the ones I want
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wrote all your lines in the script in my mind
“Why did I let you drag me here?” you ask your absolute best friend the whole world, “I hate bars so much!”
Colin grins. “It’s good for you to get out of your flat and into the real world for a change. You’re getting all pasty.”
“I am not!”
You can’t help but catch onto his infectious mood. He’s still happy after scoring a winning goal, so he and Michael convinced you to go out with them even though it was almost a whole week ago. 
You and Colin had grown up together, kicking the football around his backyard until age ten, when you declared you were never playing with him again because he was “unbeatable.” 
You hate losing. 
You two had been inseparable, even at university. Colin was more outgoing, what with football and all. You were too, in your own way, but you hated bars. And going to the club. You said it was too many drunk, sweaty people but both Michael and Colin promised that it would be fun this time. 
“If I have to go, you have to go,” Michael had said to you. 
You had groaned, but acquiesced. You’re not too sure of your decision anymore, especially because of how many footballers are present.
The last time you were out with them, one of Colin’s teammates had taken it upon himself to flirt with you the entire night. And he flirted very well. Like, so well that you went home that night incredibly flustered. So well that it now occupied a permanent place in your brain. You played the moment he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear on repeat in your mind, like a tab on your laptop that you couldn’t bring yourself to close. 
And you told fucking Michael, who told fucking Colin, who then teased you about it mercilessly until you swore you’d tell the press about the Incident when you two were ten.
Colin shut up after that. 
Actually, that’s not entirely true. You’d go out to coffee and he’d say, “Saw your footballer today,” and you’d say, “He’s not MY footballer,” and Michael would ask, “Then why are you blushing?” so you’d respond, “I’m not blushing, it’s just hot in here, alright?”
Anyway, you’re at this fucking bar filled with fucking footballers and you catch yourself looking around the room for one in particular, and Michael catches you too. He doesn’t say anything, just winks at you and pulls Colin over to an open booth. 
You tell Colin all the time that you like Michael better than him. It’s because Michael knows the meaning of the word discretion. 
“I can be discreet,” Colin says. 
“And I can play football,” you reply.
Michael says you two bicker like a pair of siblings. He’s not wrong.
Right now, though, you’re not bickering. A few of Colin’s friends are filling in the booth. Sam slides in first, then Isaac, and then finally Jamie. 
Michael is sitting opposite Sam, then Colin, then you. 
You’re all squished in, ordering drinks and food, swapping stories and laughing like you’ve known each other for ages. 
You suppose you sort of have. 
You’ve known Colin the longest, obviously, but the next one is Isaac. You met him shortly after university because he was always around Colin. You met Sam once he signed for Richmond, and Jamie when he domineered the little triad of him, Isaac, and Colin. 
You really didn’t like Jamie. 
You told Colin all the time that he was a prick and a bully, but Colin wouldn’t listen. 
It actually was the cause for one of your biggest fights. You two didn’t speak for three months. 
Then Roy head-butted Colin and Jamie was gone, and you’re sure there are other details in between but whatever the case, Colin was at your doorstep with takeout and an apology. You watched Look Both Ways and argued about which was was the best. And that was that. 
When Jamie showed back up, you were less than thrilled. 
“If you fucking act like that prick again, I’ll fucking sabotage this date,” you had said. You were setting up Colin with a friend of yours named Michael. You didn’t know him incredibly well, but you had a lot of mutual friends who absolutely adored him. You were pretty sure he and Colin would click but you didn’t want Colin to act like a douche again. 
He didn’t. It worked out for him. 
Jamie knew who you were to a certain extent, which you suppose is why he was flirting with you that night at the club. Your distaste for him was evident, but you felt so uncomfortable in that environment. You were sitting alone, trying to make yourself invisible, when a tipsy Jamie found you and began to make it his mission to get you to a) smile and b) not hate him. He succeeded at both, as well as secret mission c) make you blush and fall madly in love with him. (Not that he knew that option existed.)
But he did that with all the girls, so you tried not to let it go to your head. 
It did anyway, which is why you’re sitting in this booth in this bar trying not to look at his perfect face for to long and pretending you don’t notice that his foot is resting next to yours under the table. 
“I’m gonna go get another drink,” he says, pushing himself up. You can’t help but notice the glint of his thin gold chain and the way his shirt hugs his bicep. Colin pokes you under the table. 
You look back to the group and try to immerse yourself in the conversation, but you are far too distracted. Your eyes keep flicking to Jamie. 
Jamie, as he orders a drink. Jamie, as he laughs to the bartender, Jamie as he… kisses a fit blonde girl in a tight skirt?
You look back to your table, eyes fixated on the chips in front of you. Oh. You suppose that settles things then. 
You close the tab in your mind and try to muster up some of the old dislike you had for Jamie. It’s not really working, because all you can think about is how he drunkenly waxed poetic about your eyes and told you he had liked them even when they were angry. 
This is the first time you’ve seen him since that night, so it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. What were you expecting, for him to soberly declare his love? Maybe Colin had over-hyped the way he said Jamie had asked about you the next day. Maybe he was exaggerating when he said he caught Jamie looking at the picture of you and Colin from uni that Colin had taped to his locker. 
Maybe you were looking for something real in someone who was just looking for the next good time. 
It doesn’t matter though, because it was just a crush. That’s what you tell yourself as you get up and tell the table you’re going to get some fresh air. “Too many sweaty boys,” you say with a nose wrinkle, and a squeeze to Colin’s hand that means I’m feeling anxious and need cold air. 
You’re breezing out the door by the time Jamie returns, hair slightly tousled and frazzled expression. Michael and Colin exchange a look.
Meanwhile, you’re outside freezing just a little bit. The cold air is a welcome shock to your system, so you don’t mind the way you’re shivering. You take a deep breath, envisioning your lungs expanding to the point of popping. Your breath comes out in a whoosh, and you feel the anxiety beginning to dissipate. You stand, back against the bar wall, puffing cold air into the sky for a long time, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. 
You’re outside so long, that when the door opens and you hear footsteps coming toward you, you’re sure it’s Colin or Michael coming to make sure you haven’t been murdered. 
“You plannin’ on freezing to death?” asks a voice that is neither Colin nor Michael. The owner of said voice leans against the wall next to you, mirroring your position. He’s so close you can feel heat radiating off his body, but you’re not quite touching. 
You shake your head. “No, I’m not,” you hear yourself saying, “I just got a little anxious and the cold air is good for me, so… here I am.”
Jamie makes a concerned hm and nothing else. He just stands there next to you, not touching but still too close. 
“Why are you out here?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Thought you’d be inside. Looks like you met someone interesting. She might be missing you.” 
There’s no malice in your tone. You’re just stating facts as an observer. As a friend, maybe. The only thing that colors your words is just a hint of sadness. You’re sure Jamie won’t register it. 
He grimaces and shakes his head. “Ain’t my friend. Some fan who thinks it’s fucking cool to kiss a footballer. Weren’t paying attention, otherwise I could’ve blocked it. I fucking hate it when that happens. It’s like, they don’t even see me as a real person. Just a sexy lad they can do whatever with.”
You chuckle at the way he says “sexy lad.” It reminds you of the way he had told you he had been a “wee sexy baby.”
“That fucking sucks,” you say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it like that.” You’re taking deep, calming breaths, still trying to get rid of that anxious feeling. 
Jamie just shrugs. He makes no indication that he’s going to continue speaking so you ask, “So, is that why are you out here, then? Is it to get away from her? Because if anyone should have to leave, it’s her. Pretty sure we could talk to someone and get her kicked out.”
You shiver, cold air beginning to seep through your coat. Jamie closes the gap between you, his bicep pressing against yours. You stifle another shiver, this one not from cold. 
“Nah,” he replies, “that’s not why I’m here. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Oh. That’s weird. “Why didn’t Colin or Michael come?”
Jamie shrugs again. “Colin said some shit about fuckin whatever and Michael said the same fuckin shit, so…” he trails off. 
You look up at him. “Jamie. You’re not making any fucking sense. I don’t know if it’s the cortisol flowing through my body or if you’ve had too much to drink, but you have got to be a whole lot clearer.”
That seems to get his attention, and bring him back to the reality that you two are outside, in the fucking cold, and he’s chatting with you as if nothing is wrong. 
Jamie puffs out a breath, watching it coil into the air. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then settles on: “I ain’t drunk.”
You’re still looking at him. He’s right. He’s stone-cold sober. 
“I wanted to make sure you were alright. Colin said that you’d probably rather see me than him so… I dunno, I fucking came out here. I’ve been thinking about you ever since the last time we talked.”
Your cheeks flush bright red, and you’re grateful for the night sky. You keep taking your deep breaths. 
Jamie continues, “You flirted with me for fucking five seconds, and it’s like- I forgot you hated me. Didn’t care about anything anymore, you just smiled at me fucking one time and I felt like I was floating.” He stares at the sky. “I fucking hate talking about feelings and shit, and you’re basically Colin’s sister, so I figured I didn’t have a chance. But I’ve been fucking head-over-heels since the first time you glared at me.”
You’re pretty sure this is an anxiety hallucination. That’s a thing, right?
Jamie is no longer staring at the sky, but looking at you. He breathes out a laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make it weird.” He moves to go back inside but you grab his arm. 
“Jamie,” you say. The look on his face when you say his name is so hopeful, that you feel your heart shatter and reform almost instantaneously. “Jamie, you- you like me? You came out here because you like me? And that’s why you were drunkenly flirting with me last month?”
“Yeah, yeah it is.” 
Your hand is still on his arm, and you’re standing face to face. You’re still breathing heavily, but so is he. You slowly run your hand up his arm and cup his face. He’s staring at you, mere inches apart, as you stand on tiptoe to reach his lips.
He kisses you back with the hunger of a starving man, arms wrapped around your waist the moment your lips make contact. You’re pulling each other closer, forgetting the freezing cold, when you hear an, “Oi, boyo.”
It’s Colin and Michael, walking out from the bar, headed home. 
You and Jamie break apart and Colin points to him. “Break her heart, Michael and I will break your fucking legs.”
Jamie grins and nods, and you just roll your eyes. You’re going to have to tell them everything, but right now they’re walking away and it’s fucking cold, so Jamie’s pulling you back to him again to pick up where you left off. 
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loserlvrss · 2 months
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face yoon jeonghan (윤정한)
authors note // this story isn't supposed to be very heavy !! something light with an eventual happy ending c: ive been sitting with this idea for literal years, so i hope its good. a full playlist will eventually be made, but kr&b is what i listened to while writing it (along with the chapter songs i link at the beginning)
chapter theme warnings // language, angst, unplanned pregnancy, implied suicidal thoughts, topics of pregnancy & babies in general
word count // 2.3k
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prologue: face: songs: 1  2  3  4 
You kissed your child’s head, ruffling the short chestnut locks. Your kid’s hair was slightly different than yours—Texture wise—also lightening or darkening further in various settings. However, you only realized that because you were his mother, and it was basically your job to know everything about your son. 
There was laughter and quieted screams meeting your ears; other children and childcare workers who were playing in the background as you were just finishing dropping him off. 
“I’ll see you after work, Jae. I'll bring you the cupcake you like, okay?” 
Jae grabbed your face with soft hands, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek and then bringing you into a hug. You stood up and watched as he skipped off, joining a group who he’s expressed (with the confirmation of the childcare workers) are his best friends. 
You were always beyond proud of your son for being able to spread so much love to the world, despite not having the smoothest upbringing—or frankly, an example of unconditional love (despite yours for him). You wanted to feel proud of yourself, but knew that it was all Jae’s interpretation of the world around him. He loved everyone and everything; in the purest form, he found beauty. He was the best kid you’ve ever met, but maybe you were just biased. 
“He’s truly a beautiful kid, looks just like you.” You met eyes with the woman who worked the sign-in and out desk. “Laughs and smiles all the time; Gets along with everyone… Even the kids that people don’t seem to gravitate towards. He hates to see them left out. Good job with him, miss y/n.” 
“Thank you.” You replied, forcing a smile to surface. You couldn’t help the bittersweet feeling that left a lump in your throat. You knew exactly why it always bothered you though; he looks just like you. But nobody knew he looked almost uncanny to his father at this age. He didn’t have your eyes, nor mouth, nor cheekbones. All Jae had, in your eyes, was part of your personality and nose. 
You tried time and time again, staring at your son as he’d nap, to find what people would point-out. But you never did, and that seemed to bother you more than you’d like to admit. So, what should’ve been a compliment was always hard for you to swallow. 
“I’ll see you at five-thirty!” 
She nodded behind the desk. “He’ll be all ready for you.” 
You let the door swing behind you, a slight shake to your hands as you found your keys. It was beginning to look and feel like spring, and soon the cherry blossoms would bloom, meaning you’d have your annual outing with Jae to see them before they fell. You’d take a day off work and keep him home from preschool, taking him out for lunch and ice cream, letting him play at the nearby park after until his little heart's contempt. 
You loved that day, and you looked forward to it all year round. It was peace of mind, and there seemed like little responsibility when it was just you two enjoying life. 
The days seemed to pass slowly nowadays, and maybe that was because now that you were getting older, you were repeating the same routine like clockwork. It was a never-ending Groundhog’s Day, where you could only hope to find the escape to the time-loop. 
The car came to a stop, and you put it in park quickly after. Your head fell atop your chilled hands that gripped the steering wheel still. You let out a sigh, a breath that forever seemed to be stuck in your lungs. As you collected yourself, you also collected your purse from the passenger seat, taking your keys and clenching them tightly. 
The beep of a car locking was familiar to you as it met your ears, causing you to turn and look. Meeting your sights was the black vehicle that belonged to your coworker, as well as said person, who hadn’t noticed you yet.
“Wonwoo?” You asked, slightly confused as to why he was scheduled at the same time as you on a Monday, rather than a Friday or Wednesday; like usual, however, your shifts overlapped quite often. 
His sharp, cat-like features were on full display, glasses within his forefinger and thumb as he cleaned the lenses. He was wearing dark-washed, wide leg jeans, and a white T-shirt—One that looked as if he had bought it recently—His hair was falling effortlessly, only moving slightly with the gentle gusts of wind. 
You always thought he looked like the lead of a drama, a sought after actor that attended fashion shows and got awards, not someone who worked at a bakery, like you. 
You had started working before him, right after you had dropped out of Seoul University, 7 weeks into your pregnancy with Jae. You were a confused, hormonal, soon-to-be mother who had no one to rely on. But you always thought that Wonwoo deserved more than what he was left with, and sometimes you regretted not being that comfort for him, as he always was for you. 
He’d run to the convenience store, mid-shift, just because you kept talking about triangle kimbap or a watermelon bar. He’d cover for you when you’d get ill and run to the bathroom with a hand slapped over your face. And when your due date got closer, he’d walk you to your car just to help you get in comfortably. 
You two weren’t even far off in age, and maybe that’s why you knew deep down it was because he pitied your circumstance: Single, pregnant, and borderline suicidal. All your plans had been thrown out like trash the moment you took the test, the moment you fought with your ex, breaking up after 4 years together. 
Every single promise for a better life—A happy life—Was washed away with the rain. And even if you weren’t technically alone, you felt as if the world had shut you out. Now it’s been 4 years, and you’ve gotten used to the feeling of uncertainty. You lived for Jae, and that always should’ve been enough. However, you felt guilty for thinking of a time when he didn’t exist, when he wasn’t even a thought in the back of your mind. If you could go back in time, you were sure you wouldn’t change anything, because Jae was your lifeline, the one thing in this world that kept you going. But, the tears that streamed down your face on particularly painful nights told a different side to you, one that mirrored the 22 year old who got shattered and left to become nothing but dust. 
You couldn’t help but think that life would’ve been easier if you were prepared for it. If you had Jae when you were 26 or 27 like you had planned on. If you had finished your business degree and opened your own company with your boyfriend. Life would’ve been smooth sailing. But instead, you were left with barely enough money to keep the lights on, and many cupcakes to keep a smile on your son’s face after long shifts.        
“Are you okay?” The voice broke you from the painful thoughts that plagued your subconscious. “Y/n? Is it Jae, is he okay?” 
You nodded in an unconstant pattern, slowly moving your head up to level your eyes. Your eyebrows creased slightly, but that was only because you were having a hard time pushing your mind in the right direction.  
“Yeah, he’s fine.”
“Are you?” He approached you as you leaned against the driver’s door. “Did something happen?” 
His concern would’ve seemed out of character if you didn’t know him, but turned down lips and straight faces were only surface level. He might’ve looked cold, but you’ve never met anyone warmer. 
“Just tired, that’s all.” You replied, crossing your arms. Your bag hung against your front and you wondered the time. You weren’t running late after dropping Jae off, but even if you were, your manager for the night was standing in front of you—And, Wonwoo would never write you up. “Been thinking a lot recently… Well, we should go in and help Minjoon before she scolds us.” 
He laughed. “She is a terrifying highschooler.”  
“Scariest I've ever met.” You mimicked a shiver, pushing off the metal and awaiting Wonwoo to join you. “I can already see her glare.” 
He did promptly, holding the glass door open for you. You brushed past him, viewing the many people lined up and a seething highschool girl at the register; Whether it was because you were technically 3 minutes late or because of a customer was up for interpretation. 
You apologized silently as you made eye-contact with the girl, walking around the open corner of the front desk and to the back to put your stuff away. There were various lockers, each having a name for the employees of the bakery—Not that there were that many to begin with. 
You opened the one with your whiteboard-markered name, and put your purse on the shelf. Inside there was a picture of you and Jae as well as an old note from Minjoon that read I hope all is well, but I'm going to kill you, because you were late, much like today. However that day it was because Jae was sick and whining about everything; His babysitter had given him the flu earlier that week. 
Of course though, Wonwoo covered for you when you called in tears. And after he even brought some food to your apartment, which was across town from his own, and let you vent in your dimly-lit kitchen until way too late. He even took your shift when you caught the virus from your son sneezing in your face. 
You sighed again, shutting the door closed with the quiet bang of metal on metal. Your hand clutched where your heart would be if it wasn’t scared out of your chest. 
On the other side was Minjoon, who was leisurely propped against her own locker. “You two came in together. You’re both late… Together?” 
She eyed you as you tried to explain, “We met in the parking lot.” And even though it was the truth, she made you feel as if it wasn’t. Her arms were crossed, looking awfully like your mother would have if she was still around. “We just walked in together, don’t get the wrong idea.”
“Oh, why would I?” She voiced, nose turned to the ceiling. “It definitely wouldn’t be because you two are always together, and Wonwoo would do literally anything for you. No, that would be ridiculous to think.” You deadpanned, knowing it was true, but a misunderstanding. You didn’t like Wonwoo, you don’t see how you could, considering your situation. “If I didn’t know you two I would think Jae was his.” 
Your heart sank, and maybe it was the insinuation of people making assumptions that hurt you. Did Jae need a father to be valid in other people’s eyes? That’s probably not what she meant, but nonetheless it’s where your head went. 
“It’s not a bad thing, but if you two start dating, please don’t let me catch you guys making out in here. I’d have to bill you for therapy, and then quit.”
You mimicked her lean. “God forbid you don’t have any money to buy albums. What would you do without your Jungkook photocards?” 
“Die.” She replied simply. “I’d die.”  
Before you had a chance to call her dramatic, Wonwoo popped through the door.
“Could you guys help me? It’s about to be time for our morning rush.” 
You jumped off the locker, hustling out the door to assist your manager with the heaps of business men and women on their commute to work, or influencers looking for a pretty picture. You rarely had the in between, but sometimes on a blue moon, you’d get the random straggler who just wanted a sweet treat. 
“I rest my case!” You heard being shouted as you let the door close behind you. “It would just be a crazy thought, wouldn’t it!” 
You met his side, taking the filled cup from his hand and putting a lid on it. “Sorry.” You took over the last of the three drinks, thankful it was simply just a black coffee. 
“Gonna have to start writing you up for being so distracting, y/n.” He joked, grabbing a croissant and placing it within a brown wax bag. You smiled apologetically. “I’ll go do the register.”
“Are you sure? I could get Minjoon to do it again.”
You nodded, placing a comforting hand against his arm. “No, it’s okay. I’ll do it, it’ll distract me from my thoughts.” 
Wonwoo reluctantly agreed, because he may technically be your boss but you rarely listened to him, and he knew it was no use arguing if it was only going to lead to you doing it anyway. You appreciated his sentiment, and his eagerness to make sure you were comfortable, however it was almost always at his or someone else’s expense.
You were an adult—A big girl—Who should be able to handle a little bit of stress. But maybe Wonwoo knew you were just a ticking time-bomb, awaiting that last second before you exploded. He seemingly knew you well enough after four years.  Everything might’ve been getting a little too much recently, and yes, maybe you felt lost sometimes, but you, in reality, had no will to give up. Not when it was Jae at risk—He already didn’t have a father, why would you leave him motherless as well? He was just as big a priority to you a little over 4 years ago, as he is today. You’d sacrifice everything for your child. And, truthfully, you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
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all rights reserved copyright © loserlvrss 2024
tag list: @yyangj3lly | send an ask to be added! masterlist next part
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siriusblackloml · 9 months
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just for me - george weasley x reader smut (PART 3)
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𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: george weasley x fem!reader
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 11.7k
𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩: “i was wondering if you could maybe write anything abt virgin killer!george weasley?? like im sorry hes the finest mf around ik he gets MAD hoes so when he finally acknowledges this preppy, nice and innocent mc he jus knows he has to ruin her"
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: he fucked up. quite horribly, too. george swooped in, made his move, and tried to get on his life like he always does after he's finished with a random hookup. now you were avoiding him and pretty much making him live in agony as a result of his shitty actions. george will soon come to realize you had a much larger impact on his life than he would ever imagine.
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, a LOT of angst
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: i’m still not done with this series but instead of keeping it three parts, i decided to add a fourth :) i hope you all enjoy this and please forgive me for the very long wait. i’ve had so much going on irl. part four is coming soon!
part one ┊ part two ┊part three ┊pt. 4 coming soon!
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George had a funny little hop in his step as he walked through the grass. Not that it was truly intentional. He was just…very, very happy. There was too much adrenaline fogging his brain to really comprehend anything in this moment of time. He was acting as though he hadn’t just fucked you senseless in the field of grass outside the school. 
He felt proud of himself. He thought that this moment was worth all the celebrating in the world. All of his hard work had built up towards this moment and it paid off so much. You were absolutely amazing. Actually, he wondered to himself, was it possible to say that you were perfect? If he had to be honest with himself, you were everything he wanted in a girl. 
Physically, of course. It’s not like he was looking to start a relationship or anything. Sure, he just told you that he would see you around, but he had to use that more as a lie to try and leave the precious moment between you two on a positive note. False hope, deception, bullshit, call it anything you want, George didn’t regret it. He knew that if he just walked away he probably would have left you crying right there on the spot. He’s not sure he would ever be able to forgive himself if he did that. 
At the end of the day, George knew better than to actually see you again. That’s why from here on out, it would be nothing more than talking in class. If he even brought himself to do that. 
George couldn’t shake the smile from his face as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, contrasting the chilly breeze outside. Not that he was cold; the boy was still quite feverish from how hard he had just fucked you. Students were chatting amongst one another about their day and what was to come for the rest of the night. George noticed some students who were admirably trying to complete homework in the midst of the constant chatter. He thought of you for a split second. Remembering all the time you spend studying for homework and exams. He literally interrupted you studying earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind. 
Those thoughts of you were immediately discarded once he noticed a familiar duo in the corner of the room arguing with one another. It was George’s younger brother, Ron, and his friend Hermoine. What the two of them were arguing about was unbeknownst to him, but George caught the eye of someone sitting in a chair eating candy, watching the scene unfold like it was a drama. It was Fred, his fiery-red haired twin, who was popping the sweet treats into his mouth like he was eating popcorn at the movie theater. It must have been very entertaining watching Ron and Hermoine argue, as Fred couldn’t seem to pry his eyes off the show in front of him. 
George walks up to Fred and snaps his fingers. He immediately catches the attention of Fred, who boggles at him as if to ask, what the hell do you want? George motions for the boy to follow him. Fred gets up from his seat and follows George up the flight of stairs towards the empty dormitories. George seemingly couldn’t break the smile on his face so Fred immediately knew what was going on.
As soon as they were out of earshot of other people, Fred asked George, “So? Did it finally happen?”
George nods his head excitedly and eagerly answers, “Yes! It did!”
The twin embraces his brother with a cheeky clap of hand that morphed into a side hug. He was obviously very proud of George for his achievement. It’s not every day you take your classmate's virginity in the middle of a grassy field. Not that Fred really needed to know that last small detail. 
“I can’t believe you popped her cherry. I didn’t think she was ever going to budge.” Fred shakes his head in disbelief. The brother was referring to the fact he knew of your innocence. George remembers back to the day his twin told him about how you were positively a virgin. He could have sworn he melted on the spot from the newfound information. It was at that moment he knew he needed to be the one to ruin your innocence. 
And innocent you were. Well, for the most part, anyway. Your mouth depicted otherwise given all the profanity you were throwing at George. He couldn’t get over how mouthy you were during the entire session. The pathetic begging, the whining, the swearing. It was like heaven to his ears. It only made him want to drill his cock inside your pretty pussy even harder. Which he did, of course, and he loved watching the way your face would contort into pleasure at every thrust. 
Fred clapped his brother’s shoulder, pulling George from his daydreaming. He said in a cheerful tone, “Good for you, mate. So when are you seeing her again?” 
Fred’s brother immediately scoffs at the question. George thinks to himself, as if that’s happening. He had a very set rule for himself which was so straightforward it would take an absolute idiot to not understand. This easy rule was simple to follow; he didn’t give any of his hookups a second chance. They were a one and one time only situation. George was afraid that if he were to consistently see the same girl, he would give the impression that he wanted things to develop into something more. Of course he did like the girls, but it was more so for their physical appearance over their personality. Not that yours was bad, he actually quite enjoyed talking to you. 
Maybe even a little more than any other girl. You did leave his heart fluttering every now and then, which was strange for George to understand because it had never happened before. The boy shakes his head. He can’t keep thinking about you. No girl had ever left him so flustered before and he was not about to let that ruin his night of celebration. Celebrating you, of course. Or more so, the dirty act you two shared. 
To avoid giving you any kind of false hope, George plans to keep to himself from here on out. George tells his brother, “No, I don’t want her to think I’m, like, into her, know what I mean?” 
Fred shrugs out of confusion and raises an eyebrow, immediately striking back with, “Well, I kinda figured that’s what you wanted.” 
George’s heart stops beating for just a split second. As if something shocked his entire body. What was Fred implying? Why would he assume that of his brother knowing his reputation? Hell, Fred has encouraged George in the past to avoid being with a girl more than one time to avoid the start of a relationship. Fred must know deep down that you weren’t any different from the rest of the girls George had been with…right? 
George narrows his eyes at Fred and asks, “What do you mean?” 
“Don’t you like her? I thought…well, I guess I was wrong.” Fred trails off as he notices George seemed very tense. 
He was tense, and for good reason. George was nearly offended that his brother would ever assume that of him. He never broke the cycle in the past to see a girl more than once, why would he do it now? 
But then again, why would Fred figure that in the first place? Was George doing something specific that would have implied that idea? Other than frequently talking to Y/N in class, calling her cute, and….no, any guy can do that and it doesn’t mean he wants to drop everything and date the girl right that second. Plus, George only hung out with you to get closer…obviously. Nothing more than just that. Fred was just jumping to conclusions. Conclusions he had no business assuming in the first place.
George stays silent and avoids the lingering gaze of his twin. He turns away from Fred as an indication that he no longer wanted to talk, to which his brother complied almost immediately. Fred left the room without much of anything else to say. Once George heard the door shut close, he walked across the bedroom towards a long floor length mirror to look at his disheveled appearance. 
His clothes were untidy from the aftermath that was you. George rather liked this sight of his unkempt appearance knowing it was because of your bloody sex. He smirked to himself as he adjusted his clothes, tucking his shirt into his trousers and fixing his tie. Just looking at his clothes reminded him of everything with you. 
The sweetness of your moans, the tightness of your wet cunt, the way your face looked underneath his power. In the midst of him reminiscing, he thought back to the first time he ever saw you in class. That pretty girl was so far gone now. The girl he first met was completely different from the girl he just saw in the field. Her innocence was gone, stolen from her, in a way that was rough and possibly even catastrophic. 
The girl George knew first was too sweet for her own good. He almost…missed it. The way you blushed so easily from any of his flirty comments, or the little gasps that escaped your mouth from every tiny brush of his hand. 
These memories started to flash across the boy’s mind before he could even process them all. The countless times he would flirt with you behind Snape’s back, your sneaky giggles to avoid catching attention from the professor, all the times you would have to help him with his homework because he was absolutely clueless. The way he would glance at your hair because you always styled them in the cutest clips…or the way he would stare at your face because you were absolutely beautiful.
Then again, George loved staring at your face when you were underneath him, writhing in pleasure from the force of his cock. He needed to remind himself that whatever innocent girl he first met was far gone now. He destroyed her, deflowered her, anything he could think of, he did it. And shouldn’t he be proud of himself for that? 
At this moment, George heard his stomach start to grumble. He realized that he had not eaten anything since earlier this morning and was quite hungry. George finishes fixing his clothes and grabs his robe, trying to ignore the thoughts flooding his mind of how he tied a robe to a fucking tree just an hour earlier. 
Within minutes, he found himself going downstairs into the common room and finding a group of his friends and brothers already planning to march towards the Great Hall for dinner. George immediately tags along, jumping into conversation as if he had been there the whole time. As the group of boys wandered down hallways and waltzed around cold corridors, they would joke about anything and everything possible. George loves these nights with his friends where nothing else matters but how much fun they’re having. His mind had barely any focus on you anymore.
However, that did not last very long. Once George arrived at the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but steal a glance towards the table you would typically sit for meals. Your seat was vacant, though. Completely empty while the remainder of your friends sat in their own respective spots, chatting as if nothing was wrong. Clearly there was something wrong; you weren’t here for dinner. 
George thought of this as strange. He assumed that enough time had passed that you would have already come back to the school, gotten cleaned up, and would be coming downstairs for your meal. Maybe you were running late, he thought to himself. 
He shrugs his shoulders and turns back towards his friends, cracking joke after joke that erupted the entire group of boys into massive fits of laughter. Even though George was having a good time, his mind couldn’t stay focused on his friends for long. 
Every few minutes he’d get the urge to see if you were walking in the room. He’d frequently look towards the grand doors, walking students flood in and out, but never would he spot your cute hairclips amongst the crowd of people. He would even look back at your spot at the table. Ten minutes had passed, then it was twenty, now it was nearing thirty, George still couldn’t find you. 
Was it possible that you just stayed in the field after George left? He wondered this to himself, biting his lip in frustration because all he wanted to know was that you were okay. Why? He didn’t have the answer for that. But as long as he was able to see you, that’s all that mattered to George. Where on earth had you gone? There were multiple questions scattered across the boy’s mind and he hated not knowing anything. 
Sitting in the Great Hall trying to chase for an answer in his mind was giving George enough frustration to leave the group of friends early. He complained of being tired, to which his friends all chuckled deeply knowing why he would have been so exhausted (Fred’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he realized his brother had sex in a field). 
The boy left his group of friends to wander the hallways of Hogwarts. He flew up a flight of stairs to get to the second floor, maneuvering his way through a crowd of people to try and find a very particular window. It was one that overlooked the territory surrounding Hogwarts. It was an important window to him as it was pointed in the direction of the same tree you would have been sitting under. George secretly hoped he would be able to see a tiny, black dot under this tree, indicating that you had never left your spot after all.
Upon arrival at this windowsill that George had been desperately trying to look for, he peered outside only to see nothing. There was not one black speck amongst the green grass that would have implied you were still studying your materials. This meant you left the tree long ago, that you were probably wandering the school now doing Godric knows what. 
Why did this leave George feeling…uneasy? His heart dropped when he realized that you were no longer outside. He hated this feeling because it was completely new to him. It also brought on an array of questions, the most common one that crossed his mind being, why on earth does he care so much about a girl he hooked up with? Why was he so worried? Why did he hope to find you so desperately? It wasn’t like he was planning on talking to you, or anything more than that really.
George went to sleep that night with you on his mind. It was hard to fall asleep in the first place, however. He was tossing and turning for an hour straight trying not to worry about your current whereabouts. Unfortunately, George didn’t sleep long either. 
He’d wake up just a few hours into the night from a nightmare. It was a dream in which he lost you forever. 
»——•——«
The next day…
»——•——«
George felt a massive shift in the atmosphere the moment he woke up. He had a weird gut feeling about today, mostly because he was worried about where you’d gone last night. However, his worries would only worsen upon his first period class. 
You didn’t show up. To be more specific, you didn’t show up to Professor Snape’s class, which is a huge no-no in not only the professor’s book, but your own as well. You’d never missed class before as far as George was aware. Having to miss any kind of class nearly disgusted you, and you were for sure always present in Snape’s class given the consequences that would likely follow. The professor was keen on giving detention just for missing one class period. Not that you would probably earn one since you were his star student.
What on earth would have caused you to miss class? George wondered if there was a sort of emergency that you had to attend to, but his gut told him otherwise. His stomach felt like there was a knot in it the moment he walked into the room and didn’t see you. He had already felt uneasy just during the walk to the classroom. 
George didn’t see you in the hallway like he usually would in the mornings. He silently hoped and wished it was only because you had already arrived to class early, or maybe it was because you happened to be running late. Even if that was the case, he still felt weird about it because you were always to arrive at class at a very particular time. 
The boy started catching on that you would try and time your walk in the hallway so that the two of you would arrive at the doorway nearly at the exact same time. George never made a comment about this to you; he secretly thought it was adorable that you were so head over heels for him that you would go to such lengths to be sure you both arrived at the same time. 
And here he was, reminiscing those memories. They all felt lightyears away now. He took advantage of those days. The ones where he could admire you walking down the hallway in your cute skirt and hairclips, then he got to wink at you during class at random intervals. A million questions raced through his mind. So much so, that he couldn’t focus on a single word that came out of Snape’s mouth. Not that he usually paid much attention anyway. He would always be too distracted by your beauty. 
Amongst the million questions that ran through his head, one question continued to linger on George’s mind while he sat in class; had he ruined things between you two?
He never asked himself this kind of question before because it has never been an issue in the past. He moved on easily every single time he had been with a girl, why couldn’t he let you go? 
What caused this to start? His infatuation with you, that is. Was it just because you guys talked frequently during class? Well that couldn’t be all, there had been times George hooked up with girls he knew for years and never felt this way before. Was it only because he knew you were a virgin? While that factor going into sex with you was very exciting, it wouldn’t be enough for him to be this obsessed with your unknown whereabouts. 
George tried finding something that would have sparked his sudden interest in you, when his heart dropped in the middle of a thought. The realization hits him like a brick and his breath is immediately knocked out of his lungs. The past day has been spent worrying not only about where you were, but just you in general. Absolutely nothing else mattered in the world but you. 
While George wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, he didn’t need a genius to tell him that he was falling for you. That realization alone was enough to shake him to his core. It was as though everything in his brain had shut off completely, all except that circuit that left his mind running on loop thinking about you and you only. And maybe it wasn’t exactly love that he was feeling, but it was definitely…something. It was the sort of “something” that made George want to drop everything he was doing just to be with you. Because even if it wasn’t love that he was experiencing, the boy knew he was feeling something intense for you and needed to share that with you as soon as possible. 
Given he was in quite possibly the most boring classroom of all, George didn’t even give his plan a second thought. He collected his belongings and shoved them into his bag, got up from his desk, and exited the room without a word. The only thing on his mind was finding you. 
With a rapidly beating heart and sweaty palms, George started to pace the hallways in hopes he would randomly catch sight of you around a corridor. When that plan failed, he stood still for a few minutes to try and pinpoint exactly where you could have been. While it was possible that you were simply hiding in your house dormitory from the rest of the world, George played with the idea that you were possibly hiding in the library. The only reason he could think of such a place was not only because he knew how studious you were, it was the only other location that you two shared. 
It was really only that, the classroom, and that damn field. Having to think about the field burned a massive hole in George’s heart. He knew now, after some reflection, that what he did was awfully wrong. How he didn’t realize it before was beyond him. He was too caught up with his ego and so used to dropping a girl as quick as he saw her, he assumed everything would be the same when it came to you. 
You were different though. George knew that now. And having to think back to the way he used you in that field yesterday made him gulp hard. He wondered, why did he put you through that? He felt like complete shit now. 
All he could think about was you. How you must have felt about all this. Surely enough, you must have felt used. You didn’t deserve that. George stormed down the hallway, ears ringing with anticipation to find you as soon as possible. 
»——•——«
You had been sitting in the library by yourself. Well, obviously you had been. Everyone else was in their respective classes at the time. Not you, though. It was just too much to bear right now with how fresh yesterday’s situation was. 
The fact that you were skipping class made you feel so beyond guilty. For a second, you thought you must have been insane to even consider the idea in the first place. You’d never skipped class before, so going through with the last minute plan was enough to make you bite your nails out of anxiety. However, nothing could compare to the feeling that would have hit you if you had to sit through class next to George Weasley.
Just that thought alone made you sick to your stomach. It would have been a million times worse than what you were feeling now. You knew that you couldn’t skip the next class period with him, however even if you got a chance to skip today, you’d take it. You couldn’t bear looking at his face…as if nothing ever happened between you two. 
Was this what you were made for? To be used by men? That’s all you felt right now; used.
If you had the chance, you would have gone back in time and changed the narrative entirely. You would have stolen that freaking time-turner from Professor McGonagall just to stop yourself from getting hypnotized by his charm. George Weasley was reckless and it affected you too much. 
You were careful before you met the boy. Very cautious, you kept to yourself. Never once did you ever consider lusting after a boy the way you did for George, dreaming up a fantasy where the two of you were happily ever after. And now everything in your life is crashing down all around you. As if you’ve lost complete control. 
You were as reckless as he was. 
He sucked you into this kind of void and it left you unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to think straight. That’s why you were hiding in the library. If the thought of George was making you feel this uneasy, you couldn’t even fathom what would have happened today if you walked into class and sat right next to him.
As if nothing had happened. 
You wondered if you would have been able to contain yourself if you did end up going to class anyway. You’re not sure if you would have cried, screamed at him, or just stayed silent. You were not one to really stand up for yourself, but then again, so much has changed about yourself in the last few weeks you weren’t sure if that was so true anymore. 
The library was dead silent besides your occasional turn of the pages in your book. You busied yourself by catching up on some reading you were meant to read yesterday. While you did your best to read the book last night in bed, it was quite difficult to focus with the amount of tears that welled up in your eyes. Thankfully, you were a bit more composed today and felt confident enough to tackle a couple chapters during this quiet time. 
As you sat silently, taking in the information about an aging potion, you could hear a door open in the distance of the library. The noise was followed by footsteps that increased in volume, indicating that someone was definitely walking in your direction. You can’t help but look up at the noise, half expecting to see either one of your girlfriends or even Snape himself wondering why you weren’t in class.
However, nothing could have prepared you for the boy who was walking towards you. It was George, of course. Because who else would it be at this time of day?
Immediately your eyes widen as your stomach sinks. It felt like the entire world was falling apart around you in an instant. You could have sworn that your heart skipped multiple beats in a row. Just the sight of George was nearly giving you a heart attack. What on earth did he have to say? Better yet, what were you going to say? Was he even worth the talk?
Gulping silently, you just watch as he approaches you in the dead silent room. He seemed to slow down his pace the moment you two made eye contact. As much as you wished it would have been enough to stop him dead in his tracks, he kept walking towards you. He adjusts his tie and clears his throat as casually as possible.
Without asking for permission, George pulls out the chair to your right and seats himself. He jumps right into a sort of interrogation, asking you, “Why weren’t you in class?”
You have to tell yourself to act like you don’t care that he’s here. Obviously he didn’t care about you enough yesterday to stay with you in that field, or even talk to you in general about what you two were. You were just a toy for him to fuck and get over in a matter of minutes. Keeping this in mind, and partially taking notice of the anger that was clearly bubbling inside you, you sneer at George and mutter under your breath, “I didn’t feel like it.”
Not your strongest moment, but it was blunt and rude. You figured it would get the point across that you weren’t very happy with him. So much for not letting it seem like it bothered you. You realized it was a bit harder to hold back your emotion than you originally thought. That doesn’t mean you’re going to beat yourself up over this, though. You would much rather seem angry in front of George than sad or depressed. The last thing you want to do is bawl in front of him.
Did he really deserve to even know that you were angry with him though? You started to regret even talking to him in the first place. Too many questions were swirling around your mind for you to find focus. It made your head pound with pain.
“I need to ask you something.” George tells you while awkwardly biting his lip and shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He starts to pull hair away from his face and run his fingers through his hair. It takes a lot of power to try not to notice how attractive he looked whenever he played with his hair like that.
Your back straightens and you instinctively lean in towards him, eager to hear what he has to say. You respond in a dry tone, “What is it?”
Suddenly, George is leaning forward and grabbing you by the chin with his fingers, forcing your eyes to take in his weary face. You gasp quietly, heart feeling like it was being stabbed, it was throbbing so hard.
He asks you in a frantic voice, “Things feel different for you, too, don’t they?”
You raise an eyebrow, confused. Things? Between the two of you? Well…of course they were different. Before yesterday, you two were just classmates that would flirt. Now, you didn’t even know whatever “this” was. It was disgusting, that’s what you thought to yourself. It left you feeling used.
So what the hell was he implying? You let him hold your chin a while longer and ask softly, “What do you mean?”
George blinks once, twice, three times before he gulps hard.
“I-Well-…I don’t know…” He starts to sputter out anything that comes to mind. He can’t seem to explain himself fast enough, or find the words in general.
You pull away from his grasp, narrowing your eyes as you pick apart his act. This was all fake, wasn’t it? Just another fucking plan to woo you? He would act all pitiful and sad to express how much he didn’t mean it, all just to see you naked again. That’s exactly what this was.
“You’re just trying to get in my pants again, aren’t you?” You snap at George with a nasty tone. You stand up from your chair dramatically, hearing the scrape of wood against stone echo throughout the empty library.
George stands up nearly as quick as you do the moment the words are leaving your mouth. He tries to extend his arms out to grasp you, but misses as you take a step back. Throwing everything in your backpack as fast as you possibly can, you notice George in the corner of your eye starting to inch closer to you again with a nervous voice, “W-What?! No! Y/N, I swear-”
You throw all your books in your bag and slam the chair into the desk, snapping at George with a newfound fury you hadn’t realized was inside you all this time. You tell him, “Do me a favor George; leave me the FUCK alone.”
It was obvious that the sentence alone was enough of a threat to the boy. The anger laced in your tongue hits George like a million knives, putting him in his place immediately. He falls silent immediately, watching you walk away from the scene without another word.
However, what he didn’t see was the tears building up along your lash line. As much as you hated his guts, you were still falling madly in love with the idiot. You hated yourself as much as you hated him.
»——•——«
Two days later…
»——•——«
George knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, but he didn’t realize just how damn sneaky you could really be. After the horrific interaction in the library just days before, the boy wouldn’t see you again until the next session in Professor Snape’s potion class. He no longer saw you in the hallways or the Great Hall. You obviously made a substantial deal to be sure that there would be little to no chance of ever seeing you outside of class again.
Not seeing you for days straight made George feel even worse. He wasn’t sure if he should have looked forward to potions or not, assuming that you would be there of course. Sure enough, you were present in class, but it did not make the situation any better. When George walked into the room, he immediately spotted you at the front of the classroom speaking to Professor Snape in hushed whispers. Whatever was being discussed, Snape looked very concerned.
Such an indication did not stop George from calling out your name. In a loud voice, he said across the room, “Hey, Y/N!”
He wasn’t even quite sure why he said your name, if he had to be honest with himself. It kind of slipped out before he had time to process it all. Maybe his gut thought that trying to talk to you in class was going to go better than how the discussion went down in the library a couple days prior. Perhaps the crowd surrounding you two would force you to act a bit nicer; allow him to get his words out and express his feelings about everything.
Both you and Snape turn to look at George, who is awkwardly waving and sheepishly smiling. But in an instant you shoot him a glare. Even Professor Snape was scowling at him. While this was a normal occurrence for George in front of just about any teacher, it seemed that Snape was going out of his way to make his scowl even deeper and nastier than usual.
Right away, you had seated yourself in a chair closest to the professor’s desk. Keeping your back to George, he was forced to position his gaze back on his professor. Snape’s dirty look did not go away as he gave out instructions. “George, you’ll be sitting in this seat for the rest of the year.”
The teacher walked George to his new spot, which was the furthest point from your new seat at the front of the classroom. He was all the way in the back. This kind of seating chart is a great opportunity for a prankster like George to unleash his full potential on the entire class, but he couldn’t even relish in this once in a lifetime lucky chance he’d been granted. The boy felt everything opposite of that expected feeling.
George’s stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. He realized very quickly that you had purposely asked for this separation from him. Whatever you told Snape, it was to avoid having any further conversation with George during class.
He was convinced he was going to lose his mind over you. He had to get a hold of you, and soon.
»——•——«
Many weeks later...
»——•——«
You thought you were going to lose your mind having to avoid the boy like this, day in and out. At this point, it was becoming a routine. One that you had to follow religiously in order to avoid any kind of possible conflict with George.
Of course, deep down you want to listen to what he has to say. You know it might be valuable in a sense…but at the same time, he deceived you once, he could easily do it again. How were you supposed to know he wasn’t trying to apologize just to appeal to your sensitive side, only to try and slide into your pants once again? Something like this was too difficult to decipher. Therefore, you were much more comfortable just glancing at George from a far distance. He didn’t deserve to talk to you…as much as you wanted to talk to him.
One night, as you are exiting the Great Hall after eating a delicious meal, you begin to make your way to the dormitories. Your mind is too preoccupied on the immense amount of homework you have later tonight to hear the sound of footsteps following close behind you. It’s not until the fiery-red haired boy is in your peripheral vision that you realize someone was near you.
In a matter of seconds, your heart drops into your stomach without even having to look George directly in the face. He had your full attention now without even having to try, let alone look at him.
While your heart was pounding out of your chest, you tried your best to focus more on how annoying it was becoming that George wasn’t going to let you go so easily. Why did he want to talk to you so badly anyway? Just to have sex again? With an eye roll, you pick up the pace and start to walk faster down the hallway. You had hoped that the silent treatment would work enough to scare him away.
George attaches himself to your side immediately and says, “Y/N, stop, please. I want to talk to you.”
Keeping your head forward, he is only met with silence. Obviously angered by your immature attitude, he scoffs under his breath and reveals a nasty look on his face; as if that was meant to make you feel bad for him.
It was amusing to see him get his knickers in a twist just from not speaking. It was almost hard to hold back from smirking in front of the boy. However, deep down you were still just as scared of talking to George as you were most days since everything occurred. He just had this kind of effect on you where it felt like no matter how angry you acted around him, your heart was still soft for his stupid antics.
You didn’t dare reveal that to him; you were still recovering from the massive damage he had done to your emotional state. You shuffle past George as fast as possible, still refusing to make any sort of eye contact with him.
Eventually, he jumps right in front of you, preventing you from moving anymore. You jump from the action and immediately snap, “What on earth do you want with me, George?”
He takes a step forward to close the gap, his eyes staring deeply into your own. He starts to stumble over his words, “G-Godric, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d ever…I just wanted to…bloody hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“Then don’t bother, okay?” You tell him, moving around his figure to get away from the conversation. It’s hard to believe he has anything worthwhile to tell you in the first place. However, there’s still a small sliver of hope that resides in your being, and it’s just enough to tell George, “I’ll see you around.”
You’re not sure what you mean when you say this. You figure that maybe it’s enough to keep you two on good terms. He didn’t really deserve more than that though. He was an ass and literally used you. But your heart ached for him nonetheless. You were always going to miss him, so why bother keeping up this anger front for the rest of the school year? It was killing you just to do it right now.
The boy doesn’t take long to get the hint. He stands still and merely watches you walk away. You can practically feel his eyes bearing a hole through the back of your skull from how hard he was staring.
Later that night, while you are lying in bed struggling to sleep thanks to all that was on your mind, you thought back to earlier. What was it he wanted to say to you? Why was it so urgent?
Curiosity would eventually kill the cat.
»——•——«
It's been months since that day in the field. You would still go out of your way to avoid George, and he has slowly stopped trying to make conversation with you entirely. Your heart ached for him each and every day, though. You missed having those silly conversations in class, waving to him in the Great Hall, and so much more. Part of you was even missing all those times he would desperately try to get your attention only for you to ignore it. You thought of it for the better, but looking back on it all, had that really been the best choice?
You can hear his little friend group whisper among themselves whenever you and George are ever in the same room with one another. There was no doubt they knew about everything that happened. Which only made you feel more like shit; how dare they know you lost your virginity to a classmate you had fallen so deeply for. Not once had you ever felt so humiliated before. This was not how you expected your last year at Hogwarts to go. You anticipated much more out of this year. Laughing, studying, maybe some crying here and there, but not over a boy who used you for sex. That was the last thing you ever considered to happen to you.
In a weird sort of way, George felt much like the yin to your yang. The way the two of you could come together and have so much fun despite your differing personalities always blew you away. He completed the missing pieces within you. It was an act that you didn’t think was possible, especially knowing it was someone you met so recently. That being said, you can’t help but miss those moments of bliss with one another.
Just the thought of him makes you shudder. Not out of disgust, but due to the ache in your heart that desired more from him. If anything, it was likely to be from the immense guilt and shame that clouded your every being since the day everything happened with George. Why on earth would you miss someone like him when he was so mean?
It is winter break now. A large majority of students had left to go home, but you were staying at Hogwarts. The last few days were spent reading books you meant to catch up on ages ago. You had to occasionally flit around the hallways in order to avoid the Weasleys. It was so convenient that they happened to be here during the holidays at the same time as you. But at this point in the year, you had started to grow used to it all. It’s all you could do in order to “cope” with the sadness that hung heavy in your heart.
You were in the library again, turning page after page in your book. You were slowly catching yourself starting to space out. Rightly so, as it had been a couple hours of sitting here and you were slowly growing hungry. You could barely focus when your stomach continuously growls.
As you start to put away your book in your bag, alongside anything else you had pulled out, you could hear footsteps walking past you. You didn’t think much of it until you heard a familiar voice.
“Hello, Y/N.” George says.
A chill runs up your spin, hair standing up on the back of your neck. Goosebumps trail up and down your arms as your throat runs dry. If it wasn’t obvious you were nervous before, it was now. Your eyes shot up towards the boy, watching him stand near you with a soft smile and blushed cheeks. This hadn’t been how you anticipated the night to go at all, but you couldn’t bear to embarrass yourself any longer.
You muster up enough courage to respond back. “Hey, George.”
“How are you doing?” He replies, watching you closely as you continue to put away your belongings into your bag at a slow pace. Your hands were shaking slightly from the anxiety coursing through your veins. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d wager that George was in the exact same boat as you were.
He was clutching a couple books tight to his chest, finger tapping anxiously along the spines. He kept swaying back and forth, biting his lip and avoiding eye contact on occasion.
It had been so long since the two of you last spoke. You knew deep down you had been wanting this for ages, missing these small conversations. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be civil, at least this once, you wondered to yourself. You had never held a grudge for so long before, and you weren’t about to let it continue. Maybe this was your chance to let bygones be bygones and let George know that you’ve moved on (that’s a big lie, but what he doesn’t have to know won’t hurt him).
So, you decide to interact with him some more. You tell him, “I’ve been doing fine.”
George cracks that gorgeous smile of his and nods his head. He chimes in, “Good, good, I’m happy to hear that.”
You decide not to comment on that. However, there is no denying that little explosion of butterflies in your stomach. Well, that and the loud rumble that follows.
Your stomach growls out of hunger once again, clearly indicating between both parties that you were getting hungrier by the second. Cheeks red from embarrassment, you try to save yourself by saying, “I’m heading to the Great Hall. Just wanted to get in some light reading before supper.”
“Can I walk with you?” George asks as soon as you’re finished speaking.
His voice was soft despite the request filling you with fear in an instant. You did want to walk with him, but what were his intentions? The prospect of having to venture anywhere with George at your side was slightly concerning since you hadn’t done so since…well, before everything.
You shoot him a slight glare, immediately questionable about why he wanted to. He picked up on this, placing his hands in a defensive position and exclaiming, “I’m going there already! I was just about to leave for supper myself. I figured if you were going, maybe we could walk together. That’s all I wanted.”
Maybe it’s the innocence of his request, or those stupid puppy dog eyes, but you’re not entirely opposed to the idea. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to walk with him if that’s all that would come out of it in the end. Nothing more, nothing less. You knew eventually this would likely happen anyway. You couldn’t avoid him forever.
Simultaneously, you found yourself wondering if you were being foolish to even entertain the possibility of this. Only an idiot would want to walk with the same man who used her for sex; but here you were, being as foolish as ever. Due to his undeniable appeal and practically begging to walk with you, you’re giving him permission to be in your company. While your eyes were darting around anywhere in the room but George, you tell him, “That’s fine, you can join me.”
Walking out of the library with George next to your side feels strange. At the same time, you feel even weirder for thinking that. At some point during the school year, this felt so completely normal to you. Now it was all just an out of body experience. As if the two of you were strangers all over again. Your heart was beating so rapidly out of your chest you thought you were going to have a heart attack.
The hallways leading to the Great Hall were completely empty. It was likely that whatever remaining students that were on campus were eating at the moment. The echo of your and George’s footsteps, alongside the dim lighting, made the situation all the more stressful for you. It was like you were stuck in place despite moving closer and closer to your destination.
After a minute of walking and absolutely no words spoken, George breaks the silence. He asks, “Can I speak to you for just a moment?”
“Is it about all that happened between us?” You wonder, your throat constricts the more you talk. You’re sure you are on the verge of tears just from the thought of it all. However, maybe this was the closure that you needed. Maybe this is what you needed to move forward and get on with your life without worrying about some red-haired boy running amuck in the school hallways and classrooms.
He clears his throat, “Yeah, it’s about that. I have something really important I want to tell you, Y/N.”
You internally go back and forth about whether or not you want to hear it, wondering if what he has to say will truly have any meaning at all. George dislikes the long pause it takes for you to say anything. He steps in front of you and blocks your path. He places his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from being able to walk away.
You huff and puff out of annoyance, sneering at him to say, “Let go of me, George.”
“Y/N, please, I just-” He tightens his grip on your shoulders. This causes you to shake from his hold, just barely escaping and nearly dropping your bag in the process. You’re growing more and more irritated by the way he was acting. Why was he being so handsy with you?
You snap at him out of annoyance, “Why the fuck do you need to touch me to tell me something? Just get on with it already-”
George stomps his foot on the ground, the loud sound echoing the walls of the empty hallway. He yells, “Listen to me!”
For the first time in a while, you finally stare into his eyes. Genuinely taking in his appearance and the emotion that has struck his face. It was at this moment you realized just how…damaged he was. He was on the verge of tears and his frail body was shaking from fighting back the floodgates in his eyes. Your heart feels like it’s breaking in two just from the sight. As much as he frustrates you, seeing this side of him makes your stomach sink.
George frustratingly runs his fingers through his hair as if to try and get a better grip on the reality that was taking place before him. He frowns deeply and tries to find his words. He stumbles over his words multiple times, “I-I just felt like…I didn’t think…you-you have to believe me, Y/N, I-I would never-”
You take this as an opportunity to reverse the roles, softly placing a hand on his shoulder as if to silently offer his support. Obviously his words and frustrations were weighing him down, and if there was anything you could do to encourage him to get his worries off his chest, maybe this was it. Just a small act of kindness. He was so desperately trying to hold you in place before this, he must have not realized he was really the one who needed to be weighed down in the first place. Otherwise his mind was going to run a million miles an hour and he would get nowhere with his speech.
You want him to know you’re willing to listen now, to give him a chance. All he wants is to be heard. In your own way, you wanted that too.
You wished you had been able to go back in time to just take things slower with George, to have been able to say no to his lust and just try to take things slower with him…if that was even possible. You wondered if George would have stopped talking to you if he realized you weren’t so easy to crack. Then again, you always felt that there was a spark between the two of you. Maybe at the time, if you had given yourself a moment to really speak your mind, he would have respected your wishes and things would have remained the same between you two. There is no way of knowing now. All you can do to make up for the horrible experience is to hear what he has to say.
The act gives George a chance to catch his breath. You watch his chest rise and fall multiple times, listening to the way he calms himself with a simple breathing exercise. He sighs and drops his shoulders, and you mimic his actions to try and ease your own anxieties. This was not going to be an easy conversation by any means, but it was about time it happened.
Seeing him slowly grow more comfortable seemed to ease the tension. George found himself breathing properly again and nodding his head, as if slowly trying to get back to the point he was originally trying to make in the first place.
You’re growing anxious to hear what he has to say. You pull your hand away from his shoulder and cross your arms, watching the way he shifts his body weight back and forth on the balls of his feet.
After what feels like a million years, he finally confesses. “I am so, so sorry for the way I treated you earlier this year. You didn’t deserve that at all. I have no excuse for my behavior. I don’t know why, but for such a long time now I have gone through girl after girl and never felt anything quite nearly the same as I do for you. You had such an impact on me…Godric, I sound so cringey saying that, but it’s the truth. I really do like you, Y/N. Everything about you and not just your body. I am so sorry for all that I did.”
The moment he finishes with his speech, your ears start to ring. You feel as though his words have stunned you. He liked you…for you? Then why did he do the things that he did?
You raise an eyebrow and look him up and down, as if you were a predator sizing up your meal. You ask him, “Then why did you do it? You always knew I was a virgin, isn’t that why you started talking to me in the first place?”
The question made your stomach drop. Having to talk to George about this makes you feel extremely queasy. George’s tears start to well even larger than before. He bites his bottom lip and looks down at his feet. He tells you, “At first, I saw you as just another girl. I thought you would be the same as the rest of the girls I have been with. Obviously I came to develop feelings for you, but I thought that if I just went about things like I usually do, the feelings would go away and I’d be on my way. But I realized afterwards that wasn’t the case with you. You were so different from the rest.”
Your heart sank hearing him admit to it all. You knew deep down this had always been his plan, you knew that he literally only saw you as an object from the start. However, there was an odd sense of relief that washed over you when he finally admitted to it all. Even though these were all your suspicions, hearing George confirm it all felt like you were finally coming to terms with everything. If anything, you actually had more respect for him.
You appreciate that he told you all of this. Looking back on the last couple months, you wished that you had allowed him to talk previously. This entire time he had tried desperately to tell you all of this and you just shot him down.
Not that you really regret it, though. At the time, you were very unstable with your emotions and you’re not too sure how the conversation would have gone down if he spoke with you weeks prior to today. Not only are you appreciative of the fact he was so honest, but hearing him say that he liked you back…it was like a dream come true. Never did you think he would ever like you the same way you did him.
You stayed silent, and apparently it was too long. George spoke again out of fear that he had scared you, frantically saying, “Please say something. I know you’re not happy with me, but I just need to hear-”
“I forgive you.” You blurt out.
It’s George's turn to fall silent now. Neither of you spoke for a period of time; how long exactly was unclear to you, but it felt too long. Assuming it’s your chance to try and save the conversation, you continue, “I know I’m probably crazy for this, but I forgive you. It takes a lot of courage to go up to a girl and admit that you screwed her over. I like that you were upfront with me about it all.”
Without missing a beat, George smiles harder and harder hearing you admit to your forgiveness. He takes a step forward with his arms open for a hug, but you immediately shoot him down. Placing a hand on his chest, you halt all movement. His entire face is struck with worry, and his mouth opens to apologize. You cut him off and say, “Just because I forgive, doesn’t mean I forget. You hurt me George. It absolutely crushed my soul when the person I thought was becoming my best friend used me and stole my virginity without a second glance. It sucked. That’s why I couldn’t even stand to look at you in the hallways or the classroom, let alone talk to you.”
Tears are welling in your eyes now. Your throat contracts the more you speak, and you have to stop because you know if you go any further it would just develop in a crying session. George nods his head and chokes back more tears, unable to prevent the shakiness in his voice.
“I-I feel like shit, Y/N. Every single day since I realized I fucked up, all I’ve wanted to do was talk to you about this. Like I said before, you deserve so much better. Thank you for forgiving me, though. I feel…better, now that I’ve talked to you about this.”
You smile and shove George’s shoulder in a playful manner, trying to ignore the burning in your eyes from all the tears. “No problem. Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”
George eyes you carefully as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said to him. If you had to be honest with yourself, you couldn’t either. However, now that the niceties were done and over with, you figured maybe starting over wouldn’t be such a bad idea with George. You can tell he’s genuinely sorry for all that he has done, and that he’s clearly changed drastically as a person (which you thought impossible for both Weasley twins).
Maybe dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. You definitely weren’t going to do anything else with George. It would be too soon for that. Maybe a quick bite to eat while catching up on one another's lives would be enough for you tonight. Enough closure after this mess of a conversation. After this, you can go back to just being yourself and not have to worry about him anymore.
“W-We? You want to have dinner with me?” George asks you carefully.
You shrug your shoulders and start to slowly walk towards the Great Hall, George trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You tell him, “I don’t think it would hurt. Just for tonight, though. I figure we have a little catching up to do.”
George can’t stop smiling like an idiot, and you can’t either. Your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of happiness. You’re beyond excited that the two of you were talking again. Not that you planned on staying best of friends, but a mutual likeness should be enough to get you through the remainder of the school year. However, that is quite the opposite of what happens.
The rest of the winter, you and George started to say hi to one another in the hallway again. That transitioned into sitting with one another in the Great Hall, maybe only once or twice a week but it happened nonetheless. Eventually, you and George were talking on a daily basis. Your relationship was slowly reversing back to its old ways, except there was minimal flirting and absolutely no touching. You made sure to lay some ground rules with him once you realized you and George were getting close again.
He promised to respect your wishes, and he has listened graciously so far. Your boundaries were quite simple to follow, but given George’s track record, it was surprising to see him listen so well. All that you asked was to keep everything between the two of your friends only and nothing more. You felt that after all that had happened, it would be best for the both of you to strictly keep things “professional” and not try to rush into anything so soon.
There was no denying you still had feelings for him, and knowing that George liked you back made it hard to not flirt with him in any way. But deep down, you knew that this was for the better. You’d rushed into something with him once before and it had a horrible ending, therefore you couldn’t risk that again. However, things were definitely changing to say the least.
It was obvious in the way your conversations started to last longer than just a minute or so. When you and George graduated from the casual “hello” while in passing and began to have full length conversations again, you quickly realized he was just as whimsical as you had known him from the beginning of the year.
You could never lose a sense of wonder while in his presence. He always had something to tell you, or a funny story that kept you on the edge of your seat. It first occurred to you that you were definitely falling for him once again in the midst of watching George play a prank on Professor Snape during class (the poor guy did not expect his pants to catch on fire. For a split second he almost convinced himself it was the doing of Peeves once again, but realized by the smirk on George’s face that it was no other than the evil twin himself).
That prank could have gone so horribly wrong if Professor Snape hadn’t noticed the flame among his dress pants. And even with the understanding that George’s actions were devastatingly brutal and just downright mean, your stomach felt as though it might explode with laughter (that died very quickly thanks to the glare Snape shot at you).
Even when he used magic in wrongful ways, had a track record with girls a mile long, and had even used you for sex, there was something too forgiving in your nature to just let George go entirely. You realized that you wanted him in your life, either as a best friend or something more. There was something about him that brought you to life. The spark that was lit in your heart was only alive when he was around. You never wanted it to go out, and so you soon realized you never wanted to let him go again.
In your eyes, even with all the mistakes he has made, George enclosed you in a space that left you wanting more. It wasn’t like you were trapped; you weren’t drowning in insufferable conversations or anything of the sort, you absolutely loved his company. You didn’t realize just how much you actually missed it until he started coming around again.
On top of all this realization, there was the fact he had changed considerably as a dear friend. He was much more careful in the way he spoke or acted around you. He wanted to respect your boundaries and never put your relationship at risk again. This is what made you appreciate him so much.
However, there was an obvious change in the atmosphere amongst you two during the springtime.
Winter had come and gone, your conversations were still lively as ever though. Just a couple weeks prior, he had begun walking you to your next class after potions together. It was during one particular day that sparked a sudden change in both your demeanors.
After class, you and George were walking down the corridors together just talking about the upcoming assignments and what you thought would be the best strategy for studying (George needed the advice given his history of failing horribly). While walking, a group of first-years were running amuck in the hallways, nearly trampling over you in the process of it all. Loud yells and feet clamoring against the stone floors filled your ears, your eyes barely having time to process how to avoid all the commotion.
George, however, had thought far ahead of you and made sure to wrap his arm around your shoulder and shield you from the upcoming blows of young, immature eleven-year-olds. He pulled your body in towards his own, protecting you for that brief moment of chaos.
Your body felt like it was exploding from his touch, immediately sobering you up and pulling you from your crazy thoughts. You looked up at George as soon as all the commotion had died down, and he looked down at you. Your mouth felt like it was going slack as you stood there completely frozen under his arm. George bores holes in your eyes, staring at you as if silently asking if this kind of action was allowed within your boundaries.
Without having to hear him say anything, you say, “It’s fine.”
The two of you continued walking down the hallway, talking as though nothing had happened. However, something did happen. It was the start of something new.
For the remainder of that walk to your next period, George kept his arm wrapped around your body as though you were his girl. It struck you as an extraordinary situation that left you dumbfounded for days on end.
First, you couldn’t get over the fact that he did it in the first place. Second, you couldn’t get over the fact that you let it happen. Now would not be a great time to fall back into old habits. You weren’t ready for anything explicit with George just yet. However, at the same time, you liked how protective he was being. You enjoyed having his arm around you. In a weird way, you felt safer. You craved…more.
That strange shift in the air between you two never really left. It only lingered, and continued to emphasize the more the two of you hung out. After that fateful day in the beginning of March, the day that really started to change your relationship with George once again, each week there was a designated day where the two of you just spent time with one another.
While you didn’t know for sure if this meant your relationship with George was developing outside of a friendship, you knew in your heart that it was probably a good sign of something heading towards that direction. If you were able to tolerate his conversations in the hallways from time to time, you had enough courage to be with him in a more secluded setting. This is what began the scheduled meetings once every week where the two of you would simply do homework or sit around and read books.
That same feeling of rapid heartbeats and butterflies in your stomach always came back in full swing the moment you two were together. It gave you flashbacks to that day out in the meadow where he swept you off your feet in an instant. While that memory used to leave you frustrated beyond belief, you could now thankfully say that you don’t fully regret doing what you did with George. You could now tell yourself that it was all just a lesson you had to come and learn the hard way.
The lesson in question? Don’t rush.
George’s arm always found its way around you while the two of you hung out, but it never furthered past that. It would happen at any given point. If there was an opportunity that arose, he would do anything to make sure he could place his arm around you in a protective manner. And it would stay there the remainder of the time you two hung out.
No one ever commented on the matter, not even you, which led George to believe that it was okay to continue doing so. It definitely was, in your book.
It’s late April now, months since you and George finally reconnected again and were practically best of friends. The two of you were sitting on a bench in a random hallway somewhere in Hogwarts. Being in different houses meant you could not be in one another’s common rooms. This was the best you could get, but it was comfortable enough.
You sat next to George while his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch, reading from your book about fantastic beasts and where to find them. George had just finished making a joke about the appearance of this one animal in the book, and it had you giggling beyond belief. You look up at George, eyes full of happiness and excitement. He looks back down at you, smiling hard.
George enjoys taking you by surprise. He leaves you wanting more from him and fills your chest with warmth. You weren't sure precisely what it was that you wanted more of, but you were certain that you didn't want this moment to stop. The expression caught in his eyes was pure protectiveness. You felt protected not just by his arm enveloping you, but also by the expression on his face as he gazed back at you. You felt comfortable and secure with him because of the way he looked at you. It was as if he was silently telling you that he genuinely wanted you for you.
Suddenly, while taking a glance at your lips, he's asking you, “Can I take you out on a date, Y/N? Like, a proper one. I feel like I owe that to you after all I’ve done.”
In an instant, you’re blushing like mad. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re smiling before you even realize it. You just nod your head, telling him, “Yes, I’d really like that, George. Thank you.”
He doesn’t respond with words, merely gives you a quick squeeze and looks back at the book you were reading, silently encouraging you to finish the chapter you started earlier.
~
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neiptune · 7 months
Text
on the outside of the greatest inside joke
cw: 3k wc, female reader, reader goes to therapy, enemies to potential lovers, swearing, pining, you simply can't believe the same tsukki your best friend has told you about ends up being the biggest asshole you've ever met. thank you @tetsuskei for helping me with this one!!!
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Kenma’s pace is slow as he walks next to you, hands buried in the pockets of what is probably a very expensive jacket. He doesn’t seem fazed but you know he’s secretly pleased about the guy who stopped him right after getting off the subway, so pleased you had to gently pull him by the sleeve to remind him that it was getting late. The pout was there: no doubt, he would’ve loved to stay and spend the evening discussing fortnite strategies with a complete stranger who swore didn’t miss a single one of his streams.
“Why are you coming anyway?” he shoots you a glance from the corner of his eye “you could’ve spared yourself this torture”
“Tetsu insisted. I’m actually curious, I only ever met a few of your high school friends” you lightly nudge his shoulder with yours. He pulls a face.
“You’d like Shoyo but he couldn’t make it. The amplified version of him will be there, though”
“The amplified version?” you chuckle.
“Yeah. You’ll see”
“Stop pretending to be grumpy, I know you’re happy to see them again”
His golden eyes find your fond smile and he scoffs. “Tetsu insisted” 
“Whatever you say, Kenny”
“Don’t call me that ever again”
You stick your tongue out and Kenma rolls his eyes, turns his head the other way to hide a small smile. You’re actually happy you managed to form some sort of bond with him, somehow climb over the wall of paralizing shyness that has followed him like a shadow to his current quite popular, very successful days. Tetsu loves him dearly and so do you. Whether he sees you as a friend or as a presence that doesn’t necessarily bug him, isn’t really important. Kenma likes you enough to call to ask if you’d be down to head to the apartment together and gently take the bag containing the bottle of wine you insisted on bringing from your hand. That’s more than enough.
Tetsu’s apartment is in a fancy enough condominium, at walking distance from the Omotosando station. Aoto, the concierge, knows both you and Kenma by now and you bow to each other as soon as you walk through the carriage porch to enter the complex. Sometimes you still can’t believe the little kid with perpetually scraped knees who used to collect his ball from your backyard, toothy grin so big it took over his entire face, now has a house with heated floors and a freaking mist sauna.
A foreign, boisterous laugh echoes through the empty hallway the second you step out of the elevator and Kenma meets your astonished glance with a shrug. “Told you. Amplified”
The door swings open before you have the chance to knock, your handsome, disheveled friend grinning so hard his dimples are showing. “Finally! Took you long enough!” Tetsuro pulls you in a hug to tight you groan and a laugh rumbles in his chest at your playful attempts at pushing him back.
“Are you drunk already?” Kenma gets inside with outstanding nonchalance, skilfully escaping the hand that threatens to ruffle his perfectly styled hair. 
“Of course not, we were waiting for you to get the party started” you finally manage to escape his ironclad embrace but Kuroo simply refuses to let go and barely gives you the time to kick your shoes off before throwing an arm around your shoulders and quite literally pulling you inside.
There’s a small group of people crammed around the horigotatsu table in the living room. Despite his appetite for fanciness and expensive taste, Tetsu always preserved a sense of tradition that, to this day, brings him comfort. You remember the evenings spent at his grandparents’, all the dinners shared around that very same table.
“Everyone, please pay your respects to my second best friend in the entire world!” he pushes your head down in a forced bow with a grin and you swat his hand away with a chuckle.
“Oh my god, it’s you! Finally!” round, golden colored eyes that glimmer with sincere delight are suddenly in your line of vision, along with spiky grey hair and a muscular build that just screams pro-athlete.
“Hello!” you smile “I’m—”
“I know! Call me Kotaro!” he grabs your hand to energetically shake it but you can tell he’s barely containing the urge to suffocate you in a hug. Oh. You chuckle as realization suddenly washes over you. Of course you know who he is, too.
“Hi, Kotaro. You’re the first celebrity I get to meet”
He dramatically clutches his chest, astonished stare finding a very skeptical Kuroo who is looking at you with a frown.
“A celebrity. Oh, she’s wonderful. Where were you keeping her, Tetsuro? A celebrity. Keiji, did you hear that? She called me a celebrity! Can’t wait to tell Atsumu, he’s gonna hate it” Bokuto grins so wide you can’t help but mirror his genuine joy “come sit! Move over Tsukki, she’s sitting next to me” he locks his arm with yours and you slip out of your best friend’s hold with ease and a giggle. That is until Kotaro frees your sightline and you freeze on the spot as soon as your eyes find those of the last person you’d expect to find there, casually snacking on a bowl of senbei. His hand stills mid air when your gaze meets his stoic one.
“What the hell” he mutters, voice every bit as annoying as you recall. Somewhere on your forehead, a vein throbs.
“What the hell indeed” you turn to look at Kuroo with an outraged grimace distorting your features “you know him? As in he’s your friend?”
“Who, Tsukki?” Tetsuro cocks his head “yeah, of course? I’m sure I mentioned him more than once”
“That one’s Tsukki? The fun, talented, kind kohai from high school?!” it’s clear that skepticism is oozing from every syllabe and Kuroo is taken aback, mouth opening and closing like a koi fish. 
“I was never his kohai” the absolutely indifferent pitch makes your blood boil.
“I wasn’t asking you”
“Hmm” the hint of a smile teases his lips “you’re being kinda rude. Again”
“Okay, I’m honestly lost here” Kuroo clears his throat but Bokuto lets out an amused laugh at complete odds with your suddenly sour mood.
“Let’s sit, so you can tell us all about the fascinating sparks that are flying here” the wink he offers is met with a grimace.
“There are no sparks—”
“You haven’t met Keiji yet! Here, give me your coat, Tetsuro will take care of it” you’re quite literally dragged to the table and then down on the floor, before you can protest or beg Kenma to sit next to you. For some foreign reason, Bokuto has you uncomfortably squeezing between him and the last person you’d want to sit next to who, for the record, is doing absolutely nothing to make room for you. Which, unfortunately, means that your leg is flush against his and your arm is dangerously close to be grazing the sleeve of his black shirt.
“This is Akaashi” Kenma, sitting across from you, politely comes to the rescue and nods toward the one stranger you haven’t been introduced to yet.
“I’m sorry” you duck your head with an apologetic smile “nice to meet you. I promise I’m usually pleasant to be around”
The little smile he tosses back supports you immensely in the grim task of ignoring the snort that comes from your left. “You wouldn’t be able to endure Tetsuro if you weren’t”
“Yes, yes, that’s enough small talk” Kuroo, hands free from your coat, arms occupied with more snacks and the wine you brought, flops down next to Kenma and narrows his eyes “tell the story”
“What story?”
Tsukishima sighs, patience already running thin. “He’s asking about us. Not really the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?”
“I see, so you’re just as much of a pain in the ass in your everyday life too. As expected” you don’t even look at him as you accept the bowl of chips a frowning Tetsuro is offering. If Bokuto’s eyebrows could shoot higher, they’d be hanging on the ceiling by now.
“What happened?” Kuroo is one snarky comeback away from imploding.
“She’s the reason why I couldn’t get my coffee this morning” Tsukishima’s bored inflection is what prompts you to finally look at him. For a second, just a split second, you’re startled. By what, exactly? You’re not sure. He’s drinking from a can of beer so the pink on his cheeks was to be expected. What wasn’t expected is the speed at which his eyes dart to you in turn. Those glasses do an awful job at hiding just how big and brown they are. Are those golden specks? You’d have to get closer to find out but that would mean breathing in more of that masculine, woody cologne. Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how hot and sturdy his thigh feels against yours.
“Well, that’s an awfully long pause” Bokuto snickers from your right and you flinch, pulling back so abruptly your back hits his chest.
Tsukishima offers another one of his enigmatic smirks.
“He’s the reason we’ve been kicked out of the coffee shop” you grumble. The skin of your face feels on fire when you meet Kenma’s skeptical stare. You know him well enough to grasp that he’s clearly assuming something entirely different than what’s to assume.
“And that’s happened how?” Akaashi’s gentle voice serves as an anchor you find yourself grabbing onto for dear life.
“I’ll tell you exactly how that happened”
The place is busy and it’s your first time trying it out. The advice came directly from your therapist: trying something new opens up the possibility to find joy in something new. And that’s precisely why you’ve been staring at the list of hot beverages, cold beverages, drinks, cocktails, mocktails, teas, iced teas and desserts hung right behind the cashier.
“Have you decided?” the woman is smiling but you can tell her eye is one second away from starting to twitch.
“Uh, not yet? I’m sorry, just a second” your eyes keep frantically scanning the options over and over again but it’s like your brain is failing to register them, palms sweaty, self-awareness gnawing at your alarmed mind.
“Can you hurry up? Some of us can’t spend the day waiting in line” the sharp, annoyed voice makes you jump and you turn around to apologize, tears practically teasing the corners of your eyes already, but you find a young man looking back at you with such an infuriating scowl that the apology dies on your tongue.
“Menu is the other way” he points an annoyingly long finger toward the wall behind you “just get a cinnamon vanilla latte with soy milk and caramel drizzle or something and let’s get going”
The condescending, bordering mocking suggestion is what infuriates you the most and suddenly all the humiliation you were feeling leaves room for nothing but rage.
“Why don’t you learn to act as a civilized being instead of a primitive asshole?”
“You have ten people who’ve been waiting for you to make up your mind for the past hour and I’m the asshole?”
“I would be done by now if you hadn’t rudely interrupted me!”
“Hey…” the cashier attempts to chime in but your anxiety and frustration are getting the better of you and this stranger is just being so unnecessarily mean.
“And, for the record, that is so not my usual order!”
His eyebrows furrow and a tiny crease appears between them, right above the bridge of his infuriatingly petite nose.
“I’m sorry if I came off the wrong way” he balances the words carefully, with a seemingly sweet inflection “truth is, I couldn’t care less about your usual order. Just order anything before we all grow collectively old here”
You let out a scoff with an incredulous smile. “You really are the biggest prick I’ve ever met”
“I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to ask you both to leave” the cashier interrupts the ridiculous quarrel and the humiliation is back in all its glory, the annoyed stares of all those standing in line suddenly burning through your body.
“I hope you’re not insinuating that any of this is even remotely my fault” the stranger is visibly experiencing utter disbelief but really, you’re done. A quick bow to the cashier and a barely uttered apology to the strangers still waiting for their turn is all you manage to put together before heading out. Oh, the entire thing is going to become such a fun conversation to have with your therapist.
“Hope you’re happy, I only arrived in Tokyo half an hour ago and I’m already out of the best coffee in Ueno” the voice, the literal stuff nightmares are made of, follows you outside and once again you are denied a very much needed crying sesh. Jesus, fuck this guy. Seriously, fuck him. So what if you took a little too long? Hasn’t he ever heard of distress? Fatigue? Just how familiar is he with the human emotional spectrum exactly?
“You may as well choke on your next coffee for all I care” you direct him a saccharine smile and the way his jaw tenses can finally count as a small win.
“How civilized of you”
“Hope you have a horrible day!” you wave and turn around to march back to your neighborhood, to your favorite cafe, to the coffee order that hasn’t let you down once in the past ten years. Phone in hand, you’re already calling Tetsuro to tell him all about your horrible, horrible morning. Only to curse under your breath when, against all odds because who the hell could he even be talking to this early, you’re met with a busy tone.
“Wait, she’s the crazy coffee shop girl you were telling me about?” Kuroo stares at his friend in complete shock and Tsukishima’s lips twitch.
“Obviously”
Bokuto lets out a low whistle. “Wow. What a heated first encounter”
“I feel like I couldn’t properly convey just how presumptuous he was” you hope you have found an accomplice at least in Akaashi, who seems the only genuinely sane person in the room and yes, that’s including you firsthand.
“There’s no need, we’ve known him since high school” he succeeds in drawing a smile and you’re grateful. You wish you were sitting next to him instead of the annoyingly-tall-even-when-seated dude who scoffs once more.
“I feel so welcome, thank god I accepted to take part in this reunion” Tsukishima finishes his beer with a single, long sip.
“Of course you’re welcome, Kei!” Bokuto leans over from behind your back to squeeze his friend’s shoulder “you just need to hone your social skills some more!”
“She gets nervous” Kenma’s calm voice cuts through the conversation and, as it usually happens, all eyes turn to him in quiet surprise “in unfamiliar situations, when she’s doing something different. She gets nervous” he doesn’t look at you, he isn’t looking at anyone really. The dorayaki tray seems to be the only one deserving his undivided attention.
There’s a pause. Tetsuro’s stare softens when he locks eyes with you.
“Yeah, that’s true. Insecurity can be easily played off as aggressiveness, did you know?” his signature smirk is back when his eyes shift to Tsukishima. The leg still pressing against yours gets suddenly stiff.
“Enough talking about me” your chuckle sounds forced and Kenma looks up from the tray “I want to know all about high school and volleyball” you avoid his gaze and refuse to meet Tetsuro’s, the giant smile tense at the corners directed at Bokuto and Akaashi only.
They indulge you. In fact, they all do, and soon enough your little dispute is forgotten and the atmosphere gets less tense. You decide to be the bigger person and, instead of pretending Tsukishima isn’t even there, you politely look at him when he talks and laugh if any playful banter rises between him and Kuroo. You don’t notice that Tsukki looks and listens too, when you’re deep in conversation with someone else or reply to Bokuto’s dumb never have I ever statements. He finds it odd that you two end up drinking almost the same amount, a list of seemingly stupid shared experiences that grows longer the more the game continues around the circle.
Tsukishima Kei doesn’t feel guilty, he’s just good at admitting to himself when he’s wrong. Not that anyone else needs to know, of course. The habit of being too quick to judge others has followed him ever since high school and it annoys him that, as an adult, he still doesn’t know better. Does he want to make this right because he’s not sure he’ll have the chance to do so again? Is the beer clouding his mind, making his body move on autopilot when he gets up shortly after you disappear into Kuroo’s kitchen? Either way, he’s there when you turn around with a tray of fresh mini sandwiches and you’re not immediately bolting by him and he thinks this would be a wonderful time for his big brain to put a few judicious words together.
But then you awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other and clear your throat. “I’m sorry about this morning. And for insinuating that you’re a caveman” you shrink in yourself a little, head hanging lower.
“And for hoping I choke on my next coffee?”
You snort out what almost sounds like a laugh. “Yeah, definitely. That was mean. But, honestly, you—”
“I was an asshole” he calmly interrupts, the actual apology clawing at his throat to come out to no avail “happens a lot, or so I’m told”
When you finally look up from what you’re holding in your hands and your lips curl into a smile so sincere, Tsukishima almost smiles back. What the hell.
“Let’s chalk it up to us both having a bad morning. Deal?”
He stares for a second too long, then gently offers “deal” and you leave the kitchen with a friendly nod, fully missing out on the opportunity to catch an amused twitch of the lips, honeyed gaze turning inexplicably soft.
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wellofdean · 2 months
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Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.
They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.
Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.
It’s important. It does matter.
The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.
They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.
Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.
Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.
They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙
I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.
My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.
Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?
I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.
And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.
I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.
And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.
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