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tender-rosiey · 5 months

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“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”

— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)

a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3

GOJO SATORU:

a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.

anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.

the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.

another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.

his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”

now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.

your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.

one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.

a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.

you’ve won the battle.

but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.

“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”

you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”

“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.

he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”

you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”

your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”

he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.

you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”

your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”

you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.

“sweets, I wanna pee.”

taxing child.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.

so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.

you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.

anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.

the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.

it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.

you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.

now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.

and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.

your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”

you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.

after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.

you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”

“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”

you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”

“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”

you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.

“I tolerate you.”

“so love!”

“no.”

NANAMI KENTO:

jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.

a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.

it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.

things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.

“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”

nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”

you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”

“she is carrying a shotgun.”

“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”

“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”

you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.

from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.

however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”

“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.

you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.

you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”

he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”

you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”

slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.

he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”

GETO SUGURU:

the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.

your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.

you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.

so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.

“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”

you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”

his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”

you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.

so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”

“steal?”

you roll your eyes, “acquire.”

he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.

you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”

“no!”

“what?!”

“just kidding!”

and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.

people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.

you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”

he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”

you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.

you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”

“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.

he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“

“not!”

“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”

“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.

guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

toji and a wedding?

it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.

the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.

“do we really have to stay till the end?”

you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”

he shrugs, “so?”

with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.

the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.

you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.

toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.

so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.

that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.

you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”

a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.

you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.

feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”

suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”

you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”

he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.

you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”

“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.

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tinycoffeeroom · 1 month

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café de paris | max verstappen

face claim: none ᡣ𐭩

request: here !

a/n: all french / dutch is google translated blame them if it's wrong! race order is completely random here !

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📍café de paris, monaco

liked by bffstagram, friend1 and 294 others

y/nstagram me 🤝 café de paris

bffstagram bro those croissants look Fire ↳ y/nstagram my main source of sustenance in these hard monaco streets!

friend1 i have yet to see evidence of you shaking ass on a yacht miss y/n!! ↳ bffstagram so real... we're meant to be living vicariously through you!!! ↳ y/nstagram student finance doesn't stretch to yacht ass shaking, i can barely afford my daily caffeine fix 😭

friend2 oui oui hon baguette how is france? ↳ y/nstagram never let a monagesque hear you say that,,, bro i can't fight ↳ friend2 🫡 ... how is monaco?* ↳ y/nstagram 🫡 it's good!! def happy i chose here over france, even if my wallet doesn't agree 😭 ↳ friend2 we feeling fluent yet? ↳ y/nstagram oh god no, the other day this poor old lady tried explaining how to find the art museum to me and i just stared at her like 😶

friend3 spotted any f1 hotties yet? i hear they all camp out in monaco 👀 ↳ y/nstagram considering i have never watched a Single f1 race i couldn't tell you HAHAH i'm sure they're around here somewhere though ↳ friend3 dude i told you to brush up on f1 😭 how am i supposed to come visit you and have a meet cute with mr lando norris if you don't do your RESEARCH ↳ y/nstagram damn i see how it is,,, using me to get to your vroom vroom men,,,

3 weeks later

📍café de paris, monaco

�� alexandrasaintmleux liked by bffstagram, alexandrasaintmleux and 270 others

y/nstagram finally found someone else to join my café de paris obsession 🥐

bffstagram next bff sweetie run while you can... ↳ y/nstagram stop scaring the pretty bitches off damn 😔 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux bffstagram she won't let me leave 😭 ↳ y/nstagram i deserve better friends ↳ bffstagram you couldn't live without us xx ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux la prochaine fois, nous irons au casino ! (next time, we go to the casino!) ↳ y/nstagram finance étudiante a dit non (student finance said no) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😔 s'il tu plait... pour moi? 🥺 (please... for me?) ↳ y/nstagram pray for my wallet guys...

friend3 wdym you just casually befriended The Alexandra Saint Mleux??? ↳ y/nstagram i thought her skirt was pretty and had no idea she was like famous 😭 then we just kept running into each other !! ↳ friend3 i need to fly out to monaco damn you can't even see her in the pic but ik she looked So pretty... ↳ alexandrasaintmleux i like your friends y/n :p ↳ y/nstagram just wait til you see them drunk,,,

📍 jimmy'z, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 2,962 others

y/nstagram started the night in a night club and ended on a yacht,,, just monaco things (apparently) 🛥️

friend3 y/n if you don't answer my texts RIGHT NOW !!!! ↳ y/nstagram 😉 any reason ml? ↳ friend3 i'm gonna swim to monaco and bite chunks out of your ankles what the FUCK ??? when were you gonna tell me you were just casually hanging with [REDACTED] ↳ landonorris i'm guessing i'm redacted? 😎 ↳ friend3 i need to go lie down ↳ y/nstagram landonorris dude 😭 ↳ landonorris was it something i said? 😉

alexandrasaintmleux meilleure amie 💗 (best friend) ↳ y/nstagram merci de m'avoir invitée ! je t'aime ! (thank you for inviting me! love you!)

maxverstappen1 was lovely meeting you last night schat x ↳ y/nstagram you too max! don't forget to send me those pics of the kids! x ↳ bffstagram kids? ↳ y/nstagram his cats! jimmy and sassy! 🐱❤️🐱 ↳ bffstagram your knack for finding cat people never fails to impress me ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo dude my liver actually hurts... ↳ y/nstagram hey you're the one who suggested a drinking contest ↳ danielricciardo yeah because i normally WIN you freak ↳ y/nstagram i'm a broke uni student, my drink of choice is normally vodka so cheap it's legally paint stripper

georgerussell63 carmen's phone died but she said to remind you about brunch today ↳ y/nstagram on it!! alex is gonna come round and bring me 😊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 2,938 others

y/nstagram met some VIC's (very important cats) today! 🐱 also f's in chat for my café de paris 😔

bffstagram f ↳ danielricciardo f ↳ georgerussell63 f ↳ landonorris f ↳ carmenmmundt f ↳ alexandrasaintmleux f ↳ maxverstappen1 f

friend3 babies!! the second pic oh i could cry ↳ y/nstagram she slept there for like 3 hours 😭 managed to actually sit through a whole gp though so a wins a win! ↳ friend3 y/n watching f1?? who is she?? ↳ y/nstagram their dad forced me 💔 ↳ maxverstappen1 um who cheered so loud when i won that she woke poor sassy up?? ↳ y/nstagram 🤐

charles_leclerc i didn't know café de paris do takeout? ↳ maxverstappen1 they do if you're me :) ↳ y/nstagram the only reason i'm considering keeping him around 😉 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc and why have you never used your influence to get ME takeout café de paris "prince of monaco" ↳ charles_leclerc look what you've done... y/nstagram ♥️ y/nstagram

fan they're definitely max's cats but who is she? ↳ fan she knows alexandra so maybe they're in the same friendship group??

3 months later

liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 308 others

y/nstagram working hard or hardly working 🌸

alexandrasaintmleux quand avez-vous passé votre examen ? (when's your exam?) ↳ y/nstagram lundi prochain,,, mon ami du café me manque 😔 (next monday,,, missing my cafe friend) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux nous fêterons cela quand tu auras terminé 💗 (we'll celebrate when you're finished)

bffstagram the red bulls... i wait 3 years white man does it in one week ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ y/nstagram hey! made him wait at least 2 months :p

friend3 the f1 book.. one of us one of us!! ↳ y/nstagram apparently i can't keep saying "the one with the red cow on it" when talking about his car,,, ↳ maxverstappen1 its a bull... literally a red bull... ↳ y/nstagram blah blah blah it's red and goes moo ↳ maxverstappen1 everyday i wake up to such disrespect ↳ charles_leclerc i'm just glad someone's keeping your ego in check ♥️ y/nstagram

friend1 when are you coming back to england :( ↳ y/nstagram i'm hoping to come visit next month! ↳ maxverstappen1 about that...

📍 jeddah, saudi arabia

👤 redbullracing, mine liked by redbullracing, y/nstagram and 1,928,385 others

maxverstappen1 First P1 of the season at the first race! Always grateful to stand on that top podium, especially today 🙂

see 14,936 other comments

fan sorry WHO is that in the third pic????

fan bro soft launching on a race win post...

y/nstagram trots op jou ❤️ proud of you ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ fan 🤨

fan did you guys see the way his girl jumped the fence to get to him after he won? relationship goals fr

schecoperez another red bull 1-2! 💪 ↳ maxverstappen1 you gave me a run for my money at the end there old man! ↳ schecoperez less of the old thank you

redbullracing rue when was this ↳ fan admin finding out about max's relationship at the same time as us is so on brand ↳ redbullracing and here i thought we were besties 😔 ↳ maxverstappen1 😉

danielricciardo you look hot in the second photo and it's not just the heat 😍 ↳ fan maxiel lives on ❤️

fan he tagged her as mine BROOOOOO who's got this man so down bad??

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 194 others

🔒 y/nstagram account locked DOWN but it's so worth it for you ❤️

maxverstappen i'm sorry liefje i should have thought about this before inviting you... ↳ y/nstagram i don't regret going maxie,,, and i certainly don't regret hugging you after the race,, i knew what i was getting into, it's just a lot ❤️ ↳ maxverstappen1 ik ben gek op jou ❤️ (i'm crazy about you) ↳ y/nstagram mijn charmante prins ❤️ (my prince charming)

alexandrasaintmleux you do what's best for you ma cocotte 💗 honestly going private at the start of mine and charles' relationship was one of the best things for us ↳ y/nstagram the woe of being a wag 😔

daniel.jpg dude can you accept my follow request ↳ maxverstappen1 you followed her from your jpg acc but not your main? ↳ daniel.jpg never said i was smart ↳ charles_leclerc ^ ↳ georgerussell63 ^ ↳ landonorris ^ ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ maxverstappen1 ^ ↳ y/nstagram ^ ↳ oscarpiastri ^ ↳ daniel.jpg oscarpiastri HOW DID YOU GET HERE?? you haven't even MET y/n yet ↳ y/nstagram that's my son watch your tone. ↳ daniel.jpg i am very sorry miss y/n l/n PLEASE let me in ↳ y/nstagram oscarpiastri shall i? ↳ oscarpiastri lemme think on it ↳ daniel.jpg i hate it here

📍 suzuka, japan

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 1,394,582 others

redbullracing a quick look into max's garage! already over halfway through the season and your current world champion is on track for his 4th year running 💪

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maxverstappen1 you know how we do 👊

fan i see a y/n at the back!! ↳ fan who is y/n? ↳ fan his gf! she was first spotted in jeddah and she's been to quite a few of his races this year! ↳ fan do you have her ig? ↳ fan y/nstagram but it's private!

fan 4 time world champ incoming! ♥️ redbullracing

user lewis is gonna reclaim his title! ↳ fan ok gramps lets get you back to the home

fan best team in the world

user oh the gold digger is back ↳ redbullracing blocked, deleted and reported ↳ fan red bull stand on business ↳ redbullracing no one messes with OUR redbull girl! 👊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 274 others

🔒 y/nstagram did you know red bull gives you wings? 👼

maxverstappen1 must have taken you forever to think of that caption ↳ y/nstagram what can i say you're dating a comedic genius

friend1 damn ma lend me one of those jackets xx ↳ y/nstagram omg pls take one he won't stop giving them to me,,, ↳ friend1 i'll take the white cap too if you're offering 👀 ↳ y/nstagram 🫡

bffstagram the third pic... y/n STAND UP ↳ y/nstagram he has the prettiest eyes 😍 my man my man my maaaaan ↳ bffstagram we've lost her boys...

alexandrasaintmleux i see the ferrari jacket 👀 ↳ y/nstagram max nearly threw me out of the room fr ↳ maxverstappen1 you deserved it ↳ maxverstappen1 also i'm burning it when you're not looking ↳ y/nstagram charlie gave it to me :((((( ↳ charles_leclerc yeah max you wouldn't burn sweet charlie's jacket would you? ↳ maxverstappen1 i'd burn you IN the jacket if you don't stop ↳ charles_leclerc 🫦 damn i love when you talk dirty to me ↳ y/nstagram ,,, alexandrasaintmleux should we leave them to it? ↳ alexandrasaintmleux after what you showed me on tumblr... yeah maybe we should

daniel.jpg loving the drip ↳ maxverstappen1 has she still not accepted your main follow request? ↳ daniel.jpg no... i know it's oscars fault somehow ↳ oscarpiastri why am i catching strays? ↳ y/nstagram i watched baku 2018 ,, you're lucky i don't block your jpg account ↳ daniel.jpg THAT WAS SO LONG AGO LET ME INNNNNNN

📍 zandvoort, the netherlands

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by y/nstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1,998,928 others

redbullracing and maxverstappen1 getting P1 and being crowned a 4 time world champion at the final race of the season AND your home race? max verstappen we tip our hats to you 💙

see 98,284 comments

fan him lifting the trophy and mouthing "this is for you" to y/n i am so lonely oh my god

y/nstagram mijn kampioen ❤️ (my champion) ♥️ redbullracing, maxverstappen1

fan max verstappen world domination!! lets go champ!!!

fan y'know maybe the dutch national anthem isn't too bad...

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by bffstagram, maxverstappen1 and 290,948 others

y/nstagram i moved to monaco for a degree in french and fell for a dutchman,,,

max, it has been a privilege to know you, to share your happiness and to love and be loved by you. watching you do what you do best fills me with so much joy and i can't wait to see you dominate the track for many more years. here's to you. ik hou van je, mijn kampioen ❤️ (i love you, my champion)

(also hi fans of max, i am very scared about being perceived by so many of you, please be nice ❤️)

maxverstappen1 mijn hart en ziel, ik weet niet hoe ik het in het Engels moet uitdrukken maar bedankt dat je in mijn leven bent gekomen, je maakt alles een beetje mooier. ik hou van je ❤️ (my heart and soul, i don't know how to express it in english but thank you for coming into my life, you make everything a little brighter. i love you) ↳ y/nstagram maxie 🥹 can't wait to celebrate you tonight ❤️

fan hi y/n!!! glad you felt comfortable enough to come off private! we're a nice bunch i promise! (at least most of us are) ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan also if anyone is mean to you i will do something that puts me on the national news 🫶

fan we've only seen glimpses of her on tv, max you bagged a baddie DAMN ♥️ maxverstappen1

fan mama y papa ↳ landonorris real ↳ oscarpiastri real

danielricciardo I'M IN !!! ↳ danielricciardo WAIT YOU WENT OFF PRIV??? y/n thats so mean wtf :(

alexandrasaintmleux mon couple préféré 💗 (my favourite couple) ↳ y/nstagram c'est grâce à toi alex, je t'aime 💕 (it's all thanks to you alex, love you)

👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 1,386,297 others

maxverstappen1 an appreciation post for mijn liefje. being able to put up with me dragging her halfway across the world nearly every month so i can drive fast cars whilst studying for her degree. graduated top of her class (with an elective in dutch 😉). here's to you and to us. (oh and happy 11 months, i may love you a little bit) ❤️

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y/nstagram my boy ❤️ could't have done it without your support ↳ maxverstappen1 i know, i am an Amazing boyfriend 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram

landonorris congrats y/n! knew there had to be a big brain in that ol' noggin of yours ↳ y/nstagram thanks lan! maybe i can actually teach you some french now 🤓

fan taking a long walk off a very short bridge

redbullracing congratulations to the brains of the couple! hoped you liked the gifts 💙 ↳ y/nstagram a dutch for dummies book, you think you're so funny don't you 😐

fan the flowers 😭😭😭

fan doesn't post about his championship but posts about his girl... need me a man like that

#max verstappen smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #max verstappen x you

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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 18)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,762

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Masterlist]

Notes: I'm sobbing btw.

_________________________________________

The exhibition is in full swing.

There had been a speech from Thesan, gushing over how long he’s wanted to host a showing for Azriel, and then he had to give one himself. Azriel kept it punctual and short and so like himself that you couldn’t help but smile.

The conversation is loud and people seem to be enjoying themselves, couples admiring the strokes of charcoal streaked across canvas, the picturesque drawings he’s made come to life. They are so realistic that they look like black and white photographs. You can see the way that his art resonates with people, allowing your eyes to wander after you pass over a short greeting to someone that wants to speak with Azriel.

A few times has he looked at you and caught you staring at the centerpiece of his exhibition, your intense gaze watching with a predatory glint as if protective over the artwork. He can easily tell that it is your favorite, and he finds himself itching to know why you seem so drawn to it, watching the patrons at the party ogle and comment, watching their reactions.

He notices, too, how you haven’t left his side all night, as if you somehow know that he needs the familiarity around this many strangers, who he’s allowed to come to his exhibition, judging not only his art, but him, and his hands.

Azriel doesn’t have to ask you, the brush of the skirt of your dress against his leg or the whisper of your arm against his is more than enough, even if his fingers twitch to reach out to cling tightly to yours. He keeps a firm hold on his full glass of champagne, not a single drop gone. It’s the same one he hands to you when you’ve downed yours during your glaring contest with the guest currently standing a little too close to his art for your liking.

Azriel doesn’t like feeling so exposed like this. It’s another thing that he and his therapist have talked about often, his need to open up more, to allow the uncomfortable to become comfortable.

He can’t hide in his room forever.

The night is slowly winding down, which is perfect because he’s exhausted from playing host. Tired of fake-smiling and laughing at shitty jokes, tired of people staring at his hands, staring at you, all pretty in your dress. He wants to kick everyone out and then kick himself for missing your reaction to every picture he hung in this gallery, if the response he’d gleaned from you over his centerpiece was as exquisite as you.

He’s never shown off something so private before, and to strangers nonetheless. Technically, he could consider you a stranger, too, because he knows next to nothing about you, but you’re more of a comfort in this sea of people than not.

He feels like a circus animal here, so vulnerable with the spotlight on him. People see him as a strong, confident, brooding man most of the time, not to be fucked with, but it’s not who he used to be, not before the accident. There was a time where he smiled more, was more extroverted, when he and Cassian and Rhys would wreak havoc across the university grounds, spraypaint buildings and party to their hearts content, but ever since that fucking night when his world changed, he hasn’t been the same.

He hasn’t been that boy in a long time.

He peeks at you again, because the man before him is talking numbers for one of his pieces and it doesn’t sound remotely close to what it is worth to Azriel. His heart stutters in his chest at your beauty, those feline eyes watching the room as if daring someone to try something, say something.

He can’t look away from you and you can’t look away from the artwork, completely entranced by the two hands, the two sides of him, split and unsure he’ll ever really be whole again. This entire exhibition is about it, about new beginnings, letting go of the old and trying to accept the new. How hard he has had to work to build up to this point in his life again.

And maybe someday he’ll share it with his roommates, his best friends, but for now, Azriel is more than content to only share this moment with you.

The longer you look away from him the more nervous he becomes, because he wants to talk to you, wants to figure out the unknown draw that itches his body when you’re around. He wants to be able to see this through your eyes, hear your thoughts on each piece even if it takes all fucking night, he won’t sleep anyway.

“Sure,” he responds lamely to the man in front of him. Some sort of art connoisseur, he claimed. Said that he could see the next big thing before it happened, and that Azriel was going to shoot up the ladder fast, and that he had to have one of his pieces. Too bad he doesn’t know that Azriel doesn’t want charcoal to be first priority, tattooing is. “Let Thesan know I accept.”

He doesn’t shake the man's hand, doesn’t shake anyone’s hand, but he places it on your lower back and there are those stunning eyes, pinned on him as electricity zips up your exposed spine. Those eyes make him a weaker man, even more so when he hardly had any use of his hands at all. Those eyes can tear him down with one glance, break his walls too quickly, so quickly that his only defense against them is to pretend he doesn’t want anything to do with you at all. To piss you off and annoy you so you can’t see what he truly wants.

He answers your questioning look with a nod of his head. He needs to offer his thanks for those attending, even more so for the ones that purchased pieces, and after that, the gallery will close and the night will come to an end.

Neither you nor Azriel want it to, but neither of you will speak it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“I’m sorry, you know,” he says after the gallery empties out and it’s just the two of you.

Even Thesan is gone now, allowing Azriel to lock up after he had requested a few final hours with the artwork he has created before it’s all packaged up and shipped out after the exhibition ends in four weeks.

You’re both sat against the wall opposite the centerpiece, staring at it, half a bottle of champagne in. You’d kicked your shoes off as soon as the last person had left the building, feet screaming in pleasure as you got off of them for a bit.

You’ve let your hair down from its style too, complaining about the pins holding it tight to your head. You’re a few more glasses of champagne in than Azriel, having needed the liquid courage to both numb your feet and keep you from overthinking most of the night, but now, alone with Azriel, you feel more relaxed, slumping against the wall.

You blink up at him. His eyes are a little hazy from the drink but he’s staring down at you, gold eyes honest and raw.

“You’re sorry?” you question in disbelief and he nods. You huff, nearly knocking over your glass of champagne sitting on the floor next to you when you throw your hands out, gesturing to the room. “I’m finally getting the apology that I deserve and there’s no one here to witness it?!”

A smile cracks his lips and your breath hitches slightly. You didn’t realize how close he was sitting to you, shoulders brushing with each breath. Your cheeks burn and you hope that for once the alcohol has done its job and they were already the color of an apple. You turn back to the picture before you, trying not to focus on the rapid beating of your heart, his gaze on your face and his breath dancing across your cheek.

“I was an asshole that night,” he sighs, tipping his head back against the wall. He drains his glass in long sips, throat bobbing with each swallow. If you look at it, you might take a bite.

“Yeah,” you giggle, because how can you not when you feel on top of the world. You’ve just gotten an apology out of the Azriel Teller. You could scream it from the rooftops. You would if your feet weren’t aching so badly. “You were.”

“Would you care to know why I was such a dick that night?” he asks so quietly you almost don’t hear it. The smile fades from your face and he’s already looking at you again, something like remorse and nervousness swimming in those gold pools.

You swallow hard.

Azriel wipes his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants.

“If you want to,” you answer, just as softly. You hadn’t been expecting this out of the night, especially not this, sitting in an art gallery with the one person who has made it their mission to annoy the fuck out of you from the start of the year.

You hadn’t been expecting to enjoy his company so much, either.

Azriel knows that he doesn’t need to do this. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you, but after tonight, he wants to. He wants to tell you everything, about the parking, his failed internships, the strained relationship he has with his father, his hands.

You look like you’re more than willing to listen to him, this time.

Azriel says fuck it, forgetting his empty glass in favor of bringing the champagne bottle to his lips for a deep swig. His tongue darts out to swipe a droplet from his pink lips and you lean forward without realizing it, nearly flinching back when he grimaces at the taste.

“You don’t really drink much, do you, Azriel?” you ask, and the sound of his name rolling off your tongue like that—all silky and smooth—has him shuddering.

He wants to hear you say it again.

He shrugs instead, letting out a sad chuckle that makes your heart ache. He picks at the corner of the label with his nail, suddenly shy when moments ago he’d been ready to share this with you.

Azriel takes a deep breath, and answers. “I don’t drink that often anymore,” his voice sounds hoarse, like he’s been screaming for the past three hours straight. “It makes my hands shake more.”

He can feel the way you’re looking at them now, feel it as hot as the fires that had fried the nerve endings in them.

Slowly, gently, but with all of the intention that you have, you pry his hand from the bottle, and intertwine your fingers with his.

He doesn’t flinch at the contact, but the action makes his heart stop. He can’t breathe as he stares down at your interlocked fingers. Your hand is soft against his, so dainty and perfectly sized against his that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, he no longer knows how to speak.

“Then don’t drink,” you say, trying to take the bottle from his other hand with your free one. He refuses to let go, bringing it back up to his mouth for another sip.

“I need the confidence right now,” he mutters, still staring at your locked fingers. “But when I don’t,” he exhales harshly, throat tight. “It feels like my hands aren’t even connected to my fucking brain. Which is kind of why I was such an ass the day we met.” He sees the questioning look on your face and explains. “Not because I was drinking, but because of my hands. I was at an interview for an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor and they said that my lines were too shaky. They turned me down, and it had been the third opportunity I didn’t get because of this fucking mess.”

Azriel’s chest heaves and he glares down at his marred fingers. Anger burns his chest. He shouldn’t even be touching you, not with the disgusting flesh stretched back over his muscle and bones.

He tries to untangle his fingers from yours but you hold firm, consoling him. “Hey, Azriel, stop it.”

“You don’t get it, (Y/N),” he’s frustrated, you know. “All I wanted to do is become a tattoo artist and now my dream is completely fucked because of my step-brothers,” he spits, and your shocked gasp and wide eyes have the story spilling from his lips. He holds so tightly to your hand that it almost hurts, but he needs this and you won’t let go. “That’s right, my own step-brothers poured gasoline all over my hands in my father’s garage because they found out I was lying about being a business student like he so desperately wanted me to be.” His voice is thick, wet, and tears well in your eyes. You bite your lip to hold in your sob, but Azriel can’t even look at you right now. “They fucking lit me up like the fucking fourth of july, and now i can hardly hold a tattoo gun for a long period of time, let alone draw a goddamn straight line.”

Oh my Gods. Tears spill over because this is the worst thing you think you’ve ever heard in your life. Your stomach roils, and the champagne might make a reappearance. How could anybody, let alone his family, do something like this? It’s utterly fucking evil, and vile and…and…you can’t even think of another word to describe what Azriel has gone through.

The centerpiece of his exhibition suddenly makes sense. On the left, his hand before the accident, unmarked and perfect. On the right, how his hand is now, shaky and destroyed.

You don’t know what to do, what to say. Your tongue won’t form a single word because your brain can’t form any. You’re in complete and utter shock at his revelation. You can’t stop the ringing of his words in your head. Azriel is shaking like a leaf, his grip tight around your hand. His breathing is harsh, loud in the otherwise silence of the gallery, eyes squeezed tightly shut as if trying to block out the memories.

Azriel’s voice is tight, a low grind when he speaks again. “Those drawings,” he gestures vaguely towards the door. You try to blink your tears away, but each droplet that falls is replaced by two more. You don’t need to look, though, you remember his art perfectly. “I drew those ones as soon as I could pick up a piece of chalk after the incident. Hurt like fucking hell,” his chuckle is wet, false, “and even more so to clean the powder from my hands. It helped to wear gloves, but when they were still healing the tightness felt like I was being burned all over again.”

He doesn’t have any trouble with them now, often preferring to wear the latex to cover the devastating scars he will have to live with for the rest of his life.

“Azriel,” you croak, but he shakes his head and you go quiet. He’s not quite done yet.

“This exhibition is about new beginnings,” he explains, finally cracking those golden eyes open. They drag over every single piece of work that he’s created. The despair, anger, agony, slowly turning into something steadier, stronger, and happier. He’s not completely there yet, but he’s hoping that someday he can look down at his hands and be proud of what he’s accomplished.

He untangles his fingers from yours and pushes to his feet before helping you up. You stand, hand in hand once again, but instead of looking at the art on the walls, you’re looking at him. His life, on display for all to judge. Azriel might not be able to see it, but you think he’s the strongest person you know. He’s overcome these obstacles, and keeps working towards that goal daily. You are in awe of him.

Finally, his gaze slides to yours and the rawness in them is your undoing. It’s fitting, you think, that his exhibition is about new beginnings, and this feels so much like one. There isn’t anything to hold against him. He’s apologized, done much more than that. He’s let you in on something that not many people know about him. He’s trusted you with his past.

Which is what makes you breathe out a hasty, “I’m sorry too,” and pull Azriel in for a kiss.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist P.1: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19 @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #midnight muse #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #artist!azriel #art school au #tattoo artist!azriel

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asdfghjklmals · 2 months

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GRADUATION✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. mentions mental health. WORD COUNT: 3.4k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. lover girl!oc. high school lovers.

SYNOPSIS: satoru and oc gojo girlfriend finally graduate from tokyo jujutsu high school! AUTHOR'S NOTE: happy easter and graduation season for those who are graduating this year! 💚 i realized that when i was writing this, oc gojo girlfriend loves satoru so much. i used to write that satoru loved her more, but after this fic, i'm not so sure lol. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, please do!

tokyo jujutsu high library

“who’s most likely to be on the bachelor?” you asked your bestfriend, shoko ieiri.

even though he wasn’t graduating this year, you and shoko both said in unison, “kento nanami.”

you giggled at the thought of how uncomfortable nanami would be as a bachelor contestant, “you know nanami would absolutely hate being on the bachelor though.”

shoko nodded her head in agreement while reading the other high school superlatives. “what about life of the party?”

again in unison, “satoru gojo.”

“how about this one?” shoko asked, “most likely to sleep through an earthquake.”

“if that’s not me, it has to be tsumiki.” you laughed out loud, knowing that your sleep was sacred to you and nothing could wake you up, “—and worst case of senioritis goes to you, shoko.”

shoko couldn’t disagree with that superlative. she grinned and read the next prompt.

“cutest couple obviously goes to you and gojo.” shoko chuckled before sighing. she pursed her lips, “ah—best bromance…”

“you already know who that should’ve went to,” you said with a soft frown, “satoru has been having a hard time this week—he thinks he’s good at hiding his emotions from me, but i know him too well.”

this week was your graduation ceremony for your whopping class of 3 tokyo jujutsu high sorcerers. jujutsu high school graduations weren’t that big of a celebration like most traditional high school graduations, but it was still important for the school to commemorate their young sorcerers on graduating—and also even making it to graduation given the dangers of being a sorcerer.

suguru geto, who was also known as satoru’s other half, his one and only, wasn’t able to be here to graduate with you, shoko, and satoru due to his decision to go his own way. suguru had a different vision in life, and he decided to leave everything behind to achieve it—including leaving behind his bestfriend, satoru. (read ‘to be present’ here)

shoko sighed as you looked back at her. it must’ve also been hard on shoko, who was a part of their trio. sashisu was shoko’s, satoru’s, and suguru’s group name. they were practically inseparable before you came along.

“suguru should’ve been here too.” shoko said quietly.

you patted her back softly, a measly attempt to comfort her, “i know.”

you heard the library door slide open, satoru waltzed through the door with a blue lollipop in his hand.

“you done perfecting your valedictorian speech yet?” satoru asked as he sat down beside you, kicking his feet on top of the library table as you and shoko closed out of the yearbook superlative tab.

you smiled warmly at him, “yeah, it’s been done.”

of course you were the valedictorian of your class. you took your studies very seriously compared to shoko and satoru. not only were you the valedictorian, but you also planned the graduation dinner that followed the very short ceremony. as the student body president, you had a lot to take care of this past month.

“can’t wait to hear it,” satoru said with a grin, “i better be getting a shoutout in your speech.”

“a shoutout for what?” shoko teased, “being (y/n)’s biggest pain in the ass the past three years she’s been here?”

satoru gasped, “more like being the biggest love of her life! if it wasn’t for jujutsu high, she would have never met me, shoko!”

you laughed at the two bantering back and forth before staring out into the distance. it was beautiful sunny day. tomorrow, you'd be graduates.

later that night

you shot a glare at your boyfriend, “satoru, did you iron your uniform for tomorrow like i asked you to?”

he smiled innocently at you, tilting his frosty head to the side in his attempt to look cute—which meant 'whoops, no'.

you sighed and held out your hands while satoru passed you his uniform with a grin, attempting to sneak a kiss on your cheek. you tried your best not to burst out laughing. hell, you were so in love with this man.

you popped off his jujutsu high pins and set them on his nightstand before stepping out of his room to head to the campus laundry room.

you heard satoru call out to you as you walked down the hallway.

“thanks sweetheart! i love you!”

a smile danced across your face. that satoru gojo whom you loved so silly, what were you going to do with him?

as you waited for the iron to heat up, you recited your graduation speech in your head. you were nervous. what if you tripped down the stairs while you grabbed your diploma from principal yaga? what if you messed up your valedictorian speech? or worse, what if you embarrassed yourself in front of the entire jujutsu high faculty and alumni?

"your forehead is going to have lines for days if you don't stop scowling."

you turned around at the familiar voice. satoru had come to find you.

"you can pay for my botox then." you retorted, sighing as you turned around to face him.

"what could your pretty little head be thinking about?" satoru asked. he hated to see anything but a smile on your face. “i know it’s not about how much you love me.”

you scoffed and chewed on your bottom lip before you grabbed the iron, gliding it down satoru's uniform.

"i'm worried i'm going to trip down the stairs, mess up my speech, or just completely embarrass myself in front of the jujutsu high faculty and alumni."

satoru gave you the ‘are you kidding me’ look and took the hot iron from your hands. he set it down on the ironing board and grabbed your shoulders.

"look at me." he commanded before resting his finger under your chin to guide your face to his, "sweetheart, the (y/n) (l/n) i know is perfect in every way. you walk confidently like this world is yours even in the highest heels, so i know for a fact that you won't trip down the stairs. you are a natural born leader and people gravitate towards you, so i know that your speech will grab everyone’s attention. you won't mess up because you've been working on this for the last month, i know that because i've been right by your side while you recited your speech a million times. and lastly, you won't embarrass yourself in front of everyone because you're perfect in almost every way. you're the pride and joy of the jujutsu community."

you pouted your lips and tilted your head to the side, "perfect in almost every way?"

"you're mean to me—" satoru teased before pressing a kiss against your lips, "—you don't kiss me in the mornings. which is a deduction to your perfect score."

you giggled as he peppered kisses on your cheek. one of your love languages was words of affirmation, and satoru gojo sure knew how to make you feel affirmed. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close.

"i guess this meanie will sleep with the kids tonight." you whispered as you bantered back with satoru, knowing he'd rather sleep next to you than sleep alone.

he paused and squeezed you tightly before replying to your retort, "wait, i like you even though you're mean. you can bully me all you want, i don't mind."

yours and satoru's laughter filled the laundry room. he didn't think he could get enough of your precious laugh. he'd say any ridiculous thing to help take your mind off of your worries.

the next day: graduation day

"thank you for coming to the 2010 jujutsu high school gradation ceremony." principal yaga began, "after we hear from both myself and principal gakuganji, we will listen to the speeches from the valedictorians of both high schools."

you sat between satoru and shoko, your legs would not stop bouncing in nervousness. after each speech, your heart started to race even faster as your turn came.

"and lastly, we saved the best for last. the valedictorian of tokyo jujutsu high school, (y/n) (l/n), will be giving her speech."

the crowed filled with jujutsu high faculty, alumni, a large amount of jujutsu clans including the gojo clan and your clan started to clap as their eyes followed you to the stage. satoru gave you an encouraging smile and squeezed your hand. he whispered ‘you'll be amazing.’ to you before he let your hand go. you gave him a soft smile before getting out of your seat.

you walked down the side of the auditorium and up the steps to the microphone.

"thank you for gathering here today to celebrate the 4 long years of training, learning, and dealing with satoru gojo." the crowed erupted in laughter as you winked at satoru. he shot a grin back at you.

“i'd like to start off with a moment of silence to remember our fallen comrades and past alumni who have sacrificed their lives to become sorcerers and to protect our community. they have our gratitude and highest appreciation.”

as you gave yourself and the crowd a moment of silence, your heart raced. you were so nervous, your hands started trembling as you fiddled with your printed speech in front of you.

'you won't mess up because you've been working on this for the last month, i know that because i've been right by your side while you recited your speech a million times.'

memories of satoru's encouraging words from last night filled your head as you took a deep breath to continue on with your speech.

"3 years ago, i joined tokyo jujutsu high because i wanted to get away from being home schooled and i wanted to experience this thing called life." you looked out into the crowd to see your clan, quietly watching you. "i didn't know what i was getting myself into at the time, but i have to say, the past three years have been some of the hardest, but most rewarding." (read 'love at first fight' here)

you thought back on the gruesome hand-to-hand combat trainings with mei mei, the tiring, long, and dangerous missions exorcising curses with satoru, suguru, yu, and nanami, the late night study sessions for exams with shoko. as difficult as it was, you'd do it all over... especially if you could meet satoru again.

"i'd like to give a huge shoutout to yaga-sensei, congratulations on your promotion to principal—and thank you for taking on not only two, but three special grade sorcerers during my time here."

a cheer for your sensei, masamichi yaga, erupted through the auditorium as you, satoru, and shoko clapped alongside the crowd.

"this evening is not only about celebrating our academic achievements as students, but also to celebrate becoming official jujutsu sorcerers. now i know that being a jujutsu sorcerer isn't for the faint of heart, nor is it an easy job. it's gruesome, painful not only physically, but mentally. which is why i'm happy to announce that our very own shoko ieiri is going to be hired on as our official in-house doctor for jujutsu high. she will oversee both tokyo and kyoto locations. congrats, shoko!"

applause began for shoko as she stood up from her seat and waved to the crowd. you smiled brightly at your bestfriend—even though you knew she cheated on a majority of her tests. however, shoko's talent in reversed cursed technique was second to none. she would be an amazing doctor, legit or not.

"one thing that happened during my 3 years here at tokyo jujutsu high school that changed my life for the better was—"

satoru muttered, attempting to finish your sentence, "—meeting satoru gojo."

"—becoming a guardian to megumi and tsumiki fushiguro. courtesy of satoru gojo." you laughed, "which i'm also happy to announce that satoru and i will be returning next year to join the tokyo jujutsu high faculty and staff. satoru will be in charge of training first year students while i will be the administrative secretary for both tokyo and kyoto jujutsu high locations." (read 'learn to love' here)

you cleared your throat, "now that we've shared the fun and exciting plans for your three graduates from tokyo jujutsu high school, i'd like to talk about something on a heavier note. those of you who know, know that there was supposed to be 4 students graduating today..."

you felt a lump in your throat, the thought of suguru geto not being here with you, satoru, and shoko shattered a piece of your heart. you were sure satoru and shoko were thinking of him in this moment as well.

"—because of this loss, as the future administrative secretary, i will be implementing reviews and mental health checks on all of our students every quarter. i believe that we need to check in on our students. my office doors will always be open to those who need a shoulder to lean on."

you understood that the idea of mental health was taboo, especially here in japan—but you knew that if you and satoru were going to be raising the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers, that you both were going to make a difference in the lives of your future students. megumi and tsumiki also encouraged that decision, as you and satoru did not want to see them suffer the same fate as suguru.

a loud applause struck the auditorium. satoru smiled proudly as he knew that you were going to make a positive change in the jujutsu society—and with you by his side, he could take on the impossible. even if that meant butting heads with the higher ups and starting out training first year sorcerers. he was going to make this experience fun and exciting for not only you and him, but for his future students as well.

you heard cheering from the gojo clan and your own clan. you saw touya and his new girlfriend, kana, hooting and hollering from their seats. you continued to shine brightly under the auditorium lights.

"before i end my little speech, there are some personal thank you's that i'd like to give. to megumi and tsumiki—you two are my perfect little angels and i will continue to strive to be a good role model for you both. to my fellow classmates—thank you for all the late night study sessions, the delicious meals in the dining hall, fun-filled sleepovers, and wild class trips. to my loving grandparents, genkei and kanao, and my brother, touya—thank you for believing in me and always pushing me to be the best i can be. to the gojo clan—thank you for always supporting me and for giving me someone like satoru." you smiled at the gojo clan's presence in the crowd and then turned back to face satoru. (read 'meet the gojos' here)

satoru gojo was beaming brightly, just like he always did. his blue eyes shined back at yours, awaiting your next line of thanks. your eyes watered as the love you felt for the white-haired sorcerer overflowed from your heart.

"lastly, thank you satoru—for believing in me and loving me unconditionally every single day since the first day we met on the sparring field."

you took one last deep breath and shouted, "congratulations jujutsu high school class of 2010! we made it!"

a final applaud erupted throughout the auditorium. you laughed in relief as you finished your speech and wiped the almost formed tears from your eyes. you watched as the crowd stood up in a standing ovation.

in a crowd full of people, your eyes could spot satoru gojo in a heartbeat.

later that night

after the graduation dinner, you and satoru sat outside in the courtyard of tokyo jujutsu high. the twinkle lights you ordered for the staff to use as decor danced against the night sky, illuminating the courtyard with a soft warm glow. and behind that warm glow, satoru's cerulean blue eyes glimmered. you could have sworn satoru had a blush on his face, almost as if he was embarrassed about something.

“can you believe we’re finally graduated?” you asked satoru in disbelief.

the last 3 years had flown by. you were officially graduated from tokyo jujutsu high. the next step this summer was to move out of the dorms and find a home to fit you, satoru, megumi, and tsumiki.

“not quite yet,” satoru said as he starting to unpin his buttons from his uniform. you gave him the 'what are you doing' look. he chuckled at your reaction.

satoru took off the second button from his uniform, taking your hand to place his button in your palm.

“now we’re officially graduated.”

in japan, there's a high school tradition for boys to give the second button of their uniform to the girl that they loved. this act has a special meaning that is equal to a heartfelt confession.

“isn’t it a no brainer that i should be receiving this button?” you giggled. you admired the button of his uniform in your palm, a sign of affection that basically said that you were his.

satoru leaned in towards your face, sneaking a kiss on your cheek. he wrapped his arms around you as you melted in his embrace.

“actually, you don't even have to answer, satoru. you’ve loved me for almost 3 years. it's a no brainer.”

“you mean i put up with a mean girlfriend for 3 years?” satoru laughed boisterously. he let go of you and booped your nose playfully. his signature cheshire grin spread across his face.

you grabbed his hand to hold his palm against your cheek, teasing him, "since i'm so mean, will you put up with another 3 years of no good morning kisses?"

the white haired sorcerer continued to grin, "i'll think about it."

you rolled your eyes at how dramatic satoru could be and mumbled under your breath, "you know how i feel about morning breath."

"yeah, yeah." satoru mumbled back at you, "gimme a congratulatory graduation kiss then."

you wrapped your arm around satoru's shoulders and planted a firm kiss on his lips. satoru pulled away from you and smiled, amused with how the night was going.

"sweetheart, i'd put up with another lifetime of no good morning kisses if you asked me to. as long as i get to wake up next to you every morning." (read 'sleeping with the enemy' here)

you scoffed at satoru's cheesy comment before kissing him again to shut him up. you were ready to venture into the next step of your life with satoru by your side—no good morning kisses and all.

EXTRA:

“we’re gonna have to find a place to live in after graduation.” you said with apprehensive tone. not only did you and satoru have to find an apartment for the two of you, the apartment had to fit megumi, tsumiki, your spirit birds and the demon dogs too.

“it will be fine,” satoru reassured you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

you bit your lip, lost in thought. you wanted to make sure that the apartment you chose would be a safe haven for megumi and tsumiki. it had to be a home filled with love. ever since you and satoru took them in, you made sure that they grew up with everything they needed. whatever they wanted, you and satoru provided with no hesitation.

“you already know that the two pipsqueaks will be happy wherever we end up.” satoru said softly, “they just want to be with us.”

"you mean tsumiki just wants to be with us." you laughed, "megumi does not want to be next to you."

"i'll win him over, just you wait." satoru said confidently.

you knew deep down that megumi actually really admired satoru, but he would never admit that to his sensei's face.

"since we're on the topic of a place to live, we just need to make sure that our room is on the opposite side of the apartment from the kids' room."

you glared at satoru, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. he held his hands up in the air, feigning innocence.

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wooeo · 9 months

Text

☼ BEAUTY QUEEN — enhypen x f!member!reader

youtube compilation (name) my beauty queen, 1.3 million views

note, the 2 girls during clip 2 are ocs dont mind them

clip 1

— “noona,” jungwon called you over to him and niki. he had just confessed to once getting valentines day chocolate from one of his friends.

“hmm?” you pushed your hair over your shoulder, making sure it didn’t get stuck in your clothes.

“noona, have you ever gotten white day chocolate?” niki asked, looking up at you.

the camera panned to you, “yeah,”

they both ooh’ed, teasing you as you smiled awkwardly, “how many times?”

embarrassed, you laughed and turned away from them. they protested loudly, catching the attention of your bandmate and old classmate, jay.

“what? what?”

“hyung! you and noona were classmates right?”

“yeah,”

“have you ever seen her getting white day chocolate?”

jay nodded, “yeah. she once had a whole bag filled,”

you protested, not wanting him to make the information public, “jay! shut up!”

“eh?!” niki’s mouth fell open and jungwon looked at you in shock, “seriously?!”

jay nodded, laughing at your flustered expression, “didn’t you have two full bags in our third year?”

“JAY!”

clip 2

— jay entered first, then sunghoon, then you. you were half hidden behind sunghoon until you stepped out onto the white platform where the boys made space for you between them and you properly came into view of the other contestants.

“wha,,”

you were too far away and too nervous to hear the sounds of awe coming from the others. two of the girls that were already seated, leaned closer to each other, “is that fair? her face?” they giggled, eyes zoomed on you. “don’t let me stand beside her,, seriously. i’ll look like a trashcan,”

you chuckled nervously, “they’re all staring,”

jay leaned closer to you, “aren’t you used to that?”

you rolled your eyes at him and he smiled.

“she’s seriously pretty,”

“very pretty,”

“(name) has a pretty voice,” bang sihyuk put his papers on the desk, “and she’s a strong performer,”

“ah,” rain and zico made noises in acknowledgement. “she looks like a manhwa character,” zico commented, laughing along with the other two when they saw how the contestants kept stealing glances at you.

clip 3

— “(name)!” the radio host turned to you, eyes on the cue card.

you peaked up, ignoring heesung calling you cute.

“there is a rumor going around,” the host's eyes went to you.

your nose scrunched up, already knowing what was to come.

“that when you were in school,, your desk was so filled with letters and gifts that it broke,”

your band members snickered while your face flushed in embarrassment. you shook your head and waved your hands around, “‘t’s not true, it’s- ah,,” you hid your face in your hands, “over exaggeration,” you managed through the embarrassment. the boys burst out laughing, clapping and hollering.

jake, who was sitting next to you, ran his hand up and down your back in comfort through his laughter.

“it’s true! it’s true!” jay laughed even harder when you protested his words. when everybody calmed their laughter (except niki, who found your embarrassment the best entertainment), you repeated your denial.

“it’s not true. but,,” you hesitated and the boys and host chuckled again, “there was a lot on the last day before summer vacation,”

jay, your ever so helpful, ex classmate, opened his mouth, “so many it letters they fell of her desk,”

“JAY!!”

#enha girlie being a beauty queen i’m so right #wooeo post #enhypen 8th member #8th member of enhypen #idol!reader #idol!au #enhypen x reader #member!reader #enhypen fic #ig u can request things but like only member reader stuff #enhypen

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jihyoruri · 5 months

Text

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CAUGHT IN BETWEEN kim chaewon & huh yunjin

prev. masterlist . next

🧋★ ͘ ⴰ 10 minutes of chaewon and yunjin agreeing with each other once in a blue moon 978k views

➩ CLIP #1 PLAYING… 📼

“yn unnie I love watching my demon, im so proud o f you.” yn reads before letting out a squeal and turning to chaewon and yunjin, “they don’t like the show.” she points at them accusingly.

both chaewon and yunjin jump up in defence shouting in over each other as yn glares at them.

“we like the show.” yunjin says explaining to the fans but yn looks away dramatically.

“we just don’t think dohee and guwon should be together.” chaewon adds, “and some scenes are unnecessary.” she says a little more quietly to herself that fans couldn’t hear but yunjin could and nodded rapidly in agreement.”

“attack them.” yn demands the comments, the fans immediately listen to the girl, attacking the two other members.

➩ CLIP #2 PLAYING… 📼

“pink looks nice on you yn,” the interviewer said to the girl, this whole interview it was like she was only person he could focus every time he was talking to another member he would find a way to drift the conversation back to yn.

“oh, thank you, it always looks good on me.” yn smiles, “I like to think pink is my colour.” she responds as he nods in response telling her that it very much is.

chaewon looked at yunjin who looked back at her with the same expression on her face,as he continued the conversation with yn like the other girls weren’t there

“I finally watched the glory, you playing young yeonjin really freaked me out, you were so good.” he says as yn smiles at the compliment, “you should definitely give me acting lessons, im think im gonna get into acting.”

“oh then you probably need it.” yn responds and he lets out a laugh like she said the most funniest in the world.

the camera pans to yunjin and chaewon who both have faces scrunched up at the man.

➩ CLIP #3 PLAYING… 📼

“red isn’t my colour.” yn mumbles to herself in disgust adjusting her pink sunglasses, but everyone could pick up on it as the girls stood in grass under the summer heat.

“every colour is your colour.” yunjin responds putting her arm around the restless girl as the host announces the next game, chaewon side eyes them clearing her throat.

“it’s hot in both ways, im sticky, im in this ugly red, i don’t like running-” the girls rant gets cut off when her name is shouted asking her to come in the middle.

yn turns to chaewon with pout but the leader just laughs as taps the girls cheek as yn groans and walks into the middle coming face to face with yeonjun.

“you two will be doing a staring contest.” the host starts, “so yn you’re gonna have to take off those nice looking sunglasses.”

“staring is a sport?” the girl asks sassily as people laugh at her obvious dislike for this hybe caterers thing it was amusing to all of the groups.

“in this it is.”

yn groans and turns to look at members who laugh at the girls distress especially eunchae and sakura.

she brings the glasses to rest on the top of her head and stands closer to the txt member fixing her gaze on him.

he steps closer to her as well, a little too close for two certain girls comfort.

“im not liking this.” yunjin whispers to the leader who nods in agreement.

“are staring contests supposed to this close?” chaewon says out loud causing people to laugh be she was being dead serious.

★my new years gift‼️

#cib!yn #lesserafim x reader #chaewon x reader #yunjin x reader #kim chaewon x reader #huh yunjin x reader #chaewon #yunjin #kim chaewon #huh yunjin #lesserafim fluff #girl group imagines

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loko4koko · 4 months

Text

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Gojo Satoru x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

100 FOLLOWER MILESTONE CELEBRATION ✰

>fanart_credit: _3aem (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 7293

>contents: slight crack (it’s a gojo fic what do u expect), established relationship, fake engagements, excessive use of “fiancé/fiancée”, satoru is DOWN BAD like ultra simp 3000 levels, kiiinda rich boy!gojo but like barely, gojo calls you “angel” and baby” a lot, cunnilingus, kinda feral!gojo too, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), multiple positions, explicit p in v, rough(ish) sex, creampie, gojo being a lil slut for you, itty bitty dacryphilia (if you squint mad hard)

there’s a standoff happening in your kitchen. a staring contest of sorts. the tension in the air is palpable, so thick you could taste it if you stuck out your tongue. your opponent is a worthy contender, giving just as good as it gets. your nose twitches with the intensity of it, eyes narrowed as you keep your gaze firm, focused.

your adversary in this battle? a red, velvet ring box.

god, it’s like it’s taunting you with it’s delicate heart shape. smug little box, just sitting on the dining table unopened. you’re not sure how long you’ve been caught in the orbit of this suspicious item, but it must’ve been quite a while, according to your boyfriend.

“babeee, i’ve been calling you! what’re you doing?” satoru appears from the direction of your bedroom, frown on his face from his belief that you’re purposely ignoring him. he slips behind you, arms around your torso as he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

“oh,” he laughs as he fixes his eyes on what has you so engrossed, “it’s not what you think.”

this is what gets your attention, turning your head so your gaze is no longer on the little box, but on satoru instead. “what, you proposing to your other girlfriend or something?” you pout. he laughs again, annoyingly louder this time.

“baby, i’m not proposing to anybody yet. and you know i don’t have another girlfriend. it took me 3 years to get you to say yes to one date, you think i’m pulling that off again? thanks for putting faith into my game, though.” you can’t help but to roll your eyes in jest, turning in the man’s arms to wrap yourself around him.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. so…what is it then?”

“it’s a ring.”

“i thought you said you weren’t proposing…”

“okay well, technically, i am. but listen! i saw online some guy and his girlfriend went to different restaurants with a fake ring and when he ‘proposed’ to her, they gave them free food and desserts! so. we’re doing that.”

you pull yourself from satoru’s grasp, staring up at him blankly. he gives you a goofy smile in return, bringing a hand up to boop your nose when you remain silent.

“satoru….really? doing this just so you can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream? i’m definitely deleting tiktok from your phone, damn app gives you way too many ideas.” and there he goes frowning again, pretty pink lips downturned so dramatically.

“baby, no…i’m doing this so that WE can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream. what kind of selfish, evil man do you take me for? … and you’re not deleting my tiktok! how else am i going to send nanami videos he claims to not watch but always knows about when i ask him?”

a sigh leaves you as you shake your head, truly experiencing defeat. you, and everyone else that had ever met him for that matter, knew that there was no changing satoru’s mind when the words “free” and “dessert” were involved. he’d eat himself into a goddamn diabetic coma if you let him get away with it.

satoru enacts his master plan the next night, surprising you with a stunning new dress and a note that says to “look super sexy and marriageable (where the hell had he even learned that word?) as usual” left on your bed. you try your best to comply with his wishes, getting your makeup and hair as perfect as you can before slipping the very revealing dress on. you realize something rather odd while you doll yourself up; satoru hasn’t come home to get himself ready. it was almost 6pm, the time designated by him in his little note, and you were practically ready aside from some jewelry and shoes. you couldn’t imagine that he would make you wait while he showered and dressed, so you were a little bit confused, but you decide to brush it off while you pick between solid gold hoops and diamond-encrusted dangles, both courtesy of the man in question.

when 6:04pm rolls around, and your fancy yves saint laurent heels are wrapped around your feet, the front door opens. you look up from your seat at the kitchen island with a wine glass in hand, and, in the most cliché way possible, your breath is stolen right out of your lungs. satoru was always stupidly beautiful, just so gorgeous that it made you sick, but now? he looked even more alluring than usual. those inhumanly blue eyes were hidden behind his typical shades, masterfully tailored suit adorning his lanky form like it was painted on. his deep red button up, the same color as your cocktail dress, was unbuttoned for the first three (because he was a slut.) and to top it all off, he was wearing that same award winning smile that he’d dazzled you with so many years ago. if he wasn’t so set on his goddamn desserts, you’d bend over and spread your thighs for him right there on the counter.

“holy fuck,” is the first thing he says to you, grip on a bouquet of what looks like dark red carnations and burgundy roses tightening as he takes you in. he takes off his glasses as he draws in closer, pure reverence in his eyes the whole time. “angel, you look…you look fucking edible. my god. what a woman.” you’re not new to satoru’s comments and compliments, far from it, but tonight, they were hitting a little different, for lack of a better term. maybe it was the look in his eyes, some kind of compound of love and burning desire, but something else, too. something almost…determined, but you don’t know what he’d be determined to do other than put on a good show.

“so, eat me then,” you tease, though the heat in your cheeks and your eyes not meeting his gives away how flustered he’s got you. he’s still looking you over, scrutinizing every pretty inch of you with an overwhelming intensity before his steely gaze levels to yours.

“mm, tempting, but it’ll have to wait; we have to go get engaged first. these,” he holds the flowers out to you, “are yours, my arrestingly beautiful queen.” you can’t help but to laugh at his ultra-corny pet names, but they warm your heart nonetheless, rising from your stool to find a vase to fill with water.

“where were you, anyway? you show up all dressed to the nines on me out of nowhere. what, did you get ready in the car or something?” you ask, back to the white-haired man while you dig around in a cabinet.

“suguru helped me out, kept my suit and let me shower at his place..” he says, almost distantly. you can’t see it, but satoru is watching you, worshipping you with his eyes as you flit around the kitchen in your heels and your dress and your oh so seductive aura. he’s never seen anything or anyone be more mesmerizing in his life, and he knows he never will.

arriving at the first restaurant of the three satoru had planned has your nerves alighting. what if they knew you were faking it? god, how disgraceful that would be—caught in your goober of a boyfriend’s silly scheme would have you too embarrassed to show your face in public for at least two months. but then he smiles at you from the driver seat- a genuine one that eases your anxieties and soothes your concerns, one so brilliant that it instills you with the necessary confidence to go commit…whatever form of fraud this whole thing is. you give him one in return, reaching out to cup his cheek before you’re leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. you can feel him smile even wider when you do.

“so, how much do you want me to sell this? ‘cause, if i cry now, it might not be so believable at the next place.” satoru’s pushing in your chair when you speak, smoothing his hands down your shoulders before giving you a squeeze. he takes his own seat, flipping the menu open to browse through the beverage list.

“best as you can with no tears. gotta save those for the last one,” he tilts his glasses down to send you a wink, and, for the millionth time within your relationship, you’re light-heartedly rolling your eyes at him. “you got it, baby. but! if you don’t share whatever disgustingly sweet, sugar-stuffed, chocolate-drizzled, candy-coated bullshit you ask for, it’s gonna be your pretty little ass.” he laughs at your threat and throws his hands up in resignation. you might be smiling when you say it, but you surely aren’t joking, and he knows it.

you both decide to keep dinner small and light, knowing you’re going to gorge yourselves on whatever insulin-raising dishes your dear boyfriend chooses to indulge in. it’s not long after you put your fork down when he gives you ‘the look.’ you have to use all of your willpower not to smile, woosah-ing yourself into the role of an unsuspecting girlfriend about to be proposed to. you paint a look of surprise on your face when he gets down on one knee, giving you a charming little speech about how he’d “wanted to do this for so, so long” and how he “could never love another the way he loves you, never want to. so please baby, will you marry me?” it’s actually rather romantic, makes you wonder how close it all is to his true feelings for you.

you and satoru hardly ever explicitly talked about marriage, but he did always talk about how he wanted to be with you forever (or rather, that he’d jump off a bridge if you ever broke up with him, but that wasn’t as eloquent.) he’d mention plans of a big house he wanted to put you in, so he could come home to you and your warm embrace every day until he was old and wrinkly beside you. so, maybe not an outright “hey, we’re getting married some day,” but it was most definitely implied.

at the end of satoru’s little scripted scene, he pulls out that same heart-shaped ring box from the table, opening it up to showcase a square cut diamond, one you’re sure must be a piece of costume jewelry for the occasion. you gasp, climbing out of your seat to throw your arms around him with a “yes! yes, i’ll marry you!” he picks you up, standing back up to his full height as he delicately sways you back and forth. you share a kiss, one you let a few secret giggles into, before you part, allowing your boyfriend the pleasure of sliding the ring onto your finger. the patrons of the restaurant that’d been watching the spectacle all clap at what they believe to be a genuine display of affection, including your waiter from his station near the kitchen. it’s a lot of attention, but being with someone that looks like (and acts like, and is) satoru means you’re relatively used to stares and whispers. he gives you one more sloppy smooch before he’s helping you back into your seat, giving a bow of thanks to the other customers before he’s sitting, too.

when the waiter comes back to offer up your grand prize, with eyes dampened from your well-acted performance, satoru keeps it simple and orders a non-nauseating plate of assorted mochi ice cream. and when it comes to the table, he plucks one of the cold, sweet little treats in between his long fingertips and reaches his equally lengthy arm across the table to feed it to you with not a lick of selfishness. fuck the dessert, he’d share the entire moon with you if it was in his possession.

“babe, we fucking killed that. that lady? in the black blouse? she was crying, like, actually crying! i almost feel bad, but that mochi was to die for, so i’d say it was a worthy crime.” you jabber excitedly on your walk back to the car, hand in hand with your stage fiancé. he’s staring down at you as you prattle on, knows he should be watching where he’s going but fuck, you’re so stunning and you go along with his admittedly very childish desires for free sweets and yeah, he really is so whipped, it’s not even funny. he’d never deny it, either—the man who carries multiple pictures of you in his wallet and as his phone background, the man who gives you massages and shares from his candy stash when you’re on your period, the one who can’t get mad at you when you fall asleep on him during a movie he really wanted to see? there’d be an ice-cold day in hell before that man—the only gojo satoru—ever denies being hopelessly, foolishly, irrevocably in love with you.

the second restaurant that you and satoru pull your scheme on is a tad bit more upscale than the first—not to say the first eatery wasn’t upscale, would never be the case with your luxury loving boyfriend—and you absorb your surroundings from your place on the man’s arm while he checks your reservation in with the maître d. for this place, as fancy as it is, you think you’ll tone down the theatrics, keep it a little classier this time around. you don’t want to embarrass yourself or satoru with some overly acted performance that screamed fake. the suited man behind the counter leads you to a table, not smack-dab in the middle of the dining area but not very secluded either, something perfect for the exhibition you were going to put on.

“you know, you’re setting me up for some very high expectations, ‘toru,” you speak from behind your wine glass, eyes on what would be his if it weren’t for the glasses he still wears. he looks up from his menu, head tilted inquisitively.

“is that so?”

“mhm. that ring you got looks nice, but you’ve spoiled me. i’m gonna need one way bigger now. and,” you pause, taking another swig from your glass, “you’ll have to really surprise me. i mean, this restaurant is really nice, but if you keep this up, we’re gonna run out of fancy restaurants for you to actually propose to me in. there’re only so many, y’know.” your tone is coated in sarcasm, but satoru doesn’t laugh. instead, he smirks, closing his menu and placing it to the side.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about that, sweet girl. you’ll be very surprised when it happens.”

the meal is delicious, as expected, and your plates are cleared soon after. satoru’s laughing at a story you have about your neighbor’s adorable little kitty cat that keeps trying to sneak into your apartment while he pours you another glass of an unnecessarily expensive wine he insisted on.

“are you ready?” he asks when you finish, and you give him a short nod, quick to prepare yourself again for the false astonishment you have to give and the onslaught of eyes that were soon to be on the two of you.

he reaches across the table to take your left hand in his, eyes peering up at you over his glasses when he leans down to press his lips against your ring finger.

“i love you,” he murmurs before he’s up and out of his seat. he approaches your side of the table but he doesn’t do his part of getting down on one knee yet, opting instead to cup your cheek with a hold so gentle you’d assume he thought you were made of glass.

“i mean it, i really do love you more than anything in this world.” you don’t have time to respond to the declaration before he’s descending to his knee, taking your hand yet again as he gives you another speech. this one is different than the last, but just as full of genuine love.

“you make my days worth living, baby. you make the sun look like a streetlight in comparison to how much you light up my life. you’re so funny, so smart, so generous, and you put up with the…less than favorable parts of my personality with very minimal complaints.” he says that last part with a little bit of disdain and it has you giggling in a way no one else can bring out of you, despite your slightly glossy eyes. “my perfect girl, will you marry me?”

and there it is, the ring box you’d been waiting to see since you stepped into this establishment full of onlookers. he opens the box and slides the ring onto your finger before he even gets your verbal answer, but it doesn’t matter because you’re nodding and smiling like a damn idiot, as if it’s real. you try not to dwell on that thought for long.

“of course i’ll marry you, satoru.” he carefully pulls you up out of your chair and cups your face again, this time with both hands, lips against yours in a kiss much more serious than the last time you did this. there’s more applause following suit, but you can’t pay attention to anyone but satoru, who’s kissing you so deeply that the restaurant could be burning to a crisp and you would be none the wiser. when you part, he’s grinning, a little bit from the wine buzz and a lot from the adrenaline of proposing to his gorgeous girlfriend, staged as it was.

your waitress is quick to congratulate you both, and when she mentions the one thing that satoru came here for—that goddamned free dessert—he lets you choose. but you’re so generous, his sweet little sweetheart, just like he said in his speech, and you pick something sugar-stuffed, and chocolate drizzled, and so fucking satoru that it makes your teeth ache. you’re always, always, thinking about him, and he loves you all the more for it.

when you get to the last restaurant/soon-to-be victim of theft of services, you’re feeling very practiced in the art of deception. the tears you were able to evoke out of the unknowing guests, and the ones satoru almost pulled out of you had you unwaveringly confident in both your own and satoru’s level of skill as thespians this time around.

this place is a far cry from the previous two and you can tell before you even step foot inside, the architectural marvel of a building radiating the energy of one of those “sorry, we’re booked 3 years in advance” kind of places. you have no doubt that satoru could get in anywhere if he wanted to, though- the man was quick to offer bribes well into the range of some people’s entire salaries. if he wanted something, he was unrelenting, tenacious even—traits you admired greatly about him.

the moment you step inside, you start to feel a little swell of anxiety. this was..intense. the lighting was much more moody, with floor to ceiling windows giving the diners a view of a beautiful garden, lush with greenery. you and satoru had dined well before, but this was something entirely different. he leads you to the reception desk where another maître d, not dissimilar to the one before, greets you with an air of extreme professionalism. satoru gives the man his name, and you’re left a little confused when his eyes widen in what you think is surprise. he gives your boyfriend a quick nod before he dashes off, and you try not to focus too much on how expensive this place must be or why satoru would come here of all places for a free dessert, but it’s hard not to. the wall behind the reception desk is practically covered in plaques of awards, the words “michelin star” and “winner of..” plastered on most of them. you know those aren’t easily earned, so you try to think less about the exorbitant cost you know your boyfriend is paying, instead doing your best to enjoy this probably once-in-a-lifetime dining experience.

the man from before returns, with another more sharply dressed man, who grins wide when he sees satoru and yourself. he shakes your man’s hand firmly, giving a nod of his head in the direction of the dining area. the restaurant is gorgeous, past that really, but a little under-populated for satoru’s plan to have it’s most effectiveness. besides, what’s the point of a fake proposal if no one is gonna see it?

you mention your previous thoughts to satoru once you’re seated, but he just gives you a smile and says “don’t worry about anything other than enjoying yourself.”

so you don’t. you reminisce on funny, and sometimes embarrassing stories about your past with satoru—sharing laughter, and food you can’t fucking pronounce, and glasses of ridiculously high-priced alcohol.

“you’re the most wonderful woman in the world, angel,” he muses some time down the line, “thank you. i don’t fucking deserve you.” his words have you putting your glass down, reaching across the table to mirror his earlier actions by taking his hand, with your face set into a frown.

“i don’t like it when you say things like that, satoru. you do deserve me..because i say you do. you’re not- you’re not hard to love, satoru; it’s actually very, very easy. and i love loving you, and i’m gonna keep doing it every fucking day that you’ll have me. okay? so none of that,” you say, squeezing his much larger hand in your own.

“what if i wanted to have you forever?” he asks, eyes still hidden behind those increasingly unnecessary glasses. the restaurant is far more dimly lit than the first two, but the urge to complain comes only from how much you miss looking into those dazzling blue pools.

“well, i’d give you forever and then some. you’re not getting rid of me, ‘toru,” you grin, taking the stem of your glass between the fingers of your free hand and lifting it to your lips. satoru follows the movement behind his shades, watches how the delicate line of your throat bobs with your swallowing with a sort of reverie that is usually described in religious texts. he’d pray for you, pray to you, anything. he’d learn how to sculpt just so your beauty could be immortalized for all of eternity.

satoru says your name and you hum, quick to swallow down the rest of your sake before giving him a sweet smile with your eyebrows raised.

“i hope you meant what you said—about forever.” you’re about to ask him what his foreboding words mean but you’re interrupted by none other than satoru himself, rising from his seat for the third and final time this evening to bring himself down to one knee. you’re about to laugh and quietly chide him for not giving you time to prepare for the show when you hear the sound of a piano, looking over your shoulder to see a man sitting at the once unmanned instrument. you turn further still and see that all of the staff has crowded around the edges of the room, all holding intricately crafted bouquets of..dark red carnations and burgundy roses, much like the one he’d given you, both granting you space but still wanting to watch the grand gesture that your boyfriend prepared.

“satoru, what’s….did you call ahead or something? this is…kind of a lot for a dessert i could make you at home..” he smiles and shakes his head at your endearing ignorance to the situation, reaching up to pull his glasses off for the first time all night. those eyes that you missed so much, they were rimmed with a faint redness. you couldn’t help but act on your instincts, reaching out to cup his face in your careful—caring—hands. you don’t get the chance to ask him what has him tearing up so much before he starts, a speech entirely new leaving his lips.

“if you think that loving me is easy, then loving you is child’s play. loving you is…one of the greatest gifts that i have ever or could ever be granted. you don’t always see it, and i like it that way, but sometimes—a lot of times—i look at you like you created the heavens and the earth. you are the heavens and the earth to me. you’re everything to me. your laugh alone could cure me of any ails. i don’t know what i did to make such a beautiful, loving, gentle, smart, hilarious, talented woman fall in love with my stupid ass, but fuck, baby, i thank the universe every day for you. you give me purpose. you give me strength. you give me the want to continue, when it feels like there’s no fight left in me.”

your eyes shimmer with unshed tears, lips parted in genuine shock that you hadn’t expected to feel tonight. you spare another glance at the staff before bringing your gaze back to satoru, voice caught in your throat and tongue heavy in your mouth.

“satoru, if- if you’re playing with me..if you’re doing this for your damn dessert, i-“

“no, baby, this- this is real. you are…the most exceptional person i know. you love me in a way that i didn’t know was possible before you came into my life. i’m so goddamn unworthy of you, but you chose me, and i swear, that for the rest of my life—the rest of our life—i’ll never let you down. please, angel. please make me the most blessed man on the planet and marry me?”

satoru reaches into the pocket of his suit pants as you stare in amazement, mascara tears fully running down your cheeks now. the ring box in his grasp is much different than the one from your faux-engagements—it’s black, shaped like an oval with silver ornamental designs around the perimeter. and when he opens it, your lip begins to quiver.

the ring is something so uniquely satoru, a thin silver band that splits into multiple vine-like channels, with little diamonds attached for the appearance of flowers. they meet at the top where the stone resides, and fuck, it’s big. it’s aquamarine, with several little prongs holding it’s marquise shape in place. it must’ve cost a fortune, and you can’t help but marvel at it as satoru takes your hand in his own again, lips against your ring finger one last time before he’s slipping the delicate piece of jewelry onto your finger.

“i need you to say it, angel. say you’ll marry me,” he pleads, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. you can’t hold back the sob that leaves you, nodding vigorously as you caress his face.

“yes, ‘toru, i’ll marry you.” you say through the tears, pressing your salt-covered lips to his. there’s applause behind you, just like the other “engagements,” but this time, you don’t need them there. you’d have said yes to him if it was 3 in the morning and you were half asleep, you’d have said it in the car on the way to the grocery store. you’d say yes to him anywhere, at any time.

true to satoru’s word, he doesn’t bother with the free dessert this time around. he’s too busy thinking about going home and getting a taste of his fiancée to bother with some fancy piece of cake. and he almost doesn’t make it home, pressing you up against the car with his right hand on the side of your face and the other on your waist. he kisses you so voraciously, like if he tried just that much harder, he could swallow you whole.

“satoru, stop!” you giggle against his ravenous mouth, “a public indecency charge wouldn’t be a great start to our engagement, you think?”

“i can’t help it. my fiancée just looks so good, i don’t think anybody’d blame me if i hiked your dress up right here,” he says, leaning his head down onto your shoulder to leave a kiss or two on the bare skin. you gently push him away, coy look in your eyes when you meet his own.

“at home, the dress comes all the way off.”

satoru has you both in the car with the keys in the ignition and the gearshift in ‘drive’ within 14 seconds.

the front door to your apartment is solid wood, and it’s cold against your back where satoru has, yet again, found a surface to press you up against. you barely made it three steps inside before he was on you, groping and squeezing anything his reach would allow. his lips are sweet where they meet yours, kinda like how they always are, from all the desserts and wines he’d indulged himself in. and somewhere in there, a taste that’s wholly satoru resides. it’s your favorite flavor. his tongue never asks permission to enter your mouth—it just does, licking up every bit of you that’s on offer, and it never satisfies his appetite.

“what was that you said earlier, baby? you want me to eat you, right?” he says between his desperate kisses and fuck, when did everything get so hot all of a sudden? the hand you have on his shoulder slinks up, coming to find its place in the short hairs of his undercut, and when you scrape your nails against his scalp he sighs into your mouth.

“you’re not too full from your desserts?” you tease breathily but it cuts into a gasp of surprise when he yanks your dress up and shoves his hand under the bunched fabric to rip your panties off, only to find your bare skin at his fingertips.

“oh, fuck- no panties, baby? y’want me ta eat that pretty pussy this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, snatching your lips up in a quick, biting kiss that leaves you dizzy. he drops to his knees—funny how much he’s done that today—and lifts your dress further, gathering the material up at your waist. the way satoru marvels at your pussy is something he’d always done but fuck, can you blame him? you get so wet and you taste like the world’s rarest delicacy on his tongue and you’re so fucking warm and tight when he digs you out—he’d sing hymns about your pussy from the top of a mountain.

“my pretty fiancée givin’ me such easy access…such a sweet girl you are,” he praises with a kiss to your mound, “so fucking good t’me.” but he’s just as good to you—especially now, as he spreads your thighs and hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, unhesitatingly dipping his tongue in between your soaking wet folds. the contact of the slippery muscle on your sensitive flesh has you mewling, eyes slipping shut as he feasts on you. his mouth is as slick as it is when he’s talking, stroking his tongue up and down from your clit to your hole, and back again.

“fffuck- satoru..” you whimper, subconsciously grinding your hips into his face. he doesn’t mind, though- actually he encourages it; he loves it when you use him for your pleasure, makes him feel good to make you feel good. and that rings especially true now, as he stiffens his tongue and slides it into your aching hole that’s been clenching around nothing this entire time. he fucks you with it, much like he does with his cock- giving you a mix of slow and fast thrusts and keeping you on your toes. his large hands smooth up your thighs before one sneaks away to aid in him pulling you apart. his thumb finds your clit, massaging the little button in circles and you almost lose your balance, your hand flying out to grip onto his snow-like hair. your little mewls act as encouragement for the man between your legs; he’s studied you—your body—for years, and how each little flick and roll and curl of his tongue or fingers brings you closer and closer to cumming all over him. and he uses that knowledge so freely, long tongue prodding and pressing further and further into you, tip of the muscle kissing your g-spot.

satoru knows you, knows that when your thighs shake and your breathing turns to panting, he’s got you right where he wants you. you confirm that for him, when you look down at him to see those sparkling blue eyes staring back up at you and you moan “god, fuck- ‘toru, please baby, don’t stop, gonna cum f’you.” he’s ever so obedient, thumb moving in faster circles around your clit and his unrelenting tongue fucking into you just as quick. he keeps his gaze glued to your face because you look so goddamn pretty when you cum that he can’t bear to miss it. and he doesn’t, watching lustfully as your head sinks back against the door, hips stuttering as he licks the orgasm right out of you.

“out of all the meals i’ve had tonight,” satoru starts, lips shiny with your release when you open your eyes again, “you’re the most delicious.” you’d laugh at how corny he is, but your mind still hasn’t come fully back to you yet. satoru rises back to his normal stature of towering over you, even in your heels, and he can’t help but to dip his head down and kiss you. all those same flavors from before are muted behind the taste of you, and you almost hate to admit it, but you like that a lot.

“i need to be inside of you, baby,” satoru sighs into the kiss, leaning down to wrap his big hands around your outer thighs, and you get the idea quickly, letting him pick you up so you can wrap your legs around his hips. he carries you off to the bedroom, laying you down on the plush comforter that covers your bed. you sit back on your elbows and toe your heels off, eyes following his movements as he takes off his blazer.

“god, you look-“

“fuckable?”

“very.”

“so, what are you waiting for? fuck me, fiancé.”

he takes your invitation with fire in his eyes, moving in close to undo whatever horrid contraptions are keeping you clothed. when he gets the zipper down, he’s practically ripping you out of the dress, tossing the expensive garment off somewhere behind him. he’s pulling his own clothes off just as quickly, and when he gets his pants down you can’t help but to feel him through his black boxer briefs. he’s so hard, and he’s leaking like a goddamn faucet, the wet spot you feel near his tip growing larger and larger. he’s groaning against your neck as you touch him, pushing his hips into your palm desperately. but then he decides that he can’t take the teasing and the waiting anymore, so he’s sitting up on his haunches to shove his boxers down his thighs. he doesn’t even get them fully off before he’s grabbing your calf and dragging you towards him, gripping the base of his painfully stiff cock to line it up with your sopping pussy hole.

“ohmy-GOD, fuck- ah! satoru, slow downnnn!!” you gasp, crying out for him as he slams into you with no warning and sets a pace that could rival a jackrabbit.

“s-sorry, baby, jus’ need you- need you so fucking bad, shit- hnnng, fuuuck,” he moans, gripping your hips tight as he keeps hammering into you. you can’t keep your eyes open as much as you’d like to—satoru always looks so angelic when he’s flushed and panting from the vice-like grip your pussy has on him—but it’s okay, because he moans like a bitch in heat when he’s fucking you and that’s all you need. your nails are digging into whatever they can find, one hand twisted up in the blanket and the other pressed against satoru’s flexing abs as if you’re trying to stop him, but you both know that’s not true.

“so. fucking. wet.” he groans, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. he’s so deep inside that you know you’d feel him if you touched your belly, and the thought has tears of pleasure spilling down to your temples and into your hair.

“y-you feel so fucking good- ah- mmm- look so p-pretty taking my cock like this,” he whines, one hand leaving your hip to find your throat. he doesn’t add pressure, doesn’t squeeze, just lets his hand rest there like he needed to ground himself. he finds himself angling his hips just a little differently, and only a moment later, he knows he’s got it when your teary eyes shoot open and you scream his name.

“right there, angel? my fiancée likes it t-there?” he teases, trying his hardest to keep some composure but fuck, it’s so hard when you clench that tight cunt of yours and suck him deeper and deeper.

“yeeessss,” you sob, “please! feels..so good…love you so much, love the way you fuck me..” satoru moans with you, snaking a hand under your lower back to arch you a little more, and the slight change of position has him hitting your g-spot head on with his merciless thrusts. you cum, wordlessly and unexpectedly, and satoru’s eyes widen as he looks down to see the ring of your cream that covers the base of his cock.

“ohhhh f-fuck yeah, angel, cream all over my dick, ‘s all yours, always- always yours,” he gasps.

he brings you fully into his lap and your arms instinctively curl around his neck, your head falling back as he bounces you on his cock that’s impaling you. you’re both covered in sweat now, and your slick, too—it leaks down around satoru’s dick and onto your thighs. the eye contact he makes with you in this moment is hard to look away from, so you don’t—eyes locked with his while you pant and moan and whimper his name. he does the same right back to you, choking out declarations of his love interspersed with your own name.

soon, the position changes again, when you use the little strength you have left to push satoru onto his back with your hands splayed out on his chest. he groans in surprise, sliding his hands up your hips to hold onto your waist. your gaze shifts between his blissed-out face and the sparkling stone that rests on your finger, grinding against him nice and slow.

“does this feel good, satoru?” you don’t mean for the question to come out as seductive as your tone does, but it has his hips bucking up into you nonetheless. his eyes open to find yours and he nods, digging his fingers into your flesh more when you ride him harder, roll your hips a little faster.

“f-fuck, feels like heaven, baby..keep- mmf, keep fucking me like t-that,” he answers, and you’re his sweet girl, his giving little angel, so you do. you keep fucking him just like that, pulling yourself up and dropping back down on the lengthy cock inside of you. your ass smacks against his thighs on the landing, and it joins your ragged breathing and satoru’s huffs as the only sounds in the room. he can’t help but to meet your hips with his own thrusts, not keen on taking the reigns back but adding to the insurmountable pleasure you both feel.

“will you cum with me? please, ‘toru- need to feel you..” god, how could he ever deny you when you ask so sweetly, one hand still on his chest and the other on yours, palming at your tit with a pinch of your pert nipple every now and then. his brow is furrowed—plush lips parted with his moans and he’s nodding in response again.

“yeah, baby, yeah- ‘m so fucking- hah- c-close.” a look of focus forms in his eyes when one of his hands slips down from your waist, nimble fingers toying with your sensitive clit. your moans rise in pitch and volume, heart pounding in your chest as you get closer and closer to the edge. you can practically feel him pulsing inside of you, know he’s almost there too, and you ride with more determination, tits bouncing with the effort. he looks so desperate from his position beneath you, desperate to cum, desperate to fill you to the brim with his hot load. you’re left gasping, shouts of his name torn right from your throat when he plants his feet into the mattress and starts to thrust up into you, fingers still pinching and pulling at your engorged nub. he fucks into you so roughly, eyes shifting between the spot where you conjoin, watching raptly as his cock slides in and out of your hole, and your sweet face, mouth hung open and tear streaks on your cheeks. both are a pretty sight to him.

“‘m gonna cum, ‘toru- cum for me, too, need it inside me so fucking bad,” you whimper, and you weren’t lying. only a few more thrusts and some circles rubbed onto your clit and you’re crying his name, creaming all over his cock again. and satoru can’t hold off anymore, doesn’t want to, and the way you clench and squeeze him makes that an impossible feat anyway. he stills his hips the best he can but they still stutter with the intensity of his orgasm, letting out rope after rope after rope of his sticky fluid inside of your needy little hole.

you roll off of him when you get the strength to do it, still panting with the exertion. but satoru is clingy, even more so after sex; so with your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but rather feel the man’s hands tugging you close. he drapes his sweat-sticky body around yours, nuzzling his face into your neck where he leaves a few cheeky kisses.

“thank you.” it’s silent for a while before he speaks, and the words have you cracking your eyes open to look at him. he’s already beaten you to the punch, wide blue eyes looking up at you.

“for what?” you respond, bringing your hand up to smooth his hair down. he practically purrs at the sensation, but he answers you regardless.

“for saying yes to me, to forever.”

the snort that comes out of you is unintentional, but you can’t help it. he sounds silly thanking you for that, so you tell him as much.

“satoru, you make it sound like you had to bribe me into being with you when you say things like that. y’know, i meant what i said, about you being stuck with me. couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, baby. this just makes it..more official.”

“guess that’s true, huh?”

“you’re damn right. and when we get married, i’m going to use my new powers for evil.”

“what??”

“oh, yeah. i’m gonna terrorize everyone. pranks galore. and i’ll tell them gojo did it. and they’ll just assume it was mr. gojo, not the kind and sweet mrs. gojo.”

satoru’s jaw drops, sitting up to gape at you. you just shrug in response, smiling innocently at your soon to be husband. he shakes his head, deep in thought for a moment before he grins, eyes hard set on you.

“what?” you ask, playfully narrowing your own eyes.

“i think i want to marry you tomorrow.”

>authors_note: WELL. it’s finally here (took me long enough i knowwwww🤫) ENDLESS THANKS FOR 100 (we’re almost at 200 now but let’s cross that bridge when we get there heheh)

>next up: firefighter!satosugu (after like 3 months of me talking about it IM SORRYYY)

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader

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sofiareidings · 5 months

Text

Is That A Hickey Or A Bruise?

Summary: You show up to work with a hickey on your neck and it raises a few questions from your coworkers.

A/N: Soooo...I've been gone for a while. I've had such bad writers block for like two months. It's still really bad, so idk how active I will be. Even though I couldn't bring myself to write coming online and seeing all of your likes and resposts always bring a smile to face. So thank you and I hope you enjoy this little blurb! <3

Word Count: 400~

Song Suggestions: Dress - Taylor Swift

A quick check in the car mirror and a deep breath were all you could do before walking inside. Sitting down at your desk and immediately diving into any type of paperwork, you raised a few people's curiosity.

“How was your night?” Emily turned in chair, ready to try and figure out the need to be so quiet today. Which was unusual for you. “Did you not sleep well?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just uh…couldn't fall asleep.” You nodded and then looked back down at your paperwork.

“What's up with the turtleneck? Never seen you wear something like that.” JJ stated while standing at the corner of your desk, exchanging a quick look with Emily.

“What? Not allowed to wear something different?” You tried to shrug it off, when you heard some footsteps behind you. Turning to see Spencer walking to his desk, quickly looking away as your face turned red.

“Hmm…you know that's the oldest trick in the book right?” Emily crossed her arms and gave you a look from her desk, probably already having figured it out.

“What's the oldest trick in the book?” You asked Emily, giving her the same look. A staring contest that luckily JJ broke.

“This, sweetie.” She reached over and tugged at the collar of your top. Your immediate reaction was to shoo her away, but she saw it. The purple-ish mark on your neck. “Wow, bigger than I expected.”

“Shut up, shut up. Don't talk about it.” You panicked and grabbed her hand. Pleading. This caught the attention of the other people in the office. Mainly Derek and Spencer.

“Well I think you are about to be interrogated by that one.” JJ said while holding back a laugh and nodding to Derek who was now trying to assess the situation.

“What aren't we talking about?” He said from his desk, most likely trying to profile the answer out of you, JJ, and Emily. “What's with the turtleneck…oh my God.” He laughed.

“I'm telling Hotch I'm sick and going home.” You said while trying to hide the embarrassment.

Derek stood up while still laughing and walked over to Spencer, reaching a hand out for a fistbump. “Pretty boy. My man.” He said through laughs. Spencer shook his head, not reaching his hand out. “Ouch, that hurts Reid.”

Once people settled down a little bit you stood up and walked over to Spencer's desk. Handing him some files and leaning over to whisper something. “Maybe next time don't be so harsh.”

“Maybe next time, don't be so obvious about the hickey.” He whispered back with a smile. You sighed and shook your head before walking back to your desk. Completely embarrassed.

#sofiareidings #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #bau #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #fandom #spencer reid x gn!reader #fanfic

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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

yours only

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You make Wednesday feel something she never felt before; jealousy. And maybe a bit of something else too.

Requested by anon

A/N: First time writing for her, who stole my heart pretty quickly. I hope this is okay, hope I could somehow capture her personality that's definitely not an easy one. Let me know what you think. Requests for her are open. <3

Masterlist

You felt a little petty, just a little, as you walked amongst the woods to meet Xavier in his secret spot, the one where he stored most of his paintings.

But he's been a good friend of yours ever since before Wednesday came to Nevermore, and if she can spend however long she wants in that coffee shop, why can't you do the same?

You weren't expecting to fall for her, in reality, you couldn't stand her in the beginning. But one doesn't choose one's feelings, and when underneath all that secrecy and nonchalant attitude she does things like; take an extra tray of breakfast for you when you wake up a little late, or help you in class when you forget the particularities of a flower, or even send Thing to your room in the dead of night with a written note for you to meet her the next day for an outing, which was code for sneaking out to investigate, but the gesture is there.

It was safe to say you were a goner. As much as it might be — her words, not yours — a terrible decision.

But lately, Wednesday has been distant. And you were jealous, even if you didn't have the right to be. So over the past week, you've been spending a good amount of time with Xavier. He's been helping you with your drawing skills, the piece you're working on now is almost done, and you're quite proud of it.

The entirety of your day is spent in Xavier's shed, laughing and painting and getting your head off of things. You think you see a dark silhouette spying on you from outside, but when you go looking, it's gone.

It's already late at night when you do go back to your dorm, your roommate is sneaking into her boyfriend's room tonight, so it's just you. You're looking forward to the quiet night.

You open the door to your room with a yawn escaping your lips. Your backpack is thrown somewhere to the side and you don't care much for where it lands, you stretch your muscles, a little sore for being in the same position most of the day. Only then do you take a glance over your room, and in the right corner, sitting by the end of your bed on the floor and mostly covered by the darkness, is Wednesday.

You almost jump out of your skin. With the way your heart is beating under your hand, you swear your soul did leave your body for a second; "holy shit Wednesday, a little warning next time."

Wednesday gets up, taking a single step towards you before deciding against it, her eyes never leave you. "You're distracted today, why?"

"Hello to you too," you grumble, taking off your jacket, "and, how did you even get in here, the door was locked."

There's a ghost of a smirk on her burgundy-painted lips, and it gets you wondering if they'd leave a print on you if you stole a kiss. "You can't expect a simple lock to stop me," Wednesday tells you.

You chuckle, knowing damn well there were few things out there that held any power over her. You just don't know that you happen to be one of them. "no, of course not."

A beat passes where you just look at each other, both waiting on something, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way. The air feels heavy around you, almost electrical.

You clear your throat and walk past Wednesday and to your wardrobe to pick up your pajamas, figuring a shower would do you good.

Wednesday has a staring contest with the back of your head as you rummage for clothes, her jaw is set tightly in place and she hates the feeling that's in her stomach right now. "You didn't answer my question," she says, with more bite than usual.

You huff, running a hand through your hair as you turn to her again. You walk up closer, your personal space mingling with hers.

She sucks in a sharp breath when you stop before her, her gaze darting to your lips before settling back on your eyes. It's so fast that you don't notice it.

"What question?" You ask.

Wednesday gulps, twisting her words into what she really wanted to know; "why are you spending so much time with Xavier?" She deadpans, as if she couldn't care less.

Your lips tilt up on the sides, because you know better, but you won't indulge her just yet. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?"

"This is childish."

"Indeed."

"His father is the sheriff, and I need information on the attacks," Wednesday raises her brow, "my relationship with him is merely convenient."

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding softly, "well, Xavier has been my friend for years already, so…" You shrug and walk around her, heading to the bathroom.

"It doesn't look like it."

"Like what?" You turn and ask impatiently, waiting for her to do the same and look at you again.

Wednesday does so slowly, staring at you through her lashes. "Like you two don't want to be more than friends."

There's something complicated about her tone that you can't quite put your finger in. Her eyebrows are a little crooked, her eyes glinting just a little brighter under the moonlight and her hands painfully closed into fists. You realize she's upset.

You soften. For her, this might just be the equivalent of a crying plea. You walk over to where your backpack lays forgotten on the floor and carefully pull out your sketchbook. The cover is black and a little worn as you run your fingers over it, taking a steadying breath.

You sit down on your bed with it and pat the space beside you.

Wednesday regards you with caution, she's lost and not in control, two things she absolutely hates; however, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable when it's with you. She takes calculated steps to your bed and gently sits down beside you, closer than she thinks she should have, but it's too late to back down now.

"Xavier has been giving me a hand with a few of my drawings," you explain, opening your sketchbook on the last page you used, "and uh- this is the one I'm working on."

Wednesday takes the sketchbook from you, holding it tenderly between her fingers as if it could fall apart. Her heart beats erratically against her ribs, for a moment she thinks she can hear it. The feeling is foreign to her.

The drawing is a perfect picture of her, undoubtedly by your eyes, as she sits beside you in class, focused on her notes. It's a sight you're all too familiar with, one that you love. The lines are a little rough still, all black charcoal and dark ink; tracing the lines of her jaw and hair to perfection. It's pretty, probably not a word Wednesday usually would use to describe herself, but it's true now.

"I couldn't see Xavier as more than a friend," you tell her quietly, so as to not break the bubble of intimacy around you, "I'm afraid that spot is already taken."

Wednesday's gaze snaps up to you, and you think that's the most emotion you've ever seen her let on. You wish you could bottle this moment up like fireflies in a glass jar.

You reach out a hand, and Wednesday holds her breath before you even touch her, you do too. Her hair, deep black and so incredibly soft, meets the pad of your fingertips as you push it behind her ear. The motion is all delicacy and shyness, just a breath over the fragile line between you and her.

Wednesday's lashes kiss her cheeks when her eyes almost drop closed for a millisecond before she takes back control. She's stiff, hands now with a bruising grip on the sketchbook, "what are you doing?"

You inch closer, and when she doesn't pull away, you gently cup her cheek; her skin is a little cold under your touch. "What do you think I'm doing?"

For the first time in her life, her words get caught up in her throat before she forces them out; "Something you'll regret."

Smiling against your own volition, you whisper; "do you really believe that?"

Wednesday wonders if you're aware that you're killing her slowly; agonizingly, because you're so kind with her demise. She's the one who closes the gap between you, when you're just a hairs width away from her, one hand letting go of your sketchbook in order to bunch up your shirt in her fist and pull you to her.

It's everything you're not expecting, her eagerness, urgency even. She's kissing you like she's trying to memorize you, not sure if you're real or not. It's still soft though, still uncertain, still her.

When she parts, it's slowly, her lips almost refusing to let yours go. The outlines of your mouth are faintly smudged with her lipstick, testimonies of her affection, of how lucky you are to have it.

The sight pulls a smile from Wednesday, and consequently from you as well once you see it. Because albeit small, her smile is real, and you think you already have your next project for the sketchbook.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months

Text

Chapter 8 - May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor

Guys, Max was never going to be her dad (that’s gonna be reserved for Christian lol). Everyone on the grid will be a brother figure, unless stated otherwise – like Fernando is leaning towards the wise grandpa rule and Lewis will be the cool dad (I have a funny story line to go with this idea). All that to say, Max and Kelly will look after her when she needs it most. I also switched the titles. On with the show, and don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the tag list and or if it’s somehow not tagging you! Much love <3

Well, to Max’s dismay and according to google, you cannot adopt your 20 year old teammate that he had met hours earlier.. He had called Kelly early Thursday morning to whine. The more sensible part of his brain also knew that Christian wouldn’t let that happen either. And Kelly had to quickly remind him that he could still watch out for her.

Max seemed to finally agree at the thought of being one of the protective adults in her life. He knew that you had your manager, who you seemed to trust. But, that didn’t help much when you spoke of how lonely you were. He was going to make it his mission to get you to move to Monaco, where he could keep an eye on you.

“Maybe Christian could adopt her,” he muttered, staring angrily at his coffee. What that cup did to offend him, he didn’t know. But what he did know, was that he’d see you again later that night. Another festival for him to attend to. He only wished that Formula 1 went back to racing, and not putting on shows that had a strict attendance policy.

At least you would be there. There was a change in the schedule so that you could be with him, Checo, Daniel, and Yuki on whatever thing they were being put on for the night. The buzzing of his phone ended his staring contest with his cup.

It was a text from you.

Little Racer :

max, i need your help

what are you wearing tonight???

i have an idea, and I think it’s stupid but i want to do it

Big Racer :

If it’s you, I don’t think it’ll be stupid.

Probably what I always wear. Jeans and whatever Red Bull top they give me.

Little Racer :

that’s so grandpa core of you maxie

and what is this all proper grammar for texting lollll

you are not beating the allegations you millennial

Max’s brows furrowed. He was not a grandpa or a millennial. He just liked to use the normal setting on his phone with proper capitalization and end marks. He would just have to ask Charles or Lando to see if they agreed with you. They wouldn’t though…would they? Your next message had him actually dying.

Little Racer :

do you think that Christian will be mad if i come dressed like elvis?

he said i could but i don’t know…

Big Racer :

You wouldn’t dare.

Little Racer :

oh boy ladies and gents, he doesn’t know

*looks into the camera like an episode on the office*

Big Racer :

Did you seriously type all of that?

Don’t answer.

20 bucks says you won’t.

The three little dots danced on his screen as he waited for you to respond.

Little Racer :

just you wait maxie, just you wait

You didn’t text him anything after that. Max could only call Christian to understand what just happened. He picked up after three rings.

“Hello, Max.”

“Hi Christian. First off, happy birthday.”

“Thank you son. But I know you didn’t just call me to wish me a happy birthday. You could have told me that later tonight.” In the background, it sounded like a coffee machine was running. Max hoped he didn’t wake him up.

“Well, Y/n just texted me about wearing, uh.” Max didn’t want to say it out loud, because now it sounded stupid.

“An Elvis costume? Max, the kid called me last night to ask. Said she didn’t want to ruin an image for us if she showed up like that. But I told her that it would be fantastic idea. Poor kid sounded scared.”

Max let out a low hum. He didn’t like the sound of that. You were in no position to worry about such a thing. If anyone was to ruin Red Bull’s image, it would be him. He had no filter and Christian often had to tell him to reign in his thoughts.

Max spoke, “I think I’m going to see about her moving to Monaco. She mentioned she has a flat in Nice, but that’s far away from Milton Keynes, and not close enough to anyone. Christian, she has no one.”

It took a while for Christian to reply. Max could just imagine the older man running his hand along his forehead. It was hard to think of someone so young to be so alone.

“Yeah, I think that would be best for her. I’ll make sure she can afford it. Hell, it could even be a property that we buy just for her to stay in when we have breaks.”

Max listened and nodded his head along. Now it would only be to convince you to move. But suddenly, he remembered his previous conversation with you. He smacked his hand on his head.

“Is everything alright Max?” the Brit on the phone questioned.

“I just lost 20 bucks.”

You however, had no idea that this conversation was happening. All you knew was that you had the go ahead from Christian to wear your beloved Elvis costume. Would you make a fool of yourself? Maybe.

But who cares. It’s Vegas. To your chagrin, Vito had told you that there would be no walk out, but there would be dramatic paddock entrances. He still promised that you would get your song. That’s all that mattered to you.

While you waited for the night to begin, you roamed the hotel. Because you were bored, you actually did a lot.

You started off with breakfast. You were sad that they didn’t have the machines that made Texas-shaped waffles, because that was only in Texas, but the pancakes would do. And because you’re trainer would kill you for not eating well, you took it upon yourself to have a yogurt with some fruit as a side.

After letting the food settle, you went to the gym for that daily grind. It had been a while since you had been able to work out, but you needed to get back on track. You would be racing tomorrow and you needed to be at your best. You lifted some weights first, starting with the smaller ones as warm ups before you got to the bigger ones. The stretch bands were very useful as you squatted the weights.

After you were done, you hopped on the treadmill. By using the lower speeds, you were able to practice your runway walk, as if you would ever be a model. But the speeds increased and you found yourself in a full sprint by the end of the run. Five miles wasn’t bad, and you knew you could have gone farther, but you wanted to take a quick dip in the pool before getting ready.

The water was a nice cool down for your overheated skin. Running was not your first choice of exercise. You’d rather run out of money, than run in real life. It didn’t make sense, but it did. The chlorine in the water was making your hair gross, so you decided to get out so that you could take a shower.

Like the kid you were, you had your outfit laid out the night before, as if you were going on a fieldtrip.

You allowed to take your time in the shower. It wasn’t every day that you made your F1 debut. That had your bones chilled. Your Formula 1 debut. You. Putting your head under the stream, you rinsed out the hair mask that you put on. There would be no nervousness. You were born for this.

The thought of Max’s texts earlier made you giggle. You were glad that he was so welcoming. You would be much more nervous if you had met the infamous Mad Max. But this was more cat-dad Max. Kind Max.

You only hope that you won’t screw things up.

You turned on your playlist as you started to actually get ready. You ordered room service so that you didn’t have to go somewhere to eat. The food was amazing, well, as amazing as hotel food could get. You curled your hair as the remnants of your skin care routine dried. You mumbled the words to a song as you stuck a French fry in your mouth.

Once your moisturizer and various oils and toners dried, you started on your more pronounced makeup look. You knew you were going to be photographed throughout the night, and you needed to look good. Looking at the window, you noticed that the sun was setting. That meant that it was time for you to get dressed, and Vito would be there to pick you up shortly.

Your outfit consisted of a sparkly white crop top and some white pants. A red scarf topped the outfit off.

You would be arriving right behind Max and in front of Checo. You were excited to see the two men again. Moreso, you were excited to earn 20 bucks. With sunglasses on your nose, you were ready to hit the Sin City.

Vito could hardly contain his laughter when you got in the car.

You raised an eyebrow, “What?”

He shook his head as to somehow rid himself of his laughter. “Nothing kid.”

“Well Christian said I could wear it. I’ll blend right in. And besides, I’m almost immediately changing into my race suit.”

He nodded his head at your reasoning. You had pulled off crazier things before, so he didn’t know why he was surprised. Maybe it was because he thought that you might not want to in F1. But, on the inside he was happy that you weren’t losing your child-like nature. He never wanted to see that seeming innocence to leave. He knew that you weren’t totally innocent, but he never wanted to see you hurt to an extent that you quit being happy. That was his favorite thing about you. You seemed to care about what others thought of you, but you knew how to make yourself happy. And if wearing an Elvis costume to the paddock would make you happy, then he would protect your decision.

You could see the flashing lights even before you got out of the car. American paparazzi were on another level. You knew that Red Bull were one of the last ones to show up, and that freaked you out. Almost every single driver was already on the other side of gate. Your nerves settled when you saw Max get out, and you wanted to follow him. But, you realized that this was what you were waiting for.

The familiar sounds of 33 Max Verstappen (the original one) could be heard through the car doors. Max’s face morphed into one of almost disgust. You let out a giant laugh and rolled down your window before you knew what you were doing.

“Max, I love the music. Very Mad Max-esque.”

He quickly flipped you a loving middle finger as he scanned his card to be let into the paddock. Multiple Elvis impersonators gathered around him for a picture. You hadn’t noticed, however, that the moment you rolled your window down, all of the cameras and photographers were now pointed at you.

You buzzed with energy when you heard Life is a Highway start to fill the air.

On the other side of the paddock, Max had stopped to talk to Lando, Oscar, Carlos, and Charles. He also was waiting for you so that you could walk with him to the Red Bull hospitality. He glanced over to see if you were out of the car at least.

“Nice entrance mate,” Lando clapped him on the shoulder. He rolled his eyes. He’s sure that you roped Christian in to play the song.

“Well what did they play for you?”

Lando deflated and muttered, “Let’s go Lando.” Carlos and Charles, along with Max, laughed at his demise.

Charles suddenly looked over Max’s shoulder. At that moment, Carlos spoke up.

“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan.” The drums and guitar seemed to be turned up to the highest setting. What. An. Entrance.

Max had a glimmer in his eyes, “He’s not.”

And suddenly, there you were. In your Elvis costume. And you were loving it. You waved at all the people around you, quickly becoming a crowd favorite.

From his right, Charles hums and Lando’s jaw is dropped.

“That’s the new rookie, correct?” Suddenly, George was with them, along with Alex.

Max only chuckled. “Yep.” He popped the “p.”

Charles spoke up, “She’s nice. I met her at Arthur’s birthday party, but didn’t speak to her much.”

“You all will love her. Trust me,” Max said, eyes widened as you got crowded with the other Elvises. You smile could outshine a thousand suns.

Your eyes quickly met his and you gave him a giant wave. He beckoned you to come over. You flashed a nervous look before it melted away, replaced with bravery. If there was a time to meet some of the grid, you really hadn’t wanted to be dressed as Elvis.

Your steps were quick and you made it over in no time. Now, most drivers are tall, but look short next to George, being the giraffe that he is. However, you were another thing.

You’d definitely be taller than Yuki by a couple of inches. But you stood closer to five-foot-six (167.64 cm.), almost 5 inches shorter than Max, and four inches shorter than the rest.

You gave a shy wave as you spoke, “Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You suddenly remembered something. You turned to Max and held out your hand.

The boys’ eyes widened as Max fished out his wallet and placed a bill in your outstretched hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you sir.” You mocked a salute.

Lando tsk-ed, “What did our Max loose a bet on?”

“He said I wouldn’t come dressed like this. Little did he know, I’ve had this in my closet for years.” Lando couldn’t help but laugh at your revelation, and neither could Carlos and Charles.

“Yeah, kid, you should have told me that Christian already gave you the go ahead.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” You had a shit-eating smirk on your face. Lando was the first one to speak up.

“How old are you? Max over here keeps calling you kid.”

“I’m twenty.”

It was an amazing recreation of that one tik-tok trend. I’m twenty, insert looks of disgust, uhg. Your heart dropped at their reactions.

It was Carlos who surprised you. He quickly patted your head, “Aw, just a baby.”

You looked at him in awestruck. You leaned over to Max and all but whispered, “Max?”

“Yes kid?” he said in full voice.

“He’s older than you right?”

“Yes.”

“Can I do the thing?” Max looked Carlos up and down before smiling.

“Go right ahead.” The smile that you had was wiped off your face. You squared your shoulders and held out your hand. Carlos took it with a confused look. You gave him a firm handshake.

“Thank you Mr. Sainz.” You swear he did a full body cringe. He was about to say something, but Christian had waved the two of you over, yelling something about time to get ready.

You flashed a smile at the small group, “It was nice meeting you!” You all but bounced away as Max calmly walked by your side.

“Did she just?” Lando looked to Carlos, who was frozen in his spot. He looked like someone had just told him that his car had blown up on the way here.

He looked at his hands. “Mr.,” he gulped, “Sainz?”

Oscar finally piped up. “Well, you are old.” Carlos looked close to a breakdown.

Charles put a hand on his shoulder as he watched you and Max walk on the ramp. Max’s face was now stone-cold, yet yours still radiated so much warmth. “Come on mate. We got to go.”

As they walked away, Carlos questioned, “I’m not old, am I?’ Charles could not, would not, should not, give him an answer.

Lando and Oscar just looked at each other and then back at the disappearing duos. Laughter filled the air as they also began to walk to their respective hospitalities.

As you and Max got closer to the garage, you got a little quieter.

“I don’t think they liked me very much. I knew the costume would be a bad idea.” The look of dejection was all over your face. Max looked over at you and huffed.

“Kid, they just don’t know you yet. They’re also stressed about this race. No driver liked to drive on a track that was built in a month.”

“You’re right.”

“Kid, I’m always right.” You hit his shoulder.

Christian was quick to get you, Checo, and Max all together for a couple of pictures. Since it was Christian’s birthday, there was cake and everything for a small celebration. After, the three of you were told to get into the racing suits for the opening celebration.

You were with Mitch while you did so.

“You’re telling me. That Kurt Cobain is going to perform. And I’m going to miss it! With John Legend!” Your eyes were wide as you zipped the suit up.

“For the last time kid, you can meet them after.” You pouted as you tied your shoes.

“Fine. But let me say, this is very Hunger Games of them. So Americanesque.” Mitch just let you talk.

After you were ready, minus the helmet and all that, Mitch led you to the glass box. You turned to look at her.

“Promise me that you’re not going to be dragged away to your death. This is so Katniss Everdeen coded and I cannot lose you like she lost Cinna.” Mitch was going to tell you off for worrying too much, but she could see through your eyes that you were trying to actually tell her that you were scared of the whole thing. No wonder you were rambling, you were just nervous.

Mitch brought you into a hug and squeezed. You practically melted as you squeezed her back. Over your shoulder, Max was looking at the whole ordeal. He’ll give you a hug right before they went up. He knew how scary this world was.

Mitch was given the signal that everything was about to start. You climbed into the box and some official closed the door.

Mitch looked up at you, “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Your jaw dropped in appall as you were slowly being lifted. So she did know the movie!

Max put a comforting hand on your shoulder as your face was suddenly hit with a breeze. All around you, people were cheering and lights were flashing. You suddenly wished you had brought your sunglasses with you.

Max scoffed as he raised his hand to wave.

“What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t racing. We’re standing here, being observed, like a bunch of clowns.”

“At least this won’t last long. We’ll be in the car soon Max.” You were right. If it meant anything, he would be back in the car soon, in his element.

A beep let you three know that the machine would be going down in the next few moments. When the machine jolted down, you quickly stood up straight, hand behind your back, and put three fingers to your mouth. Your lips kissed your fingertips before you held the three fingers up.

It was still loud as you did it, but the crowd died down as they watched you and mirrored your display. You watched in awe at the raised hands.

The three of you lost sight of the crowds as the box was now back where it started. Max looked at you in bewilderment.

“What was that?”

You let out a large gasp. “You’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” You must have been loud because someone else gasped as well. Looking over, you were met with the sight of blond hair and striking blue eyes.

“Max, you’ve never seen the Hunger Games?” Logan stomped over.

“Dude I know. So not girl boss of him.” Max looked at the two of you in confusion. Girl? Boss?

You and Logan were quickly swept into a conversation about American tendencies while Max just stood in between the both of you, looking like he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis. You and Logan were only pulled away when you needed to get into the car for free practice.

As you left, you turned around and faced Logan, giving him a look of faux sympathy. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

“At least you didn’t volunteer,” Logan laughed as he turned away.

Max was still in the middle of his midlife crisis when Christian came to tell everyone that it was time to head to the garage.

You felt your heart rate picking up as you got closer to the garage. You took a deep breath and exhaled.

It was show time.

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #ollie bearman x reader #alex albon x reader #logan sargeant x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader

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littlebluespoon · 7 months

Text

Stuck (Again) Octo!König Part 2

Here we go, part 2. A bit of a darker but still as adorable König. This ended up three times the length of part 1 and I'm considering a part 3 if y'all want it :)

Part 1 - Stuck Part 3 - Unstuck Part 4 - Stranded

On the journey back to base you noticed that König was still bleeding, while it was slower than in his human form it was soaking through your shirt. At some point you were going to have to treat him but you had no experience in aquatic shifters and seeing as it wasn’t in his file, you doubted the Kortac medics knew more than you. Of course, priority number one was to get him unattached from you,

“König, you’re still bleeding. You gotta let go so I can figure out how bad it is.” Gently you try to pry his tentacles off but every time you get one and move onto the next he just re-attaches it,

“König! You need to let go now!” you resort to scolding and annoying him in the hope that something will work, “You need medical attention you stubborn ass, let go or shift back.” Emphasising each word with a poke to his face.

A staring contest with an octopus was not on your to-do list for today. But for the last hour it’s the only thing you’ve accomplished. Everyone else has been seen to, all patched up and every joke about your new accessory ignored, even the paperwork has been finished. You needed a plan and you needed to know more about octopuses.

Firing up everyone’s best research tool, Google, you delve into the world of an octopus. Learning that their tentacles are actually arms and that they taste with them; that they have a beak; three hearts and that they can lose and regrow their arms. The last fact seemed the most important to you, it meant you didn’t have to be gentle in pulling him off you. But first you tried something a little less rough, getting into the shower. Figuring that he had to be feeling a little dried out you opted to get under the water and hoped it would encourage hum to pull off. It took some persistence but after about ten minutes and with some more, slightly rougher prodding, König eventually detached himself from your chest,

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” you gently splash some water over him and watch as he rolls around, throwing it all over the place.

After a while of playing and laughing at the small octopus’s antics you made a move to get up as your wet clothes were getting uncomfortable but the movement startled König,

“hey, no, sorry buddy. I didn’t mean to scare you,” you’re reaching forward to pick him up when it happens, “ No, König come back!” he scurries off, faster than you thought he could and by the time you’ve slipped your way through the shower bank, he’s gone.

~~~

In the weeks following on base, you only ever saw König out of your peripheral. Always lingering but with no interaction. And then Kortac were called out. Months went by with no sign of him but every week you learned a little more about him. Taking aquatic hybrid first aid courses, researching more about octopuses and their hybrid types. Learning that they were solitary animals explained a lot for you and it was in your first aid courses that you learned how rare an octopus hybrid is. Most female octopus hybrids die after giving birth, it's something they have in common with the animal counterpart, so they mostly live isolated lives with only other females for company and it’s the males that keep the genetics going by taking a human partner.

The day König returned to your life was a bad day. You slept through your alarm and missed parade, your supply delivery was missing nearly everything you’d ordered, drowning in paperwork meant you missed lunch and to top it all off, it had not stopped raining. So when you heard the shouts outside the infirmary you nearly burst into tears. Instead your door burst open and six men rushed in carrying König. Time froze, you could no nothing but stare at him, at the cuts, burns, the pole sticking out of his arm. The blue blood covering the room in seconds. In reality you were already screaming orders and reaching for your fully stocked aquatic first aid kit. Something that had never been used, something that you had only gotten for him even though he wasn’t your responsibility.

Hours passed; marked by vital checks, medicine doses and dressing changes. Hours passed and König remained unconscious, too exhausted to even trigger his body’s defences and shift into his smaller, more durable form. Hours turned to days. Days that were marked by the cold cups of tea left undrunk, the smell of antiseptic burning its way into your skin, the cold of his hand under yours. You had vowed to not move until you were sure he’d heal. Until he shifted and you could carry him with you.

Eight days passed in this manner. You as quiet as him, only your breathing and the machines made noise in the room. That’s when it happened, the heart rate monitor alarmed, the oxygen meter, everything in the room was going off but all you could do was stare at him. Now dwarfed in the bed was König, seven and a half arms, bright orange, and awake. And trying to run away,

“Oh no you don’t.” You snatch him up from the edge and immediately pull him to your chest, “Not this time buddy, you’re missing half an arm and even if you weren’t you lost so much blood I looked like a smurf!” sensing that he wasn’t getting away, you watched with a fond smile as he squirmed his way under your shirt and returned to his favourite spot.

“Right, now that you’re out of danger and awake lets get some food first. Crab or shrimp?” You asked the little guy, giving him a pet on the head and chuckling as he lets out a series of clicks.

Walking into the mess hall meant you were rushed by every Kortac soldier there,

“Is he okay?” “Can we see him?” “Will he survive?”

While not a very sociable person, König was well respected as a soldier and commander. The lower ranks looked up to him and idolised him.

“He’s fine, he’s doing a lot better but he needs some more monitoring. I’m sure you can all see him soon.” You let them all know that you’ll tell him they were asking and pass on their get well soon messages before heading through to the kitchen and to the freezer at the back which held the specially ordered food for hybrids with dietary requirements.

Dinner was interesting. If anyone was watching you they were going to think they were hallucinating as they watched you drop bits of crab down your top. The few sounds König made were quite, small pops and low whistles that only you could hear and you hoped it meant he was enjoying the food. In between feeding him you fed yourself and eventually it was time for to head back, König needed more medicine and you wanted to check for infections after your little excursion.

“On the bed please, I gotta grab your medicine.” Expectedly holding out your hand for him to climb onto as you pull down your shirt but he doesn’t move, “König, sweetheart, move.” More prodding, more pulling, all id did was leave you with little sucker shaped bruises.

“König, I swear to god I’m not doing this again. Get on the bed. Maybe, if you behave- we can go in the shower again” Bargaining was your last resort, you couldn’t check him over if he was still attached to you.

Slowly you watched as König’s arms moved, one at a time, to pull him up your body. Pulling harder at your skin than he had before to leave marks up your neck before eventually settling on your throat with his arms wrapped around your neck. Your protests were short lived as the second you opened your mouth he squeezed a little tighter, not relaxing until you stopped trying to speak altogether.

Your night continued like this, paperwork was done with the occasional ink drip, talking to patients was done with as few words as possible, bending over wasn’t comfortable and your top ended up soaking anyway as König dumped your wattle bottle over himself and then demanded more with whistles increasing in pitch as you refused. As you signed the last report you tried once more to get him off,

“You’ve had your fun König but I’m tired. I want to go to bed and you need medication so plea-“ your words are cut off by a harsh squeeze that takes your breath away. Louds clicks punctuated by the slapping of tentacles against your skin fill your ears before eventually you’re allowed to breathe again. Taking the hint, you make your way to the shower before bed, promising yourself that tomorrow you’ll find a way to get him unstuck.

~~~

As always, asks and requests are open. Feel free to send me stuff, questions, whatevers 💙

#bluespoonswriting #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #konig #könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #könig call of duty #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #könig cod #octo!könig #Octo!konig

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tzuyusluv · 1 year

Text

❥ Super Board

genre → fluff

pairing → skz x reader

warnings → secret relationships

word count → 0.7k

summary → this request right here <3

Chan

“Chan! Chan!” The man in question groans when he heard Seungmin’s voice calling out for him. His buff arms pull you even closer to him allowing him to bury his face in your neck. “No one’s home.” Chan’s voice can barely be heard in your neck. The studio door opens and you can hear Seungmin gasp. Looking up at him, his eyes and mouth open wide. “I knew it! I told the others but they didn’t believe me! I was right!” Chan watches as Seungmin practically sprints out of the room yelling for the others. “I should’ve locked the door.”

Minho

Han’s eyebrows creased even further when he noticed Minho phone case. It had changed from the cats to being clear with a photo in the back. “Hey Minho, could I borrow your phone for a minute? I need to text Chan.” Minho didn’t think twice about it before handing Jisung his phone. Waiting until Minho went back to talking to Changbin, and when he finally did, Han flipped over his phone to see a cute photo of you and Minho in a photobooth giving each other a small peck. Han’s eyebrow’s went upwards at the discovery. Once he handed back Minho’s phone, he decided to say something. “So Minho, minding explaining why you and you’re ‘best friend’ are kissing each other in that photo?”

Changbin

He didn’t think the boys would notice the new lock screen. Not when they were practicing their new choreography. Going to fill up his water bottle on their break, he didn’t expect to come back too the others staring at him. After a small staring contest between all of them, Chan eventually broke the silence. “So….who’s the cutie on your lock screen?”

Hyunjin

“Whatcha doing hyung?” The maknae walks into the art room. “Just painting.” Hyunjin refuses to take his attention off of the art, knowing that there was a high probability he would make a mistake and everything for you had to be perfect. “What are you painting?” Hyunjin freezes, you had only been dating about two months and none of the boys knew. “Just a picture I saw on pinterest.” He mumbles. “Really? Because I think that looks oddly familiar to my friend.” Hyunjin knows he screwed now.

Han

“Han, it’s about three now, are you coming with us?” Changbin says while yawning. “Not yet. I just got hit with some more inspiration. I’ll meet you guys back at the dorms.” Changbin frowns but agrees. “Alright, goodnight.” “Goodnight.” Changbin shuts the door and Han can hear his footsteps leave. Han isn’t sure when he fell asleep but he wakes up to Changbin shaking his shoulder. “What’s up hyung, what do you need?” Han isn’t able to say the sentence without a yawn. “Just reading your rap and curious as to who the person you wrote about is.” That wakes Han up. “I didn’t write that rap about anyone.” Changbin just gives him a look that shows he didn’t believe him. “Yeah? Is that name just a random one? It didn’t come from anyone?”

Felix

“Who’s that next to your sister?” Minho whispers to Felix. “Hmm?” Felix looks over at his band mate ‘confused’. “The person next to your sisters, I haven’t seen them before but it seems like your sisters are close.” Minho watches as Felix stays silent with no explanation as to who you were to him. “They’re just a friend…” Even Felix cringes at the hesitation in his voice. Minho lifts up an eyebrow at that. “A friend or a friend?” Felix once again hesitates, letting Minho know the answer. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell the others.”

Seungmin

“Can we go into this shop?” Felix looks confused but nonetheless agrees. “What are you looking for? Anything specific?” Seungmin just nods his head no. His eyes then lock onto a puppy plushie. He walks over to it and grabs it before walking back to the checkout, Felix struggling to catch up. As they’re waiting in line, Felix asks if it was for someone special, expecting Seungmin to give him a side eye, but he didn’t expect Seungmin to blush and have no words to defend himself with.

Jeongin

Hyunjin scoffed when he was the one to go fetch the maknae who had, once again, slept in past the practice time. Unlocking the door, grumbling as he makes it to the bedroom, he freezes when he sees two bodies on Jeongin’s bed. Creeping closer, he realizes that it’s you, the person who Jeongin adamantly says is just a friend. Hyunjin scoffs at that. Yeah, a friend who cuddles with their other friends and who look at each other with heart eyes constantly.

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xonavia · 23 days

Note

hi can i request chigiri rin nagi bachira and isagi getting jealous of the reader’s cat, who keeps hogging her attention? if that’s too much just chigiri is fine 🥰 (i love your writing sm)

Aww thank you so much!! <3 I ended up being on a writing kick when I was doing this and instead of doing my genetics work I did all of them, I hope you enjoy anon!!

Chigiri

-> As I’ve said before and I will say again and again until I die, THIS MAN IS SIDE EYE CENTRAL, he’s not good at saying what he feels so instead he tries to mask it but it always shows up on his face

-> Will side eye that cat until until it either moves or he gets so pissed off that he finally tries to tell you but your way to enamored with the cat so he’ll just catch you off guard by like kissing you or smth

-> Hates that cat from now on, like why is it all over you?? As your boyfriend, that's his Job, I mean not like he’d tell you that.

-> when your not looking tries to shoo the cat away, but to no avail, he’ll just again side eye that thing until either you or your cat gets the hint

Rin

-> Another one who will side eye that cat

-> he was only trying to slightly snuggle with you while watching a movie and he was interrupted by this “lukewarm feline” (as he calls it). He’s pissed and if you look over at him he looks like he mighty kill your cat, so make sure you’re watching over it later

-> Also won’t stop side eyeing it until it moves, or you move it.

-> And once he gets you to cuddle him he won’t hesitate to make sure it stays away, if he can even get that far, since it seems you like this cat more than you like him

-> But is that cat gonna hold you once you scream at a random murderer appearing on your screen? I think the hell not! (Will use the movie he put on as an excuse to hold you and get the cat away from you)

Nagi

-> Was probably already laying on you when the cat came over

-> when he was moved out of his spot because of your cat he was a little pissed off, he had this frown on his face and it was the most expression you had seen out of him in a while

-> but when you tried to ask, he was a little too into the mobile game he was playing and knowing him it might have been too much of a “hassle” to actually tell you fully what had happened. So you did the next best thing you could think of

-> Calling Reo. It didn’t take long for him to answer knowing that it was most likely something about Nagi and with a couple words he had already figured it out. Nagi was wayyyy to whipped for your attention and so that was all there was, and now he will frown at your cat whenever it comes near

-> at this point you may have to grow an extra hand, since one is used for playing with your cat of a boyfriends hair, while the other is used for playing with your actual cats fur

Bachira

-> Staring contest with the cat to get it to move

-> will probably accidentally scare your cat off, because he tries to cuddle your cat and you at the same time.. and lets just say it doesn’t work all that well

-> Will get pouty though if you pay more attention to your cat them him, but one of the only ones on the list that has no issues shooing the cat away, and if you scold him for it he just pretends that he didn’t hear you and containers trying to cuddle with you

-> Eventually by the end of night quite possibly chased the cat like 3 times trying to cuddle with it, while also cuddling with you

-> Your poor cat might have to go to therapy after everytime that Bachira visits

Isagi

-> FINALLY ONE THAT WILL ACTUALLY SAY SOMETHING

-> I mean after he tries to take care of it himself, but if he can’t get any attention from you he’ll actually speak up and ask for some!! (One of the fine moments he will be a green flag)

-> Will try to slightly push your cat away when he’s cuddling with you, since it’s almost like a dad, trying to place himself/herself right in between the two of you when you were just sitting on the couch

-> Groans many times at even the mention of your cat, and we he sees it’s smug little face when it’s getting all your attention and all your affection

-> You will have a pretty good laugh while he pulls you back into his arms, but as soon as your there he goes back to normal

-> Does try to not get jealous of a cat, he finally realizes how silly it sounds, and somewhere in there does lead him to thinking about the future, and how he can’t be jealous of y’all’s little ones!

#blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri hyoma #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro #meguru bachira x reader #bachira meguru #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #xonavia's writings!

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lqveharrington · 10 months

Text

Love-Hate | H.B.

summary: you’re love-hate relationship with Hobie Brown himself <3

pairing: Hobie Brown x fem!Spidey!reader

warnings: kinda suggestive !! making out, fluff if you squint, cursing, gwen and miles being in an awkward situation, lmk if i forgot any !!

wc: 1.5k+

a/n: it’s so hard to write for hobie’s accent oml !!

————

You had a love-hate relationship with Hobie.

Literally.

One second you’ll be annoyed at him for taking all the snacks you announced you wanted to have and the next, you’ll be making out in the break room, knocking things over. It was a never-ending cycle that confused everyone who witnessed an interaction. Even during missions Miguel sent out, the bickering wouldn’t end and in return, the make-outs wouldn’t end.

You never labeled the relationship as anything and Hobie hated labels, so it was a win-win situation. There would be some moments where you were just friendly with each other, but the arguments that would soon blow up in your faces will always end whatever chance others would deem as a healthy relationship.

Sometimes, your closest friends at HQ were nothing but added more reasons to your disputes with each other. The typical starter to a fight would be one stealing the others' belongings without them knowing. Yet, neither of you could ever give proof until an hour later when the item would appear back in its rightful place where it was last left.

Gwen being the cause of those fights.

Just like today, but worse.

You were pissed. And it wasn’t even Hobie’s fault for once. Still, he decided today would be the day to be the most aggravating person in the world.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, love?” He draped an arm around your shoulders, feigning false hurt when you pushed him off. “Nice to know you have some sort of emotion.”

“Hobie, go away.” You glare in his direction, finding a smirk displayed on his face. Not giving him the satisfaction of blowing up just yet, you answer his previous question. “Miguel is being a huge dick. I fought the stupid anomaly off and got blamed for not calling it in. What does he want me to do? Risk the entire universe, my universe to be more precise, just to call in a stupid anomaly? I would rather be stranded on a deserted island than risk that! I hate him so much, I have no idea why I joined this stupid society!”

You enter one of the more secluded areas you claimed as your own place, scanning for the walkman your dad gave you before he… Well, you all know the canon event by now.

“Where the fuck is it?” You let out a frustrated groan, opening the drawers and slamming them shut once you realized someone had taken it. “Did you take it?”

“What?”

“Did you take the walkman?” You stare up at him, glare still prominent. “I left it here.”

“Why would I take the walkman?” Hobie blatantly replied, hands in the pockets of his vest as he leaned against one of the walls, his guitar placed right beside him.

“Because you steal all of my shit, Hobie!” You rub your forehead, earning a raised brow from the male. “You know what? Fine, it’s fine. Everything is fine. I just need to relax. Then maybe you’ll give back the Walkman.”

“I don’t have the bloody Walkman.” He walked up to you, mere inches away. “And if I did, I would ‘ave gave it to ya’ as it seems you’re in a bit of a pissy mood.”

“Bite me.” You roll your eyes at his words, shifting closer to his frame. “You always take my things! No matter what time of day it is, where we are, it always goes missing! And you clearly don’t understand the value of this particular item!”

You looked up at him as you breathed heavily from the small outburst.

“I didn’t take anything.” Hobie met your eyes and leaned the smallest bit.

“Liar.” You reply with a voice laced with pure hate.

If anyone had walked in for the first few seconds, they would’ve thought it was a staring contest. But the sudden energy that emitted from the both of you completely took over, now hoping no one walked in.

Your hands pulled on his vest as he held your face with one hand and your waist with the other, his lips meeting you with such force and passion. As swiftly as it happened, you were able to sync up your movements, allowing Hobie to push you on the couch.

“I fucking hate you.” You separate from him, catching your breath.

“Feelings mutual, love.” He kissed your jaw and moved down to your neck, leaving small pecks and sucking on the more sensitive parts. You let out a small moan at the action, tugging on his vest and wanting to feel his lips back on your own.

“You’re so fucking needy.”

“Shut up.” You close the gap between you two, the coolness of his lip ring sending a miniature shiver down your spine.

He slotted one of his legs between both of yours, eliciting a whimper you tried to hold back. Something that Hobie didn’t fail to hear. He shifted his leg with the smallest amount of force causing you to gasp, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. He swallowed all your noises, immediately feeling the need to get closer than you already were.

Hobie pulled away from you, the line of spit connecting the two of you splitting as you groaned from the physical detachment.

“Bee, what the fuck!” Your brows furrowed in confusion, eyes still full of desire for the Brit in front of you.

“Y’know how much I hate your Spidey suit.” He squeezed your waist, watching you squirm underneath him. “It makes everything so impossible.”

You huff, “Don’t blame me for something you started.”

“I didn’t take your walkman.” He spoke in a lower tone, eyes darkening. “How many times will I have to say that for you to get that in your pretty likkle mind?”

“Fuck you.”

“You fucking wish.” Hobie went to attack your neck once more, this time gaining a much louder moan. Your own eyes widen at the noise.

He groaned into your neck, “Holy shit, love.”

— —

“Miles, you’ve discovered every inch of this place! What more do you need to discover?” Gwen walked backward, watching her friend’s eyes light up as he spotted a hallway he’s never been in. “What?”

“What’s over there?”

Gwen looked over to where he was pointing, immediate regret taking over. I knew I should’ve gone another way. She thought.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. Let’s go to the break room and bother more cool Spider-men!”

Miles raised a brow at her sudden energy to leave the area. “What? Are you hiding something there?”

“Me? I won’t ever hide something in this stupid place.” She crossed her arms, standing her ground. “Let’s leave.”

“Nope.” He popped his p, already walking to the new area. “I wanna look to see what’s over there.”

“It’s boring! It is so boring over there.” Gwen followed, hoping that you weren’t there.

“If it’s boring, why do you want us to leave this place so bad?”

“Just… Because.” She stuck her tongue out. “Just come on, nothing good is over—“

“Fuck!”

The distant sound made Miles concerned, thinking someone was hurt in the area. He started to make his way down the hallway, Gwen trying to stop him before he saw something he wished he didn’t.

“Gwen. If something bad happens down there and we could’ve prevented it, it’ll be on you.” He poked her arm, web shooters ready just in case. “We’ll just check, okay?”

The blonde bit her lip and nodded. Instead of getting her web-shooters ready to shoot at whatever the cause is, she got ready to web his eyes closed and her own hands to cover hers.

Miles burst into the room flicking the lights on, screaming to scare off whatever it was.

You and Hobie, on the other hand, jumped at the noise, Hobie throwing a pillow at the culprit.

“MILES?!” You shout, hiding yourself under Hobie, silently cursing. “GWEN?!”

“OH, MY EYES!” Miles turns around, Gwen in return webbing them shut a little too late. “OW, MY EYES!”

“Oops, sorry, Miles.” She pats his shoulder, not making eye contact with the older pair. “Hey, Hobie… Hey—”

“As much as I love a group reunion, get the fuck out.” Hobie dropped his head on your shoulder, muttering out words that weren’t too nice. Gwen quickly turned around and left without struggle, Miles still struggling with the web stuck on his face. The blonde whispered an apology to the boy, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the room.

“Sorry— OW! Gwen!” Miles leaves the room with a yelp.

Hobie rolls his eyes at the pair, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “So?”

You stare back, “What?”

“You called me Bee.” He gave a smug look. “You like me.”

“I do not!”

“Whatever you say.”

You smack his arm, adjusting the way you lay on the couch. “You still took my walkman.”

“Gwendy literally left it on the counter over there,” Hobie smirks in your direction. “Either your spidey senses aren’t working or you love me.”

“Love? No. Absolutely not.”

“The look of messy everything on you is a style then, yeah?” He clicks his tongue, taking in your disheveled look.

“I hate you.”

“Hate you too.” He gave you one last kiss, which believe it or not, left a small smile on your lips.

————

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stareaterau · 8 months

Text

Chapter 1 episode 3

←Previous episode

Next episode→

Index

---

Let's see if these two have murdered each other yet

CW: injury, blood, violence

Read below↓

Or AO3

"You're that bird person from the alleyway."

In front of Scar, the familiar stranger stands motionless and quiet, framed by the striated walls of the ravine. Despite having placed their weapon back in its sheath, they still look as if they’re on edge. Their body is tightly wound, their wings held out slightly, in a subtle effort to make their form larger, combating Scar's height. At their side, their taloned hands hang, fidgeting restlessly.

Scar shuffles awkwardly under his piercing gaze, growing more uncomfortable by the second. His reflection stares back at him from the deep, black voids of their eyes. At first, Scar had thought that they were utterly black, but, looking now, he can see the slight edge of brown circling his wide pupils, the bright sun casting an almost purple sheen across their surface. They’re quite pretty, he muses, as he waits for the other's response. He rocks on his heels, grimacing slightly at the deep ache setting into his legs and the soles of his feet.

Growing impatient at the silence, Scar reaches out, tempting fate by waving his hand in front of the bird's face. Nothing. The stranger continues to stare at Scar, unblinking. The only sign of recognition he can decipher is the slightest flicker of his feathers as they bristle at the proximity. Scar huffs, disappointed at his failure to evoke a reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have big, creepy eyes?”

That manages to break him out of his stoic stare. He splutters awkwardly, gawking, an incredulous look crossing his face. He looks away, embarrassed.

“Ah hah! You looked away, I won the staring contest!” Scar grins triumphantly.

“I wasn't- what? I was just processing-” The stranger doesn’t return the disarming gesture, their mouth a thin line. Their arms clank softly against each other as he crosses them. Scar hadn’t gotten a good look at them before. He’d thought that they had just been wearing a long, black undershirt at first, but there’s no mistaking the dark metallic casing and wiring of the robotic prosthetics.

“Imagine the chances we’d ever meet again, huh?” Scar grins wildly, stepping forward with as open a demeanour as he can muster, pretending he’s meeting an old friend. He almost is, in a messed up way.

The stranger doesn’t return this warm gesture either. Instead, he frowns at Scar, a multitude of emotions unsuccessfully masked as they cross his face. His gaze flickers up to meet Scar’s eyes before something scared or sorrowful flashes in him, directing the strangers' eyes to their feet instead. Their expression now hides behind their tangled hair as it falls across his face. He searches for the right words, but they die on his tongue. Shaking his head, he resets his expression, carefully masking any unwanted emotion. Finally, he looks back at Scar with a soft yet concerned smile.

“I- I couldn't- I sorta thought I killed you that night.”

“Oh… OH! I'm like a ghost to you!” Scar raises his hands in a mock scary gesture, making a low ‘ooo’ sound to do his best imitation of one. It would put everyone else’s attempts to shame at the yearly Vindicators' spaceween party, he thinks smugly. He’s sure his attempts to lessen the tension between his evidently awkward company and himself is working. It always works… or it works sometimes at least… Actually, this might be the first time he’s been able to get this far.

Unamused, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “Well not so much anymore- you'd be a pretty bad ghost if I could’ve tackled you that easily.”

“Ah- that's no fair. You have wings… and I don’t have the ability to turn incorporeal, yet.”

“Mm-hm.” The stranger hums, shifting as they drag their taloned feet through the sand, etching grooves in the grainy surface. Scar pauses, racking his brain for a response, desperately not wanting to lose the traction on the conversation he had just gained. If he lets the stranger shut himself off now, he’ll have to do all the work to get him to open up again. Scar doesn’t want the only sounds in this empty desert to be himself and the whistle of wind through sandstone tunnels.

“My name is Scar, by the way.”

The stranger turns his attention back to Scar. Pausing, as if they’re expecting there to be more to that statement. They frown, not looking convinced.

“Is that a nickname, or just an unfortunate coincidence?” They ask, tentatively, like they’re trying to avoid saying something to offend Scar.

“Hah! Wouldn't you like to know!”

That, out of everything, gets a laugh. However, the stranger quickly tries to disguise it behind a fake cough, burying his face in his arm. Scar smirks, satisfied by the other's reaction, ignoring a twinge of pain from the knife wound in his shoulder.

They look back to Scar, a more playful expression creeping its way onto their face. “…Yes, that is the nature of a question.”

Their wings slowly lower back into a more natural position, the muscles relaxing— not muscles, his wings look robotic, too. They’re covered in feathers, but they’re held up and moved by a metal armature where the bone should be. For a second, Scar wonders how much of their body remains untouched by metalwork.

Regardless, Scar just beams at him, revelling in his ability to make them laugh. Happy with his ability to lessen their agitation, he makes no indication of wanting to answer the question.

The stranger chuckles awkwardly at the silence and shrugs.

“Heh… well, my name's Grian.”

“Oh! That name really suits you.”

“Thanks?”

Scar watches as they pick up their helmet off the ground, shaking it gently to knock out the sand. They clip the helmet to their belt and turn away from Scar, walking off in the direction Scar had been headed earlier.

“Where are you going?” He calls out at him.

“I- We-” Scar catches the way Grian corrects himself, hoping that means his new friend has decided not to try attacking him again, “-should get moving to somewhere with more cover. It's getting darker.”

“Wh- how could you even tell that? It feels like the whole sky is just the sun.”

To emphasise his point, Scar stands up straighter, turning his gaze to the sky to try and pinpoint the sun within the harsh light. After a moment, he shields his eyes from the glare with his hand. Another moment later, unsuccessful, Scar lowers his gaze. He blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes, trying to lose the blurry afterimage that stays behind and plagues his vision. Grian looks away from Scar, an unreadable, mostly uncomfortable expression on his face. He flexes his wings, shaking his feathers out, then strides away.

Scar realises he’s falling behind. He catches up hastily, coughing up an air of responsibility to match Grian’s. They are a ‘we’ after all.

Scar is honestly glad for Grian's company. He provides a familiar face, even if he is a familiar face he met only briefly… and a familiar face that promptly tried to kill him upon reuniting. At least Scar doesn’t feel like he has to pretend to be serious around him— Grian has that handled for the both of them. Although, Scar is certainly going to do his best to break through the birds' cold facade. “So, are we heading in any particular direction?”

Grian shakes his head, before realizing he should elaborate.

“I can fly up and scout out a direction later, but not now. Right now, I'd like to find a spot to rest.”

He stretches his wings out fully, the feathers bristling as the hinges make a soft rattling whine. Scar marvels at the impressive wingspan. He’s never seen wings quite this big before.

“You were flying a lot?” Scar watches them, intrigued. They don’t look like elytra, despite their metal parts, and Grian has far more control over them than even an experienced user. Elytra also don’t tend to come feathered like his— his look jarringly realistic. Maybe he’s an avian?

Scar’s never actually seen an avian before, though that’s not out of the ordinary. Most people haven’t. Could robotic enhancements be commonplace amongst them? Scar is somewhat familiar with enhancements, they’d even been offered to him once, but he’d declined, opting for the less invasive options. Mechanically enhancing what were once organic wings is the only option Scar can think of that matches Grian’s capabilities. That must be what he is, Scar concludes. Though, he pictured avians being taller.

“Yes,” Grian replies bluntly, his tone changing noticeably at the subject.

“Do you have an enderchest?” Scar inquires instead, searching for topics that aren’t sore spots.

Grian whips his head up to look at Scar, a bewildered expression spreading across his face.

“...What? No.”

“Dang it.” Scar sighs.

“Why would you want an enderchest?” He asks, growing curious after the initial surprise.

“I lost mine. It has some pretty important things in it that I need.” Scar hums, looking down at his scratched leg braces. They’re starting to creak under the strain of walking for so long. If Grian had one, he could use it to access his stuff. He really could do with his cane, or anything that can ease the stress on his braces. Grian follows Scar’s gaze, a particularly strained expression returning to his face. Scar frowns at how he almost looks guilty.

“I know you’re a Vindicator and everything,” Grian makes an effort to maintain the current topic and hide the distaste in his tone as he eyes Scar’s neat, albeit dusty, uniform. Scar isn’t surprised by Grian’s opinion on Vindicators. Grian was wanted by them when they had first met, but he at least has the decency to swap his tone out for a more apologetic one towards the end. “Enderchests aren't as common as you think. It might be a while till you can get to one.”

“...Really?”

“Yup.”

“Do you know where we are, then?” Scar quizzes, taking note of Grian's phrasing.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don't know where we are, or how I got here. You're the first person I've seen.”

Grian looks away, pausing to calculate his answer. His hard-won casual demeanour bleeds back into his previous defensive apathy. “We're in the same boat, I have no idea.”

Scar watches him, sure that Grian is holding something back. There’s something he doesn’t want Scar to know. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Pressing him on it would probably just push the avian further away. The last thing Scar wants to do is push away the only person he’s seen for miles, especially when that person seems to know more than what they let on. He chooses to stay quiet. He’s anxious to avoid agitating the bird further. He still has a weapon, and Scar is rather fond of the idea of not finding himself on the other end of it again.

Silence falls over the two, the only sound coming from their steady footfalls meeting the sandy ground, and the whistle of wind through the caverns. Eventually, his worry about Grian shutting him out completely resurfaces, but he isn’t sure what to say.

“So… got a favourite animal?”

“You have an awful way of being chummy with your would-be murderer.” Grian titters.

“I wouldn't call you that.”

“Still.” he shrugs, unconvinced.

“I don't think you were trying to kill me. At least not the first time.”

Abruptly, Grian stills, his feathers bristling.

“And about today- I'm not dead, and you’re not in the process of killing me, see?” Scar carries on. Grian turns away sharply, but Scar is undeterred.

“You're a pretty unsuccessful murderer, if you are one. I've put myself in more danger on purpose than you’ve put me in on accident.” Scar barks out a laugh, but receives no response. Grian's face hides behind his cheek feathers and hair.

“You don't know me,” Grian replies flatly.

“But I'd like to.”

Scar tilts his head, stepping in front of the bird, trying to get a read on his face. They lock eyes only briefly. Grian’s eyes are wide, his brow furrowed, and his face contorted by a frown.

“Anddd- we have time-” Scar adds more gently, “You said you wanted to rest.”

“What if my kind of rest doesn't involve talking?” Grian retorts, tone still flat, but the slight lilt of amusement is unmistakable.

“Oh, well-”

Scar doesn’t get the chance to finish his thought. A shrill, distorted cry fills the sky above them.

Grian and Scar both turn on the spot, their heads snapping in the direction of the sound. Soaring above them is a colony of three familiar creatures. Bright green eyes lock onto them both.

“Are those-”

“Phantoms.” Grian finishes, his feathers standing on end, fluffing up reflexively.

“What are phantoms doing here?” Scar asks, searching Grian for any indication that he knows what’s going on, but the avian looks just as clueless. Phantoms shouldn’t be here. They are artificially manufactured creatures, used as surveillance drones and protection in big cities, or anywhere where the landowners are wealthy enough to afford them. Scar encountered many during his patrols in the capital of Vindicator territory. They definitely aren’t something you would find in the wilderness, let alone a desolate desert like this one. They don’t even count as wildlife, as they’re more robotic than organic. The last of the desert sun reflects off the metallic plating lining their backs as they twist and glide through the air. The bright lights of their eyes shine, harsh and cold, illuminating Scar and Grian with a green glow in the ever-darkening wasteland.

Grian grabs Scar's elbow and drags him towards the walls of the ravine.

“We need to hide!” He hisses. Scar, not arguing, follows him through the tighter passages of the caverns. Unfortunately, they don’t provide as much cover as they had hoped, the walls still far enough apart for the bat-like creatures to give chase. They dash into a covered tunnel, but they have already been spotted, the phantoms fly lower, circling.

As one of the creatures dives towards the entrance, Grian pushes Scar behind him and backs them both closer to the wall. Scar, taken aback by the sudden protectiveness, can only go along with it in a dumbfounded daze.

“Do you have a weapon on you?” Grian asks, quickly scanning him up and down.

Scar falters. “Uh- no.”

“What kind of Vindicator are you?” Grian raises his voice, pulling an expression somewhere between angry and amused.

“Hey! I didn't decide I wanted to be stranded without weapons- they've been taken.” Scar counters, a comically sad look on his face.

“What?” Genuine surprise plasters across Grian’s features. Another piercing shriek fills the air, interrupting him, as another phantom separates from the group and dives towards them.

Quickly, Grian turns back to face the danger. Spreading his wings out as far as they can go, he presses Scar into the sandy, stone wall. Scar splutters, feathers catching in his mouth. As delighted as he is that Grian is now deciding to protect him, Scar can’t help feeling defenceless as Grian takes their lives into his own hands.

“We are so screwed with one sword between us.” Scar complains hopelessly, pushing the feathers out of his face. The phantom barely misses them, metal slamming into soft rock with a clang, causing sand and debris to rain down over them. The creature flies back to regroup with the other two, hopefully with wounded pride. That is, assuming it’s even capable of feeling pride.

“It's also a gun,” Grian adds.

“It's also a gun!?!” Scar gasps, a plan formulating in his mind. “How!? Show me! A gun is way more useful!”

Utilising the advantage of being held so close to the avian, Scar reaches forward and grabs the sword out of its holster, unnoticed.

“No, that's a bad idea!” Grian cries as Scar ducks, slipping under Grian’s wing and sprinting ahead to the mouth of the cave.

As he raises the blue blade, Grian lets out a shrill yell. He lunges for Scar as the Vindicator inspects the weapon, prodding at the grooves for a button and thumping the hilt against his palm.

Scar clicks a button that looks like a trigger. The knife folds in on itself, clipping in place, and the blue blade shrinks as a portion of its energy is diverted to fill a small bar. That must signify the ammo, Scar hums to himself, pleased at this discovery.

"Don't shoot it!" Grian yells with surprising ferocity, but Scar can’t see an alternative. Grian reaches him, grabbing onto Scar’s injured shoulder. He bites down on his tongue, hard, to avoid flinching. Making use of his military training, he forces himself to push through the throbbing pain.

Grian quickly releases him, hissing in pain himself. Scar doesn’t take the time to find out what hurt the avian, instead scanning the phantoms as they twist in the air, preparing to dive again, excited that their prey has moved into the open. He aims, and fires.

The shot makes contact with a phantom just as it dives towards them, long metal claws spread wide and teeth bared as it shrieks. The bullet burrows into the soft, fleshy material on its lower jaw, embedding itself deep in the phantom's head. The creature's cry dies in its throat, its eyes flickering out. It tumbles to the ground, kicking up dust in front of Grian and Scar. Smoke billows out of the mouth of the creature, the bullet wound smouldering.

Scar hears a quiet “woah” from behind him.

“Ahah! Did you see that??” Scan grins, amazed that he actually hit it on his first try. Scar spins on the spot to face Grian, who blinks at him, mouth agape. Scar twirls the gun in his hand, the remaining blade shrinking as more power is diverted to refill the used ammo.

Grian huffs, regaining his composure, and scowls. “Well, I was looking straight at it, so yeah- and give me that!” He snatches his weapon back from Scar with a grunt.

The other two phantoms dive into the ravine. They move faster and more daringly, learning from the mistake of their fallen friend.

“Oh … oh no.” Scar whispers.

Grian unfolds the weapon, its blade noticeably smaller than its original size, and places it back into its holster. “See, I told you the gun is a bad idea! Ask before you waste someone's bullets!”

This time he makes a point of keeping his hand on its hilt, both to prevent Scar from trying to take it again, and to be ready to fend off the approaching phantoms if they get too close.

“There's only two now- I could just hit them again!” Scar argues, casting a panicked glance at the approaching creatures.

“That was pure luck- without bullets, I don’t have a blade, and without a blade, I'm without a weapon!” A dark tone infects Grian's words as he glares at Scar, who sighs defeatedly.

“Well, what else can we use? There's no other projectiles.” The phantoms scratch at the exit, waiting for either of them to get too close.

“I don't know, be creative with it!” Grian huffs hopelessly, his face taut with frustration.

“I could throw you.” Scar teases, eyeing up the shorter man to emphasize his joke. Grian just stares back at him with a deadpan expression, and Scar giggles to himself. Scar takes a small step towards the exit. Not too far, but it's enough that one of the phantoms spots them separate and focuses on him with a screech.

Grian shoves past Scar, who continues to giggle to himself, and reaches for the only other thing he has on him. Holding his helmet in his hand, he takes a full-bodied swing at the phantom clawing towards him, close enough to scrape against Grian’s arm. Metal cracks against metal as he hits the phantom, hard, and it’s flung back by the force. The creature rolls helplessly through the sand, metal plating creaking under the strain of the new dent. Grian inhales shakily, thankfully unharmed.

Scar lets out an alarmed cry, and Grian looks up in time to see the phantom regain its bearings. It shakes, sand flying off in every direction, and launches itself back into the air with a powerful flap of its wings. It circles a few times before swooping back down towards them, faster this time, its eyes blazing and its jaw wide and unhinged.

Grian panics. He makes an involuntary squawk and launches his helmet right at the injured phantom. The helmet collides with the phantom's head with a sickening crunch, and the phantom falls limply out of the air.

“Aha! I got it!” Grian shouts triumphantly. Scar cheers behind him, just as surprised that it worked.

Their celebrations are horribly timed. The final phantom wails and plummets towards them. They both throw themselves out of the way, only to watch it grab the helmet in its claws and retreat over the ravine walls, out of sight.

“Noooo!” Grian cries out, running hopelessly back into the ravine. He stretches his wing out, readying himself to take off after the phantom, but he hesitates. He decides against it, holding his head in his hands, groaning over the loss of his helmet.

“…. Well …at least it's gone now,” Scar says, walking up beside Grian, hoping to cheer him up a little. Grian just laughs, dejected.

Sighing, he looks up at the sky. The sun has almost entirely disappeared from view now, revealing a dark red sky. Grian yawns, stretching his arms over his head. He flinches as his wounded shoulder is pulled by the movement, and Scar yelps quietly to himself, his hand reaching for his own injured shoulder.

Grian turns to Scar, a tired look on his face. He eyes Scar’s jacket as he rubs at it absent-mindedly, the fabric stained from where Grian had stabbed him. Grian frowns, contemplating his next move.

He walks past Scar, his steps heavy on the sandy ground. Re-entering the cavern, he all but collapses onto the sandy ground. Exhaustion and pain catch up to him as the adrenaline from the fight wears off. Sand billows around him as Grian’s tail drags across the floor, curling around himself. He looks up at Scar, who hasn’t moved, hesitating over what to do while Grian makes himself comfortable.

“...Come here.” Grian instructs him, his expression softening.

“Okay?” Scar replies, and sits himself down next to the bird. Slumping against the wall, he lets out a sigh of relief, glad to finally be off his feet.

Looking at Grian, he expects him to move away, but the avian shuffles closer to him.

“Alright then, take off your jacket.” Grian taps Scar’s arm, directing him.

Scar complies, pulling his shirt over his head at the same time.

“Just your jacket!” Grian squawks, “You don't need-” he fumbles at Scar’s teasing grin.

“It's hot! Besides, it’s a perfect opportunity to show off my awesome pecs.” Scar flexes for added flare. The softness is gone from Grian’s face.

“I just need to get to your shoulder.”

“Oh- what are you doing?”

“Wound dressing, or it's gonna get infected.”

“You have healing supplies?” Scar raises an eyebrow.

Grian fixes Scar with a weird look. Of course he has healing supplies. He always has healing supplies. He was just hoping to save them for himself… Scar doesn’t need to know that, though.

“...Yea… I just- forgot.”

Digging into one of his trouser pockets, Grian pulls out a small box. He pulls open the latch, revealing a small collection of items inside. It’s nothing like the regeneration potions that the Vindicators are equipped with, but Scar recognises some small healing wipes and rolls of dressings.

Grian raises the wipes to clean up the now-dried blood. He inspects the wound— Scar’s lucky his blade didn’t go too deep or hit a bone. It just falls shy of being too wide to go without being stitched up. It still looks nasty though. Grian winces, looking up at Scar with an apologetic look. As gently as he can, he starts to clean the wound.

“Sorry about this… by the way.”

“It's alright.”

Grian carefully cleans and bandages Scar’s wound, while Scar sits and tries to think of jokes and bizarre questions to ask the avian. They never make it past his lips, though— he isn’t sure it’s a good idea when Grian is looking more and more guilty as he works, Grian’s gaze occasionally drifting to the scars covering the right side of his companion’s body. It isn’t hard for him to guess why they’re there. Scar doesn’t want to push Grian too hard on the subject in case he closes off from him again, and it’s awkward enough as it is.

Instead, Scar settles on a different, more genuine approach.

“You know, I forgive you.”

Grian's discomfort is immediate. Scar is close enough to watch as his feathers pin back against his head. The avian avoids Scar’s gaze, instead focusing solely on his wound. He knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“You shouldn't. That's not fair, I barely know you.” He frowns, his hands pausing over Scar’s shoulder.

“I know that! But, well, you looked a lot worse back then,” Scar explains, admiring the brightly coloured feathers covering Grian’s face and ears. He remembers how dull and grimy they looked two and a half years ago.

There’s a waiver in Grian's voice, a lump growing in his throat. “And I left you looking dead-”

“But it was an accident!” Scar corrects.

Grian takes in a sharp breath. Scar watches his tail flicking at his feet.

“What can I do to make you stop bringing it up?” Grian asks quietly, pushing unnecessarily hard against the dressing of Scar’s wound. Scar hisses, and Grian removes his hand immediately as if he had burnt himself.

With a muttered apology, Grian sighs, resigned, finally looking back up at Scar.

“...Okay. If we're gonna be travelling together, I'll make a deal with you.”

Scar sits up straighter, intrigued.

“For almost killing you… twice,” Grian elaborates, “I'll be indebted to you and will protect you until we escape this game.”

“Game?” Scar repeats, confused. Is this a game?

“Urh- trap-” Grian stutters, trying to cover up his choice of words. “I’ll help you get home, off this planet. It mostly- depends on-” he waffles on.

“You won't kill me?” Scar clarifies, briefly dropping the cheerful disposition he had so carefully applied.

“I mean… third time’s the charm-” Grian grins foolishly. He coughs out a laugh when Scar doesn't return the sentiment, instead pulling a concerned expression. “...No, I won't kill you, that was a joke.”

Scar mulls the idea over. He gasps at a realization. “So you’ll be my sidekick?”

“...No.”

“Driver? Sofa?” Scar asks, trying to think of the word.

“Chauffeur, and no.” Grian sits back. “As I was saying- you not bringing up that night again is also part of the deal.” His tone is serious, expression hardened with no hint of amusement. He stares right at Scar, his void-like eyes boring into him. Scar feels like he might get cursed by looking into his eyes for too long.

So naturally, he tests that.

“And you'll let me use your gun?”

“Nope.” Grian replies without hesitation.

“Oh, I mean gun sword.”

“You're pushing it.” Grian acknowledges, glaring at him.

“Okay. okay, deal.”

“Good.”

They shake on it. Long, metal talons meeting worn, gloved hands.

“Can I say one thing about that day?” Scar asks, pulling his hand back.

Grian stares at Scar.

“It's just a little thing.” Scar holds his fingers millimetres apart to emphasize his point.

Grian maintains his steady glare at him. Scar attempts to pull a sad puppy-dog face, earning himself a snort from the avian.

“Fine.” Grian groans, rolling his eyes.

“If it’s any help, I'm glad you look better than you did back then. Cooler, even. Not all beat up and soggy.” Scar says sweetly.

“That doesn't really help at all- for any reason-”

“No, I mean, like- your wings, they look all- fuller? Fluffy.” Scar adds, for lack of a better word. He watches as Grian’s face turns bright red. He doesn’t normally get described as ‘fluffy’.

“I- They're not pin feathers anymore- you mean.” He stammers, completely flustered.

“Oh- pin feathers?” Scar asks, curiously. He’s not too familiar with avian biology.

“It's like a waxy sheath that covers new feathers when they grow-” He cuts himself off, waving his hand as he stops the tangent.

“Anyway! We agreed not to bring it up!" He pouts, annoyed at how quickly he forgot his own rule.

Grian hastily finishes folding all the unused bandages back into their box, leaving a small pile of bloody gauze behind in the sand.

Scar stares at them, blinking slowly as he fends off his own adrenaline crash. Grian looks back at the Vindicator sympathetically.

“So, rest.” He offers.

“Rest.” Scar confirms absently.

“I'll be first watch.”

“You sure?” Scar looks over him. It had been Grian who first brought up the idea of resting, hours ago.

Grian just shrugs in response, turning away. “Yeah, I got this. You're the injured one.”

Not wanting to argue, Scar complies, shuffling down until he's lying across the sand. Grian quietly settles into a more comfortable position too, pulling his wings out in front of him. He runs his talons through the feathers, quickly preening the particularly dishevelled spots.

After a while, Grian peers back over at Scar, who is quietly snoring. He fell asleep remarkably quickly. His jacket is rolled up as a pillow— it doesn’t look particularly comfortable, but it’s not like they have any alternatives. Grian watches and waits, double-checking that Scar is fully asleep, slowly making noise with his feathered tail to test him.

Once he’s confident he won’t wake Scar, he turns his back to him and pulls back out his healing supplies.

Cautiously, he slips his sleeve over his shoulder, unbuckling his armour slightly. He gets as good of a look at his shoulder as he can. Blood clots the thick fabric, but thankfully, it must have helped to temporarily bandage the wound, preventing most of it from bleeding through. Not that it would have been easy to spot on the red fabric if it had. Grian winces as he tugs on the dried blood slightly. The wound looks exactly like Scar’s, albeit with more congealed blood. It was a good idea to get a closer look at Scar's injury, he thinks. This confirms his suspicions.

He sighs, reaching for the wipes and dressing, tending to his own hidden wounds until he can clip his armour back in place, the bandages hidden underneath. He frequently checks Scar’s status, who lies completely still, fast asleep.

He leans back against the walls of the cavern, wrapping his wings around himself for comfort. It’s not freezing temperatures, but the air has definitely cooled significantly since the sun dipped below the horizon. Even now the sky refuses to turn fully black, a soft orange glow shining from where the sun had disappeared, basking the world in a reddish hue.

His gaze falls on the sad, broken remains of the phantoms from earlier. He’s got a feeling they’re not going to be the only challenge put in place for them here. He’ll wake Scar up in an hour or so, so he can get his own opportunity to sleep through the rest of this short night.

For now, he sits, and watches.

#stareater au #life series au #grian #gtwscar #desertduo #cw violence #cw injury #cw blood #trafficblr

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