#Okay but who said “Yeah right” and who said “Absurd”?
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oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u
In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on.
In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution.
“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”
Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died.
(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)
He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne.
Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that.
Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?
She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately.
“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said.
“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”
Tori pouted some more.
“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?”
A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home.
“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”
Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”
“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”
Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”
“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”
“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”
“Deidara will love this,” Tori said.
“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly.
They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around.
He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm.
Hmm.
Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying.
Tori decided to change her strategy.
xXx
“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi.
“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”
Tori shook her head.
“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”
“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”
Neither did I, Tori thought.
She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay.
“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”
“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.”
Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her.
Oh well. She tried.
xXx
When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip.
He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers.
“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”
Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him.
“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly.
Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”
Tori stood.
“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”
She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age.
“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious.
Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?
“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap.
“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”
Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides.
“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”
“What?” Obito full-on squeaked.
He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him.
His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something.
Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him.
The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him.
Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge.
“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides.
“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her.
His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori.
He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips.
“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said.
Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his.
I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back.
Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain.
She broke the kiss first.
“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked.
It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot.
“For you? Always,” he replied.
She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that.
There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?
“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked.
Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.
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Maybe reading 55 Minutes wasn't completely a waste of time
#atsushi nakajima#ryūnosuke akutagawa#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd 55 minutes#mine#q.#Okay but who said “Yeah right” and who said “Absurd”?#I know it's likely Atsushi and Akutagawa in that order but the other way around sounds suitable too#Because Akutagawa feels like using irony more than Atsushi while Atsushi is always dead serious on. I hate that guy#sskk#Forgot the most important tag#The part that really sent me was “Why do I gotta be the third wheel”–#but all of sskk interactions are so endearing I couldn't help but keep a little context#“Atsushi effortlessly turned his head to the side and dodged it. // ‘I already know all your attacks’ ”. Uh#Fellas is it gay to know all of your swore enemy's attacks#01/05/2022
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1: the confession // series m.list
note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk
fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston
//
The library is your favourite place.
At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better.
You won’t have it this time.
No way. You have so much work to do!
"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter.
“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!”
“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”
“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”
“But then what if I need to throw up—”
“Then throw up.”
“... Jungkook will be there!”
You blink at him.
“So?”
Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”
His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming.
Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.
“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy.
Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”
Your eyes widen.
In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”
“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”
“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion.
Hobi rolls his eyes at you.
“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”
Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail.
He’s right.
You are dense.
But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?
“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”
“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you.
“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"
Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction.
“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”
“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly.
You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted.
Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you.
He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…
Wow…
“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.
“... H-hi.”
He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”
Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”
Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”
“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”
Hesitantly, you shake your head.
“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm.
If piss drunk, please return to ___.
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back.
“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”
Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi.
“She doesn’t wanna go.”
Hobi groans.
“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”
“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."
He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”
Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out.
If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook
(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3
(xxx) xxx-xxxx
For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number.
“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks.
“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”
“What? Why?”
Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”
Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”
You laugh.
“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”
Hobi turns to Jungkook.
Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”
With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you.
“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”
Your body stiffens.
“Do what?”
Jungkook eyes your chair distance.
“You moved away.”
What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch.
“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”
“I’m moving closer to you.”
“Why?”
“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”
“N-no!”
Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”
“N-no…”
“Now you do.”
For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?
Oh god.
“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?
“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone.
You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”
Jungkook doesn’t hear you well.
“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”
You stay silent and contemplate.
Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—
“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”
Then, you blurt it out.
“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.”
Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath.
He doesn’t deny it.
“I do have a crush on you.”
Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?
“W-what? You can’t j-just—”
Jungkook tilts his head and pouts.
“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs.
You hit his chest.
“This isn’t funny!”
“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”
“Hey! I like it here.”
“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”
“I… I thought you wanted to study.”
Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”
“... To study!”
“To be with you.”
You shut up.
No words, no thoughts, no feelings.
Okay…
Feelings. Lots of them.
“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."
You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you.
“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."
You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!
And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—
"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"
#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenario#jungkook x yn#jungkook uni au#jungkook fanfic#jungkook one shot#jungkook drabble series#bts scenario#bts fanfic#bts imagine#bts x yn
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Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple
@imbreonix
Prompt fill set #4
It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.
Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.
Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.
“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.
But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.
“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).
The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”
“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.
All in all it was a cheerful success.
It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.
“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.
That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.
“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.
“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”
“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”
“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.
John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.
“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”
“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.
John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”
“Sorry,” Danny whispered.
“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”
“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”
“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.
“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”
“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”
“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.
John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”
“Robin,” Batman called.
Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.
“Yes, B?”
“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”
“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”
Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.
“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.
“So worried,” Flash said.
“Hn,” Batman added.
“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.
-
“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.
Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.
“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.
John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”
Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.
“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.
It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”
No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.
“Nearly five years.”
John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”
“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”
“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.
John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.
“Yeah… yeah I am.”
---
AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.
If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.
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Ace: Ugh... Why do we have to look for MC?
Deuce: *is pumped up*
Ace: Hey, Deuce. Why do you look excited?
Deuce: Didn't Grim say that boss is working outside school? I wonder what kind of job they have.
Ace: Yeah. He did say that. But... *frowning a little* When did you start calling them "boss"?
Deuce: A few weeks ago. I requested to be taken under their guidance!
Ace: ...
Ace: So... Did they?
Deuce: N-No... They said that the idea was absurd...
Ace: Eh... Poor you. *then spotted them from a distance*
Ace: Isn't that them?
MC: *Cheka is sitting on their shoulder while playing with their hair*
Ace: Wait.
Deuce: That's... Cheka Kingscholar, right? What is he doing with them?
Cheka: I like you! Can't I hire you as my personal bodyguard?
MC: No.
Cheka: But you were so cool fighting the bad guys! Boom! Pow! Kick! Slam!
MC: Yeah, yeah. Who are your parents? Do you know their names?
Cheka: My dad's name is Falena Kingscholar! I'm sure you know him!
MC: Nah. Doesn't ring a bell.
Cheka: You don't know who my dad is?
MC: No.
Cheka: But everyone knows my dad!
MC: Well, not me.
Ace and Deuce: MC!/Boss! *running towards them*
MC and Cheka: ...
MC: What?
Ace: You're with the future heir of Sunset Savannah!
Deuce: Cheka Kingscholar!
MC: Huh. Okay. So what?
Ace: And the headmage is also looking for you!
MC: *clicks their tongue* Great. Now my day is really ruined.
Cheka: Don't be mad... I can give you money... *sad pout*
MC: Nevermind. Let's go.
The royal guards: We humbly apologize for our failure to properly safeguard you, Your Highness!
MC: *doesn't look amused*
Cheka: *still sitting on their shoulder* It's alright! I'm safe because MC came to my rescue!
MC: Ah, yes. Before I forget. Crowley.
Crowley: Yes?
MC: You were looking for me?
Crowley: Yes. Well... I was about to ask you to look for Prince Cheka because he had gone missing. I didn't expect that you had found him before I could even tell you.
MC: Tch. How are you going to compensate me for this? I missed an appointment. Mind you.
The royal guard: We're more than glad to give you a reward for saving our prince.
Cheka: Make them my personal bodyguard!
MC: I already said no to that.
The royal guards: ...
Crowley: Um... *whispers* MC? That's not how you treat a royal.
MC: Do I look like I care? And also, where's this kid's dad? Let me punch him. Freaking moron not teaching his child not to go with strangers.
The royal guards: ...
Leona: *laughs* What? Deserves him right!
Ruggie: Yeah... But MC is basically disrespecting a royalty.
Leona: Huh. They sure have guts. By the way, is Cheka still with them?
Ruggie: Yeah. He's refusing to go home.
Leona: So he's staying in Ramshackle right now? Nice. Normally, he would go straight here just to bother me.
Ruggie: Yeah... About that. I think besides from convincing them to be his personal bodyguard, he also wants them to date you.
Leona: ...
Leona: What?
Ruggie: Shyeheehee! He wants to set the two of you up!
Leona: Like hell! They're not my type!
Cheka and Grim: *fighting over MC*
Grim: I'm not giving up my hench-human!
Cheka: Nooooo! I want them to be my bodyguard!
MC: *getting pulled on each arm*
MC: Just split me in half. The hell.
#twisted wonderland#twst mc#twst ace#twst deuce#twst cheka#twst crowley#twst leona#twst ruggie#twst grim#the affable delinquent
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Treacle Tart | Hobie Brown
SUMMARY: Underneath the mask, his eyes widened. Hobie wasn’t often surprised. His abilities would ease the pain quicker than most, but you were right; a hospital would help. But his abilities, the parts that felt like instinct, took over. The threat was taken care of, and he swung and swung, furthering himself from the aftermath only to find himself seeking you out in the end.
PAIRING: Hobie Brown x gn!reader
WORD COUNT:1.5K
WARNINGS: mentions of injuries, canon-typical things, cockney slang coming from an American, established pining, a smooch, etc.
A/N: I just say the new movie and wrote this in one sitting, so mind the errors and lack of coherency. This is ENTIRELY inspired by the lovely @strangesem‘s headcanons (find here). Enjoy. Slang used: Day’s a-dawning - Morning / Duck and dive - hide / Treacle Tart - sweetheart
It always happened late into the night. Oftentimes, if you tried hard enough, you could see the sun starting to rise above the skyline. Yet, when you squinted what was before you, the silhouette worked out to be the vigilante that gravitated towards you.
“Spider-Man—” You caught your words, seeing how he leaned against the windowsill he crawled through. His breathing was ragged and wet, representing the severity he was trying to hide. “Are you okay?”
“Fine, yeah, nothing to worry ‘bout, love—” He winced, pausing when he attempted to stand at his full height. “Just a, just a—” His usual humor was cut off by a sharp intake of breath. “I’ll be—
“No…” You shook your head, repeating yourself a few times as he attempted to push past you. Normally, he sought you with scratches, things that hadn’t always warranted things outside a pre-supplied med kit. This, though, this was out of your depth.
“Day’s a-dawning, I don’t have time to pop into hospital.” The cockney slang made you frown, and it deepened as he tried to push past you. “You know I have to duck and dive.”
“No—You can’t talk your way out of this one.” Your tone was firm, loud—different. It blocked him physically from moving past the doorway.
Underneath the mask, his eyes widened. Hobie wasn’t often surprised. His abilities would ease the pain quicker than most, but you were right; a hospital would help. But his abilities, the parts that felt like instinct, took over. The threat was taken care of, and he swung and swung, furthering himself from the aftermath only to find himself seeking you out in the end.
As strong as he tried to be, detach himself from genuine connections, you were like a magnet. You were quiet; really quiet. You’d mumbled your thank you’s, whispered apologies, and generally went out of your way not to interact with people as a whole. It was just what you preferred, how you worked. The simplicity of it, the gentleness and softness of your presence, was what drew Hobie in and what had made him return. His lifestyle was loud, he thrived in it. But to find something, someone—you—that shared likes and dislikes but in your own way was alluring.
Even now, for the man who always knew what to say, he felt at a loss for words. Blood was on your door frame, but it didn’t matter with the way Spider-Man slinked down. He slouched into his shoulder, out of pain or desire; you weren’t sure.
“...I don’t have things here for....” You pointed to the deep gash on his arm. Selfishly, you used his wounds as a buffer from the warmth that bloomed from the proximity. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“But I like you so much better.” Hobie was never shy with compliments. It was another thing simple to him; he liked what he liked and didn’t what he didn’t. You picked up on that quickly. Yet, it hadn’t quite hit you the way it was now.
You hadn’t wanted to discredit yourself, but if you said it aloud, you knew it would sound absurd. There he was the Spider-Man, standing in front of you. He was bleeding a lot, breath rough due to no doubt broken bones. Yet, his presence alone told you that his first thought was you. The warmth in your chest carried to the tips of your fingers at the realization. You could feel your hands starting to shake with nerves as you fiddled with them.
��You’re staring.” The shit-eating grin could be felt, practically burning through his mask. You envied his composure despite his state.
So with a stutter of an apology, and after stammering around for a moment, you finally accepted the job that you felt unqualified for. You could tell the disinfectant stung with every flinch Hobie offered you. You grimaced with guilt, but a part of you was relieved he was still breathing.
“Thought you were supposed to be nicer than them nurses.” He squirmed with discomfort. You knew he used humor to deflect, but you appreciated his demeanor. It calmed you as you continued to dress his wounds.
You never asked about the trouble he found himself in the middle of. It wasn’t your business, and if you truly were curious, you could turn on the news. But again, this was different, more serious. This was the first time you truly felt worried.
It caused you to focus intently on cleaning his wounds. It felt like the only thing you could possibly control. You took your time intentionally, making sure that not only the details of it were secure but that you could have a moment to revel in his tangible life.
Once finished, you both remained still. His eyes burned your skin, but you refused to look up when asking, “That’s everywhere, right? I didn’t miss something?”
Without words, he pulled at his mask, needing the air to see you directly. Your eyes flicked up to be met with deep brown ones. The piercings weren’t the shock, the desire on his expression was. He looked at you with such intent, as if every moment was planned for despite its incredible impulsivity.
“Hobie.” He introduced himself, smirk settling naturally. You blinked hard, words unable to form for a few beats. Hobie revealed himself easily, readily. It felt as though he held onto it prior only to tease you.
“You’re not supposed to tell me that.” You whispered, shock still dictating your moves.
“Nah–You know I do what I’m not supposed to.” He drawled, accent seemingly thicker. Through your consistent stare, Hobie could see the questions filtering through your eyes. He would answer them all, but he sought more of your comfort.
Despite his rough exterior and pointed words, he was soft. Especially as he traced your face with his eyes only to follow the pattern with the pads of his fingers. The night was rough, he hated to admit it, but it was. Things got out of hand but were handled.
Moments like those reminded him that he was someone under the mask. He was more than the Spider-Man. He stood for things beyond that and moments like this, moments involving you, helped ground him in his beliefs.
Mimicking the softness you offered him, he reached for your chin with a gentle hold. “I’m thinking I’m overdue for a thank you.”
“Oh?” You breathed out your words, feeling how they fanned across Hobie’s face the way his had. The draw to each other was simultaneous and had gone relatively unnoticed.
“Mhmm...” He hummed, head tilting to get a good look at you. He was memorizing the moment, the same way you had.
There was no burning, all-consuming feeling that threatened to swallow you whole. Rather, it was steady, welcomed. It had been in the making from the first time he saved you. You had apologized to him then, as if saving you from a robber had inconvenienced him. Your kindness permeated the interaction and Hobie desired more.
The joking, the teasing, all of it, was apart of an expected outcome. He resisted due to his position, wanting to keep you out of danger, to feel indifferent. But it was an injustice in itself to even think of doing that to you.
You felt silly at first, caring so deeply for someone behind a mask. The nights he didn’t come stumbling in to talk your ear off about a new album, you thought on the relationship. You assured yourself you were a friend. A friend that was there for the occasional patch up because in what reality would a superhero of all things would compromise that.
The reasoning, on either part, was to reflect so-called responsibility, but it only reflected what you both wanted. So to mix your breath, lean in close to have knees touch, it felt...good. It felt right. Your shyness was still there, but channeled in a way of excitement.
“You let me do this, and I’ll never stop.” He whispered along your lips. He needed to know he wasn’t crossing any boundaries while placing his feelings on the line.
Neither could remember how your faces gravitated towards each other, but it was most likely due to how Hobie’s thumb was to your lip, an eye trained to where he'd just traced. It was a preface to how your lips connected: quiet and barely there, a tender peck as if to soothe you mixed with something innocent. Then he pecked you once more slightly less tentative and less friendly. It wasn't until the third you melted into his touch, reciprocating the same level if not more emotion.
His thumbs brushed over your temple, and you leaned into the kiss Hobie deepened. The action made your chest heat, so forthright, as though he didn’t truly understand the emotions he invoked. Hobie took a bit of pleasure in it that maybe you’re just as affected by him as he was by you. It wasn’t a new relationship by any means, but it was, at the same time.
When you pull away, he looks slightly dazed, and you commit the sight of him like this to memory, the harshness of life nowhere to be found. “...Thank you.”
#q#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown#spider punk#hobie brown fluff#hobie brown angst#hobie brown x gn!reader#spiderman across the spiderverse
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As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Three
Lines are beginning to blur between you and Anakin.
◂ chapter two ▸ chapter four
rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.2k | read on ao3
warnings: alcohol, age-gaps, body image insecurities (anakin), sexual fantasies/content, swearing, a little bit of mean anakin
“Tell me everything! Is he everything you thought he’d be? Totally dreamy? All stoic and boss-like? Oh, what does he smell like? Expensive?”
Your best friend has barely taken off her shoes before bombarding you with questions about your first day working for Anakin Skywalker. You give her a welcoming hug before taking her hand and leading her into the living room. “Come on, I’ve already opened a bottle of wine.”
Two empty glasses stand next to a middle-shelf Pinot Gris on your coffee table. Sabine takes it upon herself to pour the wine and pulls the granny square blanket from the back of your couch over her lap. She looks like she’s settling in for a bedtime story.
“Okay, I’m ready. Lay it on me.”
You situate yourself on the opposite end of the couch and slip your legs under the blanket. You take a small sip of wine before attempting to answer any of Sabine’s questions. Your first day at Skywalker Enterprises went by in a blur. Meeting your boss was not at all how you imagined it would go. It was all so clumsy. Anakin seemed more like an embarrassed school boy than the confident CEO you were expecting. He looked like he saw a ghost when he saw you sitting behind your desk. And then, in the car on the way to his house, he addressed your butt.
“Let me know if your butt gets too toasty,” he said. It was so incredibly adorable because you could tell he let a little bit of his guard down when he said it. Obviously, he didn’t mean to. Because no sensible boss should talk about his assistant’s butt. Especially not when you’ve only just met each other. You found it endearing.
But then, after the initial awkwardness faded and you continued talking to each other throughout the day, there was a sense of familiarity about him. The structure of his sentences when he spoke reminded you of someone. You’re just not sure who.
“He’s not really what I thought he’d be like.”
“How so?” Sabine asks.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, unable to explain the stirring of feelings and emotions in your chest. “He’s… he was sort of awkward when we first met. Like, stuttering and fumbling over his words. Almost as if I made him nervous.”
Sabine nods slowly with her eyes narrowed. “Go on…”
“Well, that’s crazy, right? The fact that I could’ve made him nervous?”
“Not necessarily. Look at you. You didn’t have a successful OnlyFans page for nothing.”
“Yeah, but he’s in his forties,” you emphasize. You remind yourself of his age nearly every minute to remember how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your boss. Applying for the job was such a bad idea. What made you think you wouldn’t be attracted to him when you saw him in person? Your cheeks get hot as you think about him rounding the car to open your door once you got back to the office after dropping off his son’s pants at school. It was just a common courtesy, not a sign of interest. But damn, was it nice to be on the reciprocating end of something gentlemanly.
“And he’s a dad! I shouldn’t be making dads nervous,” you add. “I mean, I saw a picture of his wife at his house. She was stunning. Stunning, Sabine. High cheekbones, a nice straight nose, a gorgeous smile…”
“Wait, he’s married?!” Sabine sets down her glass.
“Widowed.”
“Oh,” Sabine says sadly. Then her eyebrows perk up. “Oh.”
“Don’t,” you hold up your finger. “Don’t give me that look. He’s my boss.”
“But you like him,” Sabine sings. “And from what it sounds like, he likes you too.”
You cannot let Sabine put the idea of Anakin Skywalker, engineering millionaire, having a measly little crush on you. Because it’s absolutely absurd. He’s him and you’re… you’re just a girl who was uploading videos of herself masturbating for money just last week. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work. It’s empowered you in so many ways, but it was time to find something a bit more steady and reliable. And less physically taxing, to be perfectly honest.
“Sabine, be serious. I-” your phone pings with a distinct tone that makes you pause.
New Message from Skyguy81
“Oh, my God,” you say.
“What?” Sabine asks.
“It’s Sky,” you answer her while opening the message.
Sabine eagerly crawls on top of you to peer at your screen. “Sky as in Rich Guy Sky? Did you upload a new video or something? What did he say?”
“No,” you shake your head. “I haven’t uploaded anything since last Thursday. Get off of me so I can read his message.”
Sabine retreats to her side of the couch as you begin reading to her.
“I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.” Your tongue feels like sandpaper and your heart is in the bottom of your throat.
“Oh, shit!” Sabine exclaims. “You’ve got this boy whipped! Honestly, you should just keep making videos for him. He was your best tipper, anyway.”
“He’s never… he’s never messaged me out of the blue before.” You chug down the last of your wine, thinking you may need some liquid courage for whatever conversation is about to unfold between you and Sky.
“He wants you,” Sabine says simply. “Make it happen.”
“I can’t just meet up with someone from OnlyFans. It’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen.”
Sabine rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so cynical.”
“I’m not being cynical, I’m being logical,” you counter. You’d be foolish to risk your life by meeting up with Skyguy81. No matter how nice and genuine he seems over private messages. No matter how much money he has tipped you. There is no guarantee he’s not absolutely creepy and going to kidnap you.
Okay, so maybe you watch too much true crime. That’s why you have to balance it out with The Great British Bake Off.
“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Sabine finishes her wine, “you never know. He could be the love of your life.”
You’re quiet as you contemplate the love of your life. Sabine is the romantic. You’re the realist. You have a hard time believing there’s one person in the world who you’re destined to be with. How do you explain Anakin losing his wife? Was she the love of his life? Is he not supposed to move on and potentially find happiness with someone else? None of it makes sense to you and it’s quite possibly because you’ve never been in love.
And the image of the person who you might like the opportunity to love is entirely unavailable.
.
.
.
It’s times like tonight when Anakin wishes he didn’t raise such inquisitive, curious children. Leia is simply chock-full of questions about her dad’s new assistant. When do they get to meet her? Soon. Is she old like Auntie Dorothy? No. Does she like vintage Disney movies? (Anything before 2010 is “vintage” to Leia). I don’t know.
Luke, on the other hand, was very disappointed to learn that you were in the car while his dad dropped off a new pair of pants. “You made her wait in the car like a dog?”
Anakin snorts. “I wouldn’t quite say like a dog, Luke. I was gone for less than five minutes.”
“Did you at least roll down the window? So she could have fresh air?” Leia joins in on the comical idea of their dad leaving his assistant in his car like a pet.
“That’s enough out of you two,” Anakin says through a grin. These 9 year olds, man. What is he going to do with them?
Luke and Leia nod, going back to stabbing their dumplings with their chopsticks.
“I have one last question.” Leia watches her dumpling precariously dangle on the edge of her chopstick.
“What is that, princess?” Anakin asks.
“Is she pretty?”
Anakin’s pulse is going to burst. It’s a simple question- one that always seems to be on the tip of Leia’s tongue. She wants a woman figure in her life. Soon, she’ll be at the age that is easier to navigate with a maternal presence. Anakin is really not equipped to talk her through menstrual cycles.
But it’s the nature of who his new assistant is that makes him feel so exposed. He can’t very well tell his children you’re the most beautiful woman he’s seen since his wife. And he definitely can’t tell them that you’ve been in his life not since this morning, but since three years ago when he downloaded OnlyFans.
Anakin cleans the corners of his mouth with his napkin while he formulates an appropriate response. He’s kept his answers short and simple because if he thinks about you for too long, your figure seeps into his vision, your voice burns in his ears, and he’s unable to focus.
He feels like such a sleaze for getting hard just by thinking about you. You are so much more than a sexual object. And trust him, he can’t wait to learn about all that makes you you. But morals be damned. He wants you desperately.
“Yes, Leia. She’s quite pretty,” Anakin finally answers.
Leia can’t help but dance excitedly in her seat. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I could’ve met her today,” Luke mumbles. “If Dad hadn’t locked her up in the car.”
Anakin is laughing now. “I have a feeling you are going to be bringing this up for a while.”
After dinner, the kids clear the dishes and load what they can into the dishwasher. Meanwhile, Anakin does something either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
.
.
.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I thought about you at work today. I thought about you more than I would like to admit. You have no idea what you do to me, Honey. No idea what I would do to you.
Now being 10 pm, it’s been 3 hours since Anakin— or rather, Skyguy81— sent you that message.
And you still haven’t replied. But you read it.
And the fact that you’ve read the message but decided not to reply makes Anakin feel so incredibly foolish. What was he thinking? What was he expecting from you? More meaningless flirting?
Except now it’s not meaningless for him. He’s not sure if it was ever meaningless. But now that he knows who the woman behind HoneySuckle is, it’s completely different. You have a name— which he had to look up in employment records because he’s convinced he actually blacked out when you introduced yourself. You have passions and interests, favorite snacks, and a go-to karaoke song. He wants to know it all.
And even though he’s going to see you tomorrow, he couldn’t resist the urge to message you on OnlyFans. But since you’ve opted not to reply to him, he’s now wallowing like a teenage boy.
Ridiculous. He’s better than this, goddamnit!
Finally deciding to stop staring at his phone, Anakin strips down to take a shower. It’s hard for him not to feel disappointed when he looks at himself in the mirror. Arguably, he’s still in great shape. He lifts weights at the gym at least twice a week, sometimes three if he has the time. He doesn’t have a beer belly, which he considers an accomplishment at his age. But he does have some extra fat around his love handles. He has sun spots on his shoulders from the countless pool days when the twins were younger. And then there are the undeniable lines around his eyes, which are incredibly prominent when he smiles.
Anakin has never felt particularly insecure about his image before. He’s accepted that his body is not the same 20 year old body it once was. But there’s a new nagging insecurity in the back of his mind.
Is it good enough for you?
Anakin turns on the water in the shower, needing to wash away all delusions of you and him ever getting together. As soon as he steps one foot on the tile, his phone buzzes. He grabs his phone off of the counter and his heart rate immediately ticks up.
Hi Sky, I’m sorry for the delay. I had a friend over. Here’s a special little something for you ;)
Attached is a picture of you on your bed, sitting on your heels with the thin straps of your panties pulled over your hips. You’re lifting an oversized t-shirt above your breasts, which also expertly hides your face. Right. Because you don’t know that he knows who you are.
Still, the picture was worth the wait. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cock is already standing upright, the tip pressing against his lower abdomen. He focuses on your hard nipples, picturing himself enclosing his mouth around one of your mounds. He’s rolling his tongue over your bud while massaging your other breast. Your hands are in his hair and you’re anything but silent. You’re moaning his name, begging for more, whining for him to put his cock inside of you.
Anakin is too preoccupied to even reply to you. He gets himself under the steady stream of hot water and grabs the base of his length. Now he’s picturing you on top of him, tits bouncing in his face while you fuck yourself on his cock.
“Mmm, yes! Anakin, please. Feels so good.”
Your hands are pressed against his strong chest for support. He loves you like this— in control but still pathetically needy for his dick. “How much do you love it?” he asks. “Tell me how much you love this cock inside of you.”
You throw your head back when he slaps both of your ass cheeks. He grabs onto your flesh firmly and your cunt clamps around him while you proclaim it to be the best feeling in the world. “I love it so much, Ani. Nobody's cock feels as good as yours.”
“Damn right,” Anakin grits. He holds your chin with a strong hand, forcing you to look at him. “This pussy is mine. You understand that?”
“Yes, sir,” you moan as Anakin bucks his hips up, hitting deep inside of you. “Only yours.”
“Yes, sir,” huh? That’s a new kink unlocked. Anakin presses a palm on the shower wall to steady himself as he cums. It’s anything from pretty. It happens suddenly and quickly, thanks to the vivid images he was creating in his mind. He bites down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning too loudly. But your name is rolling off of his tongue effortlessly. As if it’s always been in the recesses of his mind, just waiting to be said intimately and passionately.
He tries to list off the hundreds of reasons why he should never utter your name in a less than professional manner while shampooing his hair.
You’re his assistant.
You’re significantly younger than him.
The power imbalance (see 1 and 2).
That’s all he can come up with for now and it’s enough. Nothing good will come out of pining for you and fantasizing about you. It still doesn’t stop him from messaging you back after he gets out of the shower and settles in bed.
Now I feel guilty for not responding sooner. Thank you for the spectacular photo. It is unfortunate that I had to take matters into my own, ahem, hands. I would have much preferred to have your help.
You flatter me, Sky. Do I really get you that worked up?
Impossibly so.
When you said you thought about me at work… What exactly did you mean?
To be perfectly blunt, you were bent over a desk with your skirt pushed over your ass. I was fucking you well and hard, with my name being the only thing falling from your pretty lips.
Anakin lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. Why does he keep putting himself in situations that result in an erection? He just needs to have a good fuck. Get it out of his system. Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. But under no circumstances will it be with you.
I think I’d like that very much.
Goddamnit. Anakin needs to stop while he’s ahead. While he’s not succumbing to jerking off for a second time tonight. This was a disastrous idea. Because now when he sees you at work tomorrow, he’s going to think about how you would like for him to fuck you over your desk. Except you don’t actually know that it’s him who wants to fuck you over your desk.
Maybe in another life.
Anakin leaves it at that. He puts his phone on do not disturb and attempts to get some reading in before going to sleep. He also prays for G-rated dreams.
.
.
.
The morning fog of late November in Northern California is still hanging in the air when you get to work at 8 am. Anakin won’t be in until he drops off Luke and Leia which means he should arrive around the same time he did yesterday. It gives you an hour to go through voicemails, reply to emails, and brew a pot of coffee in the breakroom.
Ben Kenobi arrives shortly after you, sharply dressed in dark blue slacks, caramel leather Oxfords, and a white collared shirt with small polka dots that match the color of his pants.
“Good morning, Mr. Kenobi,” you greet.
“Please, call me Ben. No need for formalities around here,” Ben replies. “You’ll soon see we operate very much like a family. There will be shouting and likely some name calling, but it’s all in the name of love for engineering and innovation.”
“Got it,” you nod. “It’s just that Dorothy always called Mr. Skywalker by, well, Mr. Skywalker. And yesterday he didn’t tell me to call him otherwise.”
Ben strokes his nicely groomed beard. “Interesting. Well, I suppose you can continue to address him as such until he tells you to call him Anakin. Which I’m sure he’ll do this morning when he gets in. Have you brewed the coffee yet?”
“Not yet.” you stand. “I wanted to check messages first, but coffee is next on the list.”
“Excellent.” Ben follows you into the breakroom. “How are you enjoying your time here?”
“Well, it’s only been a day,” you remind him with a light lilt to your voice. “But it’s been good! Everyone I’ve met is super friendly.”
Ben leans back against the counter, crossing his ankles and arms over his chest. “And you and Anakin? You two getting along? He’s not giving you too much trouble, is he?”
You nearly spill the coffee grounds as you bring the spoon up from the container to the machine. “No!” you say a little too loudly. “I mean, no. He’s been very nice. Quiet, but nice.”
“Anakin? Quiet?” Ben almost laughs. “I’ve never heard that word used to describe Anakin before.”
“Oh.” you continue scooping grounds into the machine. How many spoonfuls are you supposed to put in? You’ve lost count. Maybe two more for good measure. You’d rather make the coffee too strong than too weak. Nothing is worse than weak coffee. “Maybe I caught him on an off day. He did seem a little weird when he brought me to his house. And then I sort of told him off in the car…”
This gets Ben away from the counter and walking over to you. “You did what?”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t tell him off per se. I just asked him to give me a chance. It seemed like he’d already made a decision about me and we’d only known each other for a couple of hours.”
“Good for you,” Ben replies. “Anakin is headstrong but he can be reasoned with. If the reason is worth being reasoned over.”
“Am I?” you ask. “Worth being reasoned over?”
Ben appears to give you a once over and then nods once. “Yes, I’d say so.”
“Thanks…” you say with uncertainty. Ben takes himself and his briefcase to his office, which is the next door over from Anakin’s. He leaves you alone in the breakroom with a dozen questions. Was Ben assessing your appearance? Surely not for himself. He’s insanely in love with his wife— the mayor. Then who for? Anakin? No. No way.
The coffee has begun to brew— the nutty notes of Philz Philtered Soul bringing you back to your college days. There’s one in walking distance from campus and you and Sabine spent every finals week there chugging back Mint Mojitos and Mocha Tesoras.
Those days were not that long ago for you. For Anakin, on the other hand…
You shake your head, effectively shaking thoughts of Anakin taking any interest in you away. And why would he have an interest in you? He’s bound to have a list of more age-appropriate women he can bring home to his children.
Stop thinking about it.
But it’s so damn hard not to. A forbidden office romance with your boss who’s 20 years your senior? Yeah, it’s cliché and sort of sounds like the plot to a porno but it’s sort of fun, too. As long as you keep yourself in check, what’s the harm in pretending like he’s secretly in love with you and wants to take you home?
.
.
.
When Anakin gets into the office, he doesn’t even greet you before saying, “Call Rose. Tell her to come as soon as possible.”
So much for him being nice yesterday. Now he won’t even look at you. “Who’s Rose? What- what is the appointment for?”
“You don’t need to know what it’s for,” Anakin snaps. “Just find Rose in your little phone book, call her, and tell her I need to see her immediately.”
“Y-yes, sir,” you say while thumbing through the contacts Dorothy left behind for you. Without another word, Anakin goes into his office and slams the door.
What the hell was that about? That was once again another awkward morning of Anakin slamming his office door after talking to you. You thought you left work on good terms yesterday. What changed?
.
.
.
Rose Montgomery arrives 47 minutes after you call her. You hear her Louboutins clicking on the floor before you see her. Your eyes trail up from her long legs to her slim waist and perky boobs until you reach her face. Good Lord. She is strikingly beautiful. Her fiery red hair falls in loose curls over her shoulders. As she walks closer to your desk, you are drawn to her perfectly round green eyes. She’s like the real-deal Jolene from Dolly Parton’s hit song. Seriously, did she grow up being called Jolene solely based on her looks?
“Aw, look at you,” Rose smiles down at you. “You must be the new Dorothy.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.”
Uh… What the hell are you supposed to say to that? “I’ll let Mr. Skywalker know you’re here.”
“No need,” Rose informs. “I’ll let myself in.” She begins to walk away with an extra sway to her hips. You want to hate her but she’s got such an air of confidence that you actually want to be a little more like her.
“Oh, um, actually I’m not sure about that,” you come out from behind your desk. “He seems to be in a mood so I don’t want you barging in his office to make it worse.”
Rose turns on her heels and purses her lips. “Actually, sweetheart, I’ve known him longer than you and this isn’t my first ‘appointment’ with him. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to go make his mood a little better.”
Okay. Now you hate her. With that, Rose leaves you standing outside of Anakin’s office with a dumbfounded look on your face. Is that… is she… a booty call?
All of the insinuations are there; from the air quotes around “appointment” to the way she said she’ll make Anakin’s mood better. Coupled with her outstanding looks, you’ve decided that Rose Montgomery is a friend with benefits of Anakin Skywalker. You trudge back to your desk and do your absolute best not to think about what’s happening behind your boss’s door.
.
.
.
At the sound of his door opening, Anakin quickly closes his computer tab and turns off the monitor. He pulls his headphones off of his head and puts them in the drawer.
Rose is none the wiser as she drops her Birkin bag on the table beside the chaise. “Ugh, who is that child you have sitting behind Dorothy’s desk?”
“My new assistant,” Anakin answers through a dry throat. Rose sits herself on his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders. She begins playing with the ends of his curls, which normally, he would enjoy. But he really just wants to get this over with. He draws down the zipper of her black dress while she kisses along his jaw.
“She seems incompetent,” Rose says between kisses. “What is she? Like, 15?”
Anakin twirls Rose’s hair around his fist and yanks her face away from his. This makes her gasp with pleasure, and despite his annoyance, he loves the reaction he gets from her. “I didn’t fucking ask you here for your opinion on her. Do not talk about her again. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Rose breathes. “Where do you want me?”
“On your knees.”
.
.
.
When Rose leaves Anakin’s office, you can absolutely tell she and Anakin had sex. Did she even bother looking in the mirror or her phone camera before coming out? She avoids looking in your direction at all costs and knowing how awkward those walks of shame can be after a one night stand, you decide not to watch her walk to the elevator.
You busy yourself in a filing cabinet until you hear Anakin’s door open again. You tell yourself not to look up because if you look up at him you might actually burst into tears. Which makes absolutely no sense to you but you feel that stinging in your nose and you’re trying to think of the time you got Panini because at least those were happy tears.
Anakin says your name.
Damnit. Get it together. You take a deep breath and plaster on a smile. At least he doesn’t look like he just had sex. His hair is combed back the same way it was when he walked in and his clothes are wrinkle free. “Yes, Mr. Skywalker?”
“Would you like to go get lunch?”
It’s only 10:45 but of course, he’d be hungry after having sex. “Oh, sure. What can I get you?”
“I meant me.”
You furrow your brows together. “Sorry?”
“I mean us. You and me, together. Fuck,” Anakin mumbles that last part. It’s like he loses the part of his brain that forms proper sentences when he looks at you. Think back to the car, Anakin. Things weren’t so bad in the car. Wait, yes they were. He told you to tell him if your butt got too toasty.
You can’t help but smile as you start to see the Anakin who let his guard down in the car. He’s nothing like the Anakin who walked into the office this morning. “You want me to get lunch with you?”
“Yes. If you would like.”
You grab your thrifted black leather bag and your coat off of the back of your chair. “I think I’d like that very much.”
I think I’d like that very much.
That is the second time you’ve said that to Anakin.
On the drive to the farm to table restaurant he suggested, he thinks about telling you the truth. That he’s Skyguy81 and you’ve been messaging each other for three years. Oh, and that he’s seen you naked.
He weighs all of the pros and cons and all of the ways the situation could play out if he tells you. He decides the only way it’s going to end is with you quitting and never wanting to see him again. Telling you who he is is out of the question.
Your face is buried in the menu, effectively blocking you from looking at Anakin. Your nerves are irritably on fire as you sit knee to knee with your boss. You go out to lunch with someone to talk. To get to know them. But you have no idea what to talk about with him. Either he’s super blunt or incredibly awkward and you don’t know what to make of it.
Could Sabine be right? Does he have a crush on you? Do men in their forties even get crushes?
“You are awfully quiet behind there,” Anakin finally says. “Are you hiding from me?”
You slam your menu down nervously. “What? Oh, no. Just… looking at all of the options.”
“I’m kidding,” Anakin chuckles. “If it helps, Leia likes the poke rice bowl. Luke likes the flatbread with artichokes. And I normally just get a burger.”
“Wow, a 9 year old who likes poke? You’ve got some interesting kids.”
“You have no idea,” Anakin replies bashfully. He really calms down when he talks about his kids. Maybe that’s your key to him. Keep him talking about his kids.
“Well, I think I’ll try Leia’s favorite. Do your kids enjoy trying different types of food?”
Anakin gives you a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose so. I didn’t raise them to be picky eaters. They eat what I eat. We had dumplings last night. They’re shit at using chopsticks but it makes for an entertaining meal.”
You laugh along with him, feeling yourself relax the more you see Anakin relax. “I love dumplings!”
“Yeah? We’ll have to have you over some time for dumplings, then.” Anakin doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until it’s hanging between you, awaiting your response.
“That would be nice,” you admit. “I can’t wait to meet them. Of course, you know… if they even want to meet me.”
“Are you kidding? Luke almost threw a fit over me leaving you in the car yesterday. And Leia… well, Leia gets excited about any new woman in my life. I mean, not that you’re my new woman, just you know, in terms of you being Dorothy’s replacement and-”
You place your hand over Anakin’s without a second thought. And it’s more than just skin on skin. It’s electric. You resist the urge to pull away because the overwhelming feeling almost keeps you from saying: “It’s fine, Mr. Skywalker. I get what you mean.”
Anakin is looking down at your hands and you wonder if he feels it too. Or if it’s entirely inappropriate to put your hand on his and he’s going to go back to being standoffish. You remove your hand from his and sit on it.
“You don’t have to call me that,” Anakin murmurs. “Mr. Skywalker. I would much prefer you to call me Anakin.”
You look up at him timidly. He’s being sincere. One corner of his lips are quirked up to form a sideways smile and your heart— your stupid, stupid heart adores it.
Perhaps there is harm in pretending like your boss is in love with you. Perhaps keeping yourself in check is going to be a lot more difficult than you thought. Because now that you’re on a first name basis with Anakin Skywalker, you fear simply being his assistant is not going to be enough.
◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter four (coming soon)
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker fan fiction#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x f!reader#anakin skywalker x female reader#dilf!anakin skywalker#dilf!anakin#dilf anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker x you#as fate would have it
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day 9: bang chan + corruption kink
©straykeedz
tw: brother’s best friend!chan; reader is inexperienced; very brief hand job; oral sex (both m and f receiving); chan kinda kink-shames himself; fingering (f); chan praising the reader; cum swallowing; implied first time sex and loss of virginity (they basically have sex off screen lol); ♡
wc: 5,6k (I’M SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 3K MAX I DON’T KNOW HOW IT ENDED UP BEING 5 🫣)
i’m honestly not proud of this lol i changed my mind like a million times while writing this and i still don’t like it but then i thought fuck it and here we are - this was a lot better in my imagination i swear 🥲
this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡
🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡ ♡
to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡
smut below the cut, minors dni.
⚀
Chan almost falls from the couch when he hears those words - eyes wide as he stares at you like you just told him the most absurd thing in the world. Okay, maybe it is the most absurd thing in the world - or maybe you’re just not supposed to tell your brother’s best friend, who knows? Either way, you’re in too deep now, and Chan looks like he’s about to have a stroke in your living room.
“Y/n…”, he clears his throat, cheeks flushing slightly pink as he thinks about what to say next. “As your brother’s best friend it’s my duty to tell you that this…”, he trails, and you can already feel your heart drop at what he just said, even though it’s true - he is your brother’s best friend “…is a terrible idea.”, he concludes.
“Why?”, you furrow your eyebrows, taking a sip of your smoothie.
He struggles to find the right words to say, that much is clear. You can see it in the way he nervously fidgets with the hem of his oversized sweatshirt, or the way he’s constantly trying to swallow the lump in his throat, though unsuccessfully. Eventually, he figures there’s no right way to say what he has in mind, he just has to say the damn words out loud.
“Because, y/n…”, he stutters, and you find it cute - seeing him so flustered and clearly embarrassed. “It has to be with someone special, someone you love and who loves you back.”, he explains. “Not with a random dude. It’s your first time, it should be special.”, he concludes.
Not once in his life Chan thought he’d find himself talking about your sex life while being next to you, on your couch, in your living room. You, his best friend’s sister. Not once he thought he’d find himself lecturing you about how important it is to have your first time with somebody you care about. Yeah, Chan definitely wasn’t prepared for that. He doesn’t even remember how you ended up talking about this in the first place - one minute you were just chilling on the couch waiting for your brother to come home, and the next thing he knew you were complaining to him about the guy you were seeing and your lack of sexual activity. Poor Chan almost choked on his beverage when those words left your lips.
“Technically, I was about to have my first time.”, you correct him. “It’s not my fault he came before he even put it in and disappeared without a trace because he was too embarrassed.”, you shrug.
Chan is speechless, tips of his ears red as he listens to your words. He can’t believe he’s having this conversation with Jisung’s sister - you, who’d cry and throw tantrums if your brother won’t let her win while playing video games when you were a little girl. You, who - Chan realizes - are not a little girl anymore. You’re a grown woman now - who dates and is interested in boys and… sex, apparently.
“I think… you shouldn’t be talking to me about this.” Chan clears his throat. “You should talk with a friend or something.”
“I thought we were friends.”, you tease him.
“You know what I mean.” Chan sighs. “Like, a girl friend. I’m not- I don’t know what to say besides that I really think you should be doing it with the right person.”
Chan mentally pats himself on the shoulder - he feels like he did a great job, didn’t he? That’s what he’s supposed to tell his brother’s sister when she asks him for advices in that field, right? Be a good friend and try to prevent you from making stupid decisions that could potentially ruin your life.
“Please.”, you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “I gave up on the prince charming delusion a long time ago.”, you chuckle bitterly.
Chan doesn’t know anything about your private life, now that you think about it. He doesn’t know that you weren’t really into that guy and only went out with him a couple of times because you felt like you were missing out on something, he doesn’t know that you don’t really believe in love since the person you want to be with won’t ever reciprocate your feelings. He doesn’t know any of these things - so maybe coming to him for advice was the wrong decision.
“You don’t believe there’s the perfect guy for you out there?” Chan inquires, furrowing his eyebrows as he stares at you confused. Part of him is glad the conversation shifted to a less mature topic.
“Do you?”
“It’s impolite to answer one’s question with another question.” Chan points out, and feels like he just dodged a very dangerous bullet.
You do. You do believe there’s someone who’s perfect for you, who’d treat you just right and make you the happiest human in the whole world, the problem is - you think it’s Chan, but you can’t tell him that. You can’t tell him you always had a soft spot for him, you can’t tell him you wish he weren’t friends with your brother - things would be easier that way. You can’t tell him any of that.
“It would never work out.”, you cut it short.
“Oh, so there is someone.” Chan teases. “Why are you being so pessimistic? Why would it never work out?”, he asks.
“It’s complicated.”, you try to avoid answer his question directly. “Plus, I’m sure he doesn’t even see me as a woman.”, you let out a bitter chuckle as you fidget with your rings.
“Now, what does this even mean?” Chan looks at you with a confused expression, an eyebrow quirked at you. “Why wouldn’t he see you as a woman?”, he inquires.
Who could this guy possibly be?, Chan can’t help but wonder. He must be blind or something. You are a woman, a beautiful, stunning woman - with the curves in the right places and the prettiest smile Chan’s ever seen. This guy must be really stupid and he’s missing out on a lot, Chan thinks.
“Chan…”, you swallow the lump in your throat. “Do you? See me… as a woman?” And not only as your best friend’s sister?, you want to add.
Chan thinks is about to have a stroke, but luckily for him his phone rings - saving him from having to answer your question. However, you don’t miss the way his eyes widen and body freezes, and it hits you - he’ll never see you like you see him. You’ll be nothing more than Jisung’s sister in his eyes, and you’ll never stand a chance. You’ll never get the chance to be the one who makes him happy.
“N-Never mind.”, you mutter, tears already prickling in your eyes as you stand up from the couch and head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.
-
What feels like an eternity later but are, probably, ten minutes - someone knocks on your door. Someone being Chan, but from the other side of the door you can’t know it. For all you know, it could be your brother or, you know, a murderer - which seems to be a better option than facing Chan right now anyways.
But of course it’s Chan.
“Y/n?”, he calls softly from the hallway.
You could pretend to be asleep. Or just ignore him and pretend you were wearing headphones and didn’t hear him if he ever brings up the subject. Maybe the earth could swallow you whole. Maybe an asteroid could blow up the Earth in about five seconds to save you from the embarrassment of having to face Chan after the madness that took place in your living room? Your hopes on the asteroid are high. But the five seconds eventually pass, and you’re still in your bedroom, very much alive, and Chan is still on the other side of the door.
“What do you want?”, your intention was to sound brave and strong, but your voice is incredibly little as you speak. You get closer to the door, but you don’t open it.
He hesitates. “Your… uh, it was your brother - on the phone.”, he clears his throat. “He’s gonna come home late. Apparently there’s been a car crash and the main road is completely blocked, he’s bottled up in traffic.”, he explains.
“Oh.”
So that’s why he’s here. To pass the message of your brother. Not because he’d been thinking about your words and suddenly realized he loves you and wants to marry you and that you’re basically the love of his life and wants to have lots of babies with you? Disappointed, but not surprised.
“I also wanted to…”, he hesitates. “Can we- can we talk?”
That damn asteroid better be on its way.
“About what?”
You know what he wants to talk about, you’re not stupid. You felt so brave in the living room, ten minutes ago, and now? Now you’re staring at a closed door, heart beating loud in your chest as you’re trying to find a solution for the mess you created. Nobody but you. Not Chan, you.
“About… Can you… Could you open the door? Please.”
Giving up on the silly and improbable, yet not impossible, idea of the asteroid, you mentally pat yourself on the shoulder as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, a few seconds away from closing the distance with Chan. Are you ready to face him? Not really. It wasn’t in your plans to end your night with being rejected by your crush, but hey - this is the life, you guess.
When you swing the door open, he’s standing there, in his stupid oversized sweatshirt and tight jeans, looking absolutely fucking handsome and all you want to do is slam the door in his stupidly stunning face, get under the covers and basically never ever leave your bed again. How can someone look so hot in just a plain sweatshirt and skinny jeans, by the way?
You’re both clearly embarrassed - standing in front of each other awkwardly. What are you even supposed to say? He seems to be equally uncomfortable.
“You can… come in.”, you mumble, stepping aside to let him inside your bedroom. You figure it’s better than discussing whatever it is that he wants to talk about standing on the doorstep of your room.
It leads to you sitting uncomfortably on your bed, knees to your chest, and Chan sat on the gamin chair in your room, fidgeting with his rings, avoiding looking in your direction. You wonder what’s the point in being in the same room if neither of you is going to talk.
“What did you want to ta-“
“Why did you ask me if I see you as a woman?”
You speak in unison, voices overlapping. Well, this is awkward. What’s even more awkward - is that you’re now staring at each other, looking each other in the eyes. Of course that’s what he wanted to talk about.
You sigh. “It’s you.”
Chan looks at you confused, eyebrows furrowed as he asks - “Me?”, he genuinely doesn’t know what you’re referring to.
You nod. “You asked me if I believe there’s the perfect guy out there. It’s you.”
“Me?”, he asks again, this time in a high-pitched voice.
You nod again.
“It’s always been you, Chan. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t notice before.”, you chuckle, breaking the eye contact, fidgeting with the hem of your pajama pants. “I’ve liked you since I was thirteen.”, you confess, blushing a bit, because it feels surreal - to tell him all of this, to pour his heart to him on a random Friday night, in your bedroom.
He’s sincerely speechless, his brain still trying to process your words. You like him. You like him. Him, Bang Christopher Chan. Him. Since you were thirteen. And you think he’s the perfect guy for you. Him. And you think it’d never work out between you. Why would you think that? Oh, right, Jisung. And you think he doesn’t see you as a woman? You must be crazy.
Noticing he’s been silent for a while now, you decide to break the silence, despite the palpable tension. “Listen, just- just forget everything. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”, you still wouldn’t look at him. “You can go on with your life pretending I didn’t just confess my feelings for you and I’ll go on pretending I don’t have them.”
Chan blinks a few times, looking at your figure. You look so delicate and fragile, hugging your knees to your chest, and he feels the need to protect you, to take care for you.
“I can’t do that.”, he manages to say after what feels like an eternity.
Your head immediately snaps in his direction, meeting his warm, chocolate eyes. “Why?”
Chan runs one hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit, then takes a deep breath. He stands up from your chair and sits on the bed next to you. You try not to cringe at the fact that he’s wearing his outside clothes on your freshly washed sheets - it’s not the focus right now, you can always change them and throw them in the washing machine. His clothes are definitely not the focus when he takes your hand in his, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.
“Because I have feelings for you, too.”
If the asteroid is on its way, it better reverse right now.
“What?” Chan chuckles at your shocked expression, your jaw practically on the floor.
He nods. “I always tried to ignore them, tho. You know, because of…” he doesn’t say his name, but you know he’s talking about your brother. “Have had them for a while now. Not as long as you, but long enough to know it’s not just a crush.”
It all feels surreal, but then Chan continues.
“So, to answer your question - yes, I do see you as a woman.”, his words make your stomach twist - in a good way, of course. “A beautiful one at that.”, he whispers the last words.
You swallow the lump in your throat. Automatically, you’re both leaning towards each other until your foreheads are pressed together and your noses brushing. You’re sure you’re blushing, and he’s flustered, too.
“Chan can you… can we kiss?”, you whisper.
Chan is taken aback by your request, but it makes his legs feel weak nonetheless. A million thoughts are running through his head right now, most of them featuring your brother, but in the end he comes to the conclusion that you’re both adults and that you can make your own decisions and deal with the consequences later, together.
So, he closes his eyes and kisses you.
There’s nothing promiscuous in the way he presses his lips against yours, nothing dirty. It’s just a chaste, innocent kiss, however it makes your head spin nonetheless. His plump, soft lips feel a million times better than what you imagined. It’s you who decides to take a step further - deepening the kiss, biting and licking his lower lip, and Chan swears he can feel his soul leave his body.
He doesn’t pull away. In fact, he places his hand on the nape of your neck and pulls you closer. In a matter of seconds, he’s laying on his back on your mattress, and you’re still kissing him, propped up on one elbow as you cup his face with your free hand. However, Chan’s body instantly freezes when he feels you moving said hand from his face to his jawline, then his neck, then his chest, then his abdomen, and then… he stops you before you can cup his hard-on by wrapping his hands around your wrists, gently.
When he pulls away from the kiss, his lips are swollen, and it makes you throb knowing it’s because of you. Because he’s been kissing you. Tho, you look at him with a questioning look on your face.
“Maybe we should wait.” Chan whispers, running his other hand through your hair.
You blink a few times. “Oh - right. I’m sorry, it’s okay if you don’t want this.”, you mutter, embarrassed, breaking the eye contact.
Chan is quick to say - “No, no, wait. I do want this - I want this very much.”, he clarifies. “It’s just - I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I can wait.”, he moves a lock of hair from your face, looking you in the eyes.
You smile at him, a smile that warms his heart. “I want this, Chan. I’m not feeling pressured.”, you reassure him, tho he still doesn’t look convinced.
“Are you sure?”, he inquires. You nod. “One hundred percent?” You nod again.
“You said it before, that it should be with the right person.”, you repeat his words. “And I think you’re the one.”
You don’t recall how it happened, you only know that ten minutes later, both your and Chan’s clothes are scattered on the floor of your bedroom. He’s in his boxer, sitting on your bed, still kissing you, who are in just your oversized t-shirt and panties. His kisses slowly move from your lips to the corner of your mouth until he ends up kissing your jawline. By the time his lips brush the skin of your neck, you’re insanely wet, and can’t wait to feel him closer.
When you cup his hard cock, albeit still confined in his underwear, Chan thinks he’s about to die right there, right now. That’s it. His life ends like this - with a platonic handjob over his black boxers. However, he feels very much alive when you touch him properly - your hand finding its way under the waistband, cock harder than a fucking piece of metal.
“Oh, my God.”, he exhales after you give his length a long stroke.
You pump his length a few more times, before your movements come to a halt. Chan looks at you with a questioning look on his face, concerned - is this making you uncomfortable? You don’t want this anymore? It’s perfectly fine if you don’t, he just wants to make sure you two are still okay.
“I want to… try something, if that’s okay with you.”, you speak softly.
Chan nods, then swallows the lump in his throat when you hook your fingers on the sides of his underwear, motioning for him to take them off. He does, standing up from the bed as he lets the dark piece of fabric slide down his thick thighs. Your eyes widen at the sight - you’ve never seen a more beautiful dick. Not that you’ve seen many in real life, only the one of the guy you dated for a short period of time but, you know, you’ve seen a lot in porn. And Chan’s is the prettiest of them all. Average length, you suppose, but a bit thicker and absolutely perfect.
Chan is about to sit on the bed, when all of a sudden, in a matter of seconds, you’re kneeling right in front of him, making his heart jump in his throat.
“It’s-… I…”, you stutter, clearly embarrassed. All the confidence you previously had suddenly vanished.
“You don’t have to.” Chan is quick to reassure you, caressing the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair.
“I want to.”, you correct him. “It’s just - I’ve never done it before. I don’t… know how to.”, you confess, your puffy cheeks blushing a little as you admit you’ve never sucked a cock in your life to your ultimate crush.
Chan feels a shiver running all over his body, and he doesn’t know why - but his cock gets even harder. It should feel wrong, to be so turned on by a confession, especially if it’s coming from your best friend’s sister. But you look so innocent, kneeling before him, your mouth is only a few inches away from his hard, leaking cock, and Chan can’t stop the dirty thoughts that are now running through his head. The thought of being the first cock you’ll wrap your lips around is making him go feral. Maybe he should stop you - it doesn’t feel right, he feels like he’s about to commit something morally wrong and unacceptable, betraying his own friend, corrupting your innocence like that, even though you told him you want it, you want him.
“You- you really don’t have to.”, he repeats.
“You already said that.”, you chuckle. “I really want to, tho, Chan.”, you say once again. “Just- tell me what to do. I want to make you feel good.”
Chan’s soul is definitely burning in hell, he’s gone too far for the Lord to save his soul now. You’re looking at him through your eyelashes, beautiful doe eyes staring into his soul, and for a second there - it feels like you’re the one corrupting him, tempting him, driving him crazy.
“It’s- just… you can start by, uh- licking the underside.”, the words that leave his mouth sound even dirtier because he’s saying them to you.
You nod, still looking him in the eye as you proceed to do exactly what he said, wrapping your hand around his base. You lick your lips, damping them, and Chan feels like he’s about to have a stroke. And then, before he has the time to process what’s taking place in your bedroom, he feels your warm, wet tongue on his cock, and a loud sound falls from his lips. You do as he said, licking a long stripe that goes from his thick base to his leaking tip.
“D-Do that again.”, he chokes.
It shouldn’t feel go good, it shouldn’t feel so good, it shouldn’t feel so good - that’s what he keeps thinking. You repeat your last action - licking the underside of his hard member once again, collecting the little drop of pre-cum that leaked from his tip, tasting him, and his mind feels suddenly empty.
“Fuck- you drive me crazy.”, he closes his eyes, the sight of your mouth on his cock is too much for him to take. “Now take- take the tip inside. Just the tip.”, he instructs.
You nod, then wrap your lips around his cockhead. Chan has had his fair share of blowjobs throughout his life - but he swears none of them ever felt this way. Because none of the girls was you, that’s the harsh truth he has to accept. He hisses at the sight of your small mouth around his not-so-small dick, your pretty eyes still still staring at him as you witness him unravel under your touch.
“Now s-suck”, he stutters.
He brings his hand on your face as he watches you take his cock in your mouth - when suddenly he finds himself thinking of forbidden thoughts. For instance, that his is the first cock you sucked, that no one else before him had the privilege. He’s your first time doing something so promiscuous. He has you in a way no one has ever had you, and it’s making him going feral.
“Try a bit deeper now, love.”
You moan around his length at the pet name, and Chan can clearly see you clenching your legs as an attempt at relieving some of the tension you’re feeling. He wants to tell you that you don’t have to worry - that he’s going to take care of you, that he’s in charge of your pleasure tonight and, hopefully, from now on.
To be honest, you’re not skilled enough to take his whole length in, of course, and only manage to take half of it without choking on it, being careful not to hurt him with your teeth, but it’s more than enough for Chan - to be honest, he’s already practically detaining himself from orgasming.
“I’m- I’m so close”, he pants, entangling his fingers in your hair. “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”, he warns you.
You have no intention of pulling away, not when you’re about to see him lose himself in his pleasure. You feel incredibly proud at the thought that it’s because of you. You suck harder, tasting him against your tongue, wanting to make him feel good, better.
“Seriously…”, he hisses, feeling the familiar warmth in his lower abdomen. “I’m - so close.”, he moans. You don’t pull away; in fact, you suck harder. “I’m- fuck, fuck, I’m cumming.”
He shoots inside your mouth before he can stop himself, filling your mouth with his release, kicking his head back and closing his eyes as sweet sounds escape his parted lips and his body is shaken by a shiver. You’re curious about how he tastes, and that encourages you to swallow his release. You read a lot about what cum tastes like - some like it, others absolutely despite it; you have to admit, it tastes differently than what you expected, but not necessarily in a bad way.
“I’m sorry.”, Chan pants, not fully recovered from his intense high. You frown, looking at him confused. “For… you know, finishing in your mouth.”, he mumbles.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, then smile at him, cheeks red. “Don’t be, I wanted you to.”, you admit. “I liked it.”
Despite coming, Chan’s dick is still hard, and he’s nearly ready to go again. Not without giving you an equally mind-blowing orgasm in return. Soon, you’re lying on your bed with his body between your legs, his lips on yours, hard cock pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing against your most sensitive spot, making you whimper.
“Can I return the favor?”, he whispers on your lips, eyes staring into yours.
You nod timidly, which is ridiculous considering the fact you had his cock in your mouth only a couple of minutes ago, but it’s different now. He helps you take off your oversized t-shirt, letting it fall on the floor without a care in the world, revealing your naked chest to him and you suddenly feel exposed. The next thing he does is hook his fingers on each side of your panties and slowly slide them down your legs, taking in the sight of your naked body, a sight that makes his head spin.
“You’re so beautiful.”, he mumbles, placing a soft kiss on your navel which makes you shiver, getting goosebumps all over your naked body.
He leaves a series of kisses that go from your navel to your groin, but he doesn’t touch you right where you need him the most. Instead, he kisses your inner thigh, licking and scraping the soft flesh with his teeth, before he brings two fingers to his mouth, coating them in his own spit. Your eyes widen and your breath gets caught in your throat when he places those fingers precisely on your clit - finding it on the first try. He continues kissing you inner thigh as he touches your clit, moving his fingers in a circular motion, albeit slowly as his kisses get closer and closer to your sweet spot.
The moan that leaves your lips when he wraps his plump lips around your clit has him buckling his hips against the sheets in desperate need of some friction. He touches you there with his fingers, lips and tongue at the same time. Then, he drags his fingers all the way to your entrance, still making out with your clit as wet sounds fill your bedroom, but feels you freeze under his touch.
“Can I?”, he asks, then places another kiss on your clit as his head snaps up in your direction.
You prop yourself on your elbows, and nod slowly. “It’s… No one has ever…you know.”, you’re a bit embarrassed to admit, even though it’s perfectly normal.
“Not even… you?” Chan’s a bit embarrassed to ask you such a personal question.
You shake your head as a no, and blush a little. “I usually, uh… do it from the outside.”
Here it is again - the warmth in Chan’s stomach, the shiver down his spine. He takes a deep breath, shaking his head, as his fingers circle your wet entrance.
“Don’t do this to me…”, he sighs, his hair tickling the skin of your inner thigh.
“Do what?”, you ask, confused.
“You… keep saying these things to me and it makes me wanna-“, he rests his forehead on your belly, one arm wrapped around your leg and his fingers on your cunt. The words die in his mouth.
“It makes you wanna?”, you run one hand through his dark chocolate hair, encouraging him to continue.
He sighs. “It makes me wanna have you.”, he mumbles against your skin. “In way no one has had you, in ways that feel… forbidden. It shouldn’t turn me on this much.”, he shamefully admits. “It feels almost… wrong, you know?”
“What feels wrong?”
“That I’m turned on by the idea of being your first.”, he exhales. “Before, when you, uh… you don’t know the effect it had on me - seeing you with your lips around me, knowing that I was your first…”, he groans out of frustration.
You can’t help but chuckle at his confession. “Are you saying you’re feeling guilty because the idea of having sex with me turns you on?”
He sighs, still avoiding eye-contact with you. “It’s not just that.”, he shakes his head. “It’s the thought of being the first to do certain kind of things to you, you know? It feels like… I’m corrupting your innocence or something.”, he whispers the last words, ashamed of himself for voicing that thought.
“Chan, hey…”, his eyes finally meet yours. You smile warmly at him, showing him that you’re not turned off, neither grossed out by his confession. “It’s okay.”, you reassure him. “It turns me on, too - that you’re the first to do these kind of things to me. You don’t know how many times I thought about this.”
Chan whimpers almost instinctively at your confession. “Really?”
You nod. “It feels so good - knowing that it’s not a dream this time, that it’s all real.”
He begins to slowly move his fingers up and down your slit once again, feeling how wet you are for him, and suddenly he feels less bad about the whole situation - especially after learning that you feel the same about this. He nods, suddenly a lot more confident, then he resumes leaving kisses on your most intimate spot, bringing his lips and tongue back to where they previously were - on your clit, making you whimper.
“Tell me if it hurts.”, he whispers against your skin, and then you feel his fingers poking at your entrance.
Then, he lets the tip of his index slip inside, and you both let out a choked moan - him, because of how tight you feel around his digit; you, because, as opposed to what you were expecting, it doesn’t hurt at all, and it’s not uncomfortable either. Or maybe, you’re just super wet and impatient.
“Good?” Chan asks you once his finger is fully inside of you.
You nod vigorously. “Good.”, you confirm.
He resumes making out with your clit, only this time he slowly pumps his finger inside of you, stretching you open, albeit only slightly. He adds a second finger not too long later, delicately as he pushes it inside your tight walls, careful not to hurt you, getting you to adjust to the feeling. A few minutes later, you recognize the familiar warmth in your stomach, signaling your orgasm is close - how could it not be, when Chan’s eating you out like you’re his favorite meal, swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking it while pumping his fingers inside of you?
“Channie, I-“ A couple of long sucks on your clit make you reach your high - releasing around Chan’s fingers with a muffled whimper, legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.
Chan licks the residual of your arousal from his fingers, moaning as soon as he gets to taste you. “So sweet, love.”, he mumbles, body pressed against yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with soft kisses.
You run your fingers through his hair, still trying to catch your breath. After a few seconds spent in complete silence, you murmur - “Chan?”
“Hm?”
“I kind of… want more.”
He snaps his head in your direction, looking at you with wide eyes, as if he’s not sure he heard you right. “More?”, he asks. You nod. “Are you sure, love?” You nod once again. “It’s… a big deal I mean - it’s your first time.”,
“I’m sure.”, you tell him, and he can tell you’re being honest “I want it to be with you.” Chan can feel his cock practically throb, tightly pressed against his body and yours - you can feel it. “You don’t want to?”, you ask him, one hand in his hair and the other one caressing his arm and shoulder. “You don’t want to fuck me?”, you whisper on his lips, and he gulps.
You kiss his lips, then his jawline, then nibble his ear - “You don’t want to be my first? Take my virginity?”, you whisper in his ear, and don’t miss the way his body shivers on top of yours - mouth agape as he pants.
“Fuck.”
“Do you want it, Channie?”, you practically moan as you start kissing his neck. “Take me in a way no one has ever done? Make me yours?”
He instinctively starts to grind his cock against your body in desperate need for friction as the wildest, dirtiest thoughts are running through his head. “Fuck - I do.”, he whimpers when he feels your wetness starting to drip from your pussy, coating his balls as he keeps on grinding against you. “I do. So bad, love. Wanna make you mine.”, he moans. “Wanna be the first to fuck this pretty pussy - fuck, I want to be the last. Wanna make you cum around my cock, fuck. I want it so bad, love.”, he pants, eyes closed as his whole body is a shivering mess.
“Then take me.”
⚀
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Curses from Ex-Boyfriend || Oneshot
Character: Artist!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Y/N navigates humorous breakups and manages an art gallery. A reunion with first love, Bucky, at an exhibition ignites a whimsical love story woven with unexpected enchantments.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.
Y/N sunk into the barstool, her eyes telling tales of another failed relationship. Yolanda, the supportive friend, encouraged Y/N to share the latest misadventure in her love life.
Y/N sighed, "Okay, get this. The first one, Mike, broke up with me because he claimed my choice of pizza toppings was a reflection of our incompatibility. Apparently, pineapple lovers and non-pineapple lovers are destined to fail."
"Then there was Mark," Y/N continued, a smirk playing on her lips. "He couldn't stand the fact that I had a more extensive collection of pokemon than he did. He said it was a sign of divergent life goals."
Yolanda raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Tell me more."
"James, number three," Y/N chuckled, "Simple, he doesn't like dog."
"Alex was next in line," Y/N continued her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "He called it quits because he believed my excessive use of emojis in texts was a clear indication of a lack of emotional depth. Can you imagine?"
Yolanda laughed, "You can't be serious! What about the fifth one?"
Y/N sighed again, "Oh, Tom. He said my insistence on arranging our bookshelf by color instead of genre was a deal-breaker. Apparently, a good relationship requires organized literature. Can you believe these reasons?"
"Bucky was the longest, wasn't he?" Yolanda mused, a smile playing on her lips.
Y/N nodded, "Yeah, high school sweethearts, you know? We were the classic emo couple, complete with matching black outfits and moody music playlists."
Curiosity flickered in Yolanda's eyes, "So, why did you guys break up?"
Y/N chuckled, "Dead serious. Bucky was deep into it. I remember one day, he used a spell to try and cancel a math quiz."
Y/N grinned, "Oh, maybe because I'm over with emo and I think because Bucky got into magic, like, real magic. He bought this ancient-looking spell book at a flea market."
Yolanda's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, "Magic? Seriously?"
Yolanda burst into laughter, "Wait, what? A spell to cancel a quiz?"
Y/N nodded, "Yeah, he was convinced he could influence the universe with his newfound magical prowess. The thing is, our math teacher did cancel a quiz that week, but I later found out it was because he had a stomachache."
Yolanda's laughter faded into a look of realization, "Wait, are you saying Bucky's spell worked, or was it just a coincidence?"
Y/N shrugged, "Who knows? But I guess that was the beginning of the end. Bucky's magic phase and my inability to take his magical ambitions seriously eventually led to our breakup."
Yolanda winked, still teasing, "Maybe he enchanted you with a love spell, and that's why your relationships have been so... uniquely challenging."
Y/N rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation, "Please, if Bucky had any magical influence, it would've been to summon more black eyeliner or something."
Yolanda joined in the laughter, realizing the absurdity of her own suggestion. "I guess you're right. Love spells and high school relationships don't really go hand in hand."
As they clinked their glasses together, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for Yolanda's light-hearted humor.
Y/N groaned as she woke up with a slight headache, the remnants of the drinks from the previous night's escapade still lingering. Despite the throbbing in her head, she dragged herself to work at the prestigious art gallery where she served as the manager.
As Y/N settled into her office, her boss, the eccentric Madam Madeline, swept in with her fur jacket and oversized glasses, an aura of sophistication surrounding her. Madeline, always on the lookout for the next big thing, had an uncanny talent for discovering hidden gems in the art world.
With an air of excitement, Madeline announced, "Y/N, darling, I've found the next big artist during my travels around Europe. A true visionary! Prepare yourself; this is going to be huge for the gallery."
Y/N, still nursing her headache, tried to focus on Madeline's words. "Really? That's fantastic news. Who is this artist?"
Madeline beamed, "Oh, you'll see soon enough. I've arranged for the gallery to showcase their artwork. We need to get everything ready for the grand reveal. This could be a game-changer for us, my dear."
Despite the pounding in her head, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline at the prospect of introducing a groundbreaking artist to the gallery's patrons. With a nod and a determined smile, she assured Madeline, "Consider it done. I'll make sure everything is prepared for the big showcase. This artist is going to leave a mark on the art world, and our gallery will be at the forefront."
As Madeline left the room, Y/N rubbed her temples, contemplating the exciting challenge ahead.
The day of the grand art exhibition arrived, and the gallery buzzed with anticipation. Y/N couldn't help but be excited about unveiling the mysterious artist's work. The moment Madam Madeline revealed the artwork, gasps of awe echoed through the gallery.
The paintings were truly impressive, capturing the essence of emotion and movement in each stroke. Yet, as Y/N studied the intricate lines, a sense of familiarity tugged at her. It was only when Madeline dramatically unveiled the artist's identity that Y/N's surprise reached its peak.
"Bucky?" Y/N muttered under her breath, disbelief washing over her. She couldn't reconcile the image of the once-emo high school boyfriend with the sophisticated artist standing before her.
Without the signature eyeliner and long hair covering half his face, Bucky had transformed into an entirely different person.
Madeline, reveling in the dramatic revelation, announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, the brilliant artist behind these captivating pieces is none other than Bucky!"
Y/N's eyes widened as Bucky approached her with a confident smile. "Hey, Y/N. Long time no see."
It took a moment for Y/N to process the situation. "Bucky? The Bucky from high school?"
He nodded, "The one and only. Surprised?"
Y/N couldn't help but laugh nervously, "More than you can imagine. I didn't know you had this side to you."
Bucky chuckled, "Life is full of surprises. Just like art."
As the reality of the situation sank in, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected twist of fate.
Intrigued by the transformation in Bucky's life, Y/N couldn't help but ask, "Bucky, where have you been all these years?"
Bucky grinned, a twinkle in his eyes, "After high school, I decided to pursue art more seriously. I entered art school, but it turned out the formal education wasn't for me. So, I packed my bags and hit the road, traveling around the country to draw inspiration from different landscapes and cultures."
Y/N listened, captivated by the adventurous turn in Bucky's journey. "And then?" she prompted.
Bucky continued, "I found myself in Europe, sketching the beautiful landscapes and immersing myself in the art scene. That's where I crossed paths with Madeline. She saw something in my work, and the next thing I knew, I'm back home."
Y/N couldn't hide her amazement. "That's incredible, Bucky. I had no idea you were out there making a name for yourself in the art world."
Bucky smiled modestly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and gratitude. "Yeah, life has a way of surprising you," he remarked. "Art became my language, and every stroke on the canvas felt like a piece of my soul. Little did I know it would lead me here."
As Y/N continued to admire Bucky's work, a comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the soft background hum of the art gallery. The familiarity of their shared past mingled with the newfound understanding of the paths they had taken.
Bucky broke the silence, "You know, Y/N, seeing you again brings back a flood of memories. The art, the laughter, the quirky moments—some things never change."
Y/N smiled, "Indeed, some things don't. Life has a funny way of circling back, doesn't it?"
As Madeline enthusiastically dragged Bucky away to meet other attendees, Y/N found herself momentarily alone, surrounded by the captivating artwork.
Observing Bucky engage with the crowd, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the once-emo high school boyfriend who had evolved into a renowned artist. The whimsical nature of their teenage years seemed worlds apart from the sophisticated individual now navigating the art world.
Y/N strolled through the gallery, and she noticed a subtle but significant detail in each painting – a delicately drawn flower nestled somewhere within the vibrant strokes. The realization struck her like a soft breeze, and she couldn't help but smile. It was her favorite flower, a subtle signature Bucky had left in each masterpiece.
Bucky, engrossed in conversation with other attendees, glanced in Y/N's direction. Their eyes met, and in that fleeting moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. Y/N felt a warmth spreading within her, realizing that the flowers in Bucky's art were more than just a visual motif.
The language of art spoke louder than words, and Y/N interpreted the message within those flowers in the quiet exchange of glances. It was a silent acknowledgment, a whispered confession that transcended the boundaries of time and distance. Bucky's subtle gesture conveyed, "I still think of you."
As the art gallery hummed with admiration for Bucky's creations, Y/N couldn't help but feel a connection rekindling.
After the event, the air crackled with anticipation as Y/N mustered the courage to approach Bucky. "Bucky, would you mind grabbing a coffee with me? It's been so long, and I'd really like to catch up," she said, her heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.
Bucky, meeting her gaze with a warm smile, replied, "Absolutely, Y/N. I'd love that."
As they sat in the dimly lit cafe, the atmosphere seemed to thicken with unspoken emotions. Conversations veered into shared memories and life's twists and turns. Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that, perhaps, this was a crucial moment—a juncture where destiny hung in the balance.
Later, in the intimacy of Bucky's hotel room, he opened an old sketchbook. Pages turned with a whisper, revealing an old photo of Y/N. Intriguingly, on the adjacent page, a spell was inscribed—an enchantment woven into the fabric of their shared history. The room seemed to pulse with an energy that felt both familiar and intense.
Bucky's chuckle was dark and enigmatic as he muttered, "Damn, it works."
The revelation left Y/N completely unaware. Little did she know that the seemingly whimsical magic from their teenage years had woven a thread connecting their souls, guiding them back to each other after years of divergent paths. As they continued to share laughter and stories, the magic of the past lingered in the air, creating a subtle but powerful force that bound them together.
Author Note:
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something good ⋆ bucky barnes
summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him.
that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...
"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."
Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.
"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."
The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.
Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.
He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.
And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.
To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.
So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—
"Are you mad at me?"
You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.
"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"
Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.
"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."
"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."
He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"
Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.
"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."
"Danced with the rest of them?"
You nod silently.
Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."
"Okay..."
"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."
"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"
"Is there somebody else?"
The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.
"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"
"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.
You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.
"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"
"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."
"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"
"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.
"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."
"Since when?"
Since I met you.
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."
"I just wondered."
"Okay, fine."
You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.
"Wait, just—"
He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.
Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.
You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.
Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.
"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.
His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.
"Do you not want me to...?"
He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.
You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."
"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."
"Before what came to this?"
"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."
You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.
"Bucky..."
"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"
A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."
"It could've been nice, you and me."
"I think it could have been."
"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."
"Like...Steve?"
It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."
The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...
"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."
"You gonna be waiting for me?"
You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"
The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.
You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"
"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky x you#bucky x reader#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier x fem!reader#winter soldier x you#marvel fanfic#marvel imagine#bucky barnes scenario#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes headcanon#mcu fanfic#mcu#mcu fanfiction#mcu imagine#bucky barnes headcanons#bucky barnes hcs#bucky barnes hc#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes blurb#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes dialogue#bucky barnes fluff
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Geto's Warning
Dad!Geto x reader
Genre: Fluff
Words: 545
Synopsis: Geto's daughter wants to marry uncle Gojo
Gojo version
Masterlist
The sun was setting, casting a warm glow through the windows of the Geto household. You lounged on the couch with your husband, Geto who was engrossed in a book. Suddenly, the peace was shattered by the energetic entrance of your daughter, Hana.
"Mom, Dad, guess what!" she exclaimed, her eyes alight with excitement.
You glanced up from your phone, while Geto marked his page, both curious about the source of her enthusiasm. You exchanged puzzled glances before Geto spoke up, raising an eyebrow, "Alright, spill it, Hana. What's this life-altering decision you've made at the tender age of six?"
With a gleeful grin and an unmatched enthusiasm, Hana declared, "I've decided I'm going to marry Uncle Gojo!"
You nearly choked on your own breath, and Geto's eyebrows shot up in surprise. After a moment of stunned silence, Suguru recovered first, his face displaying a mix of bewilderment and skepticism. He cleared his throat, trying to process her declaration.
"Uncle Gojo?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief, "Why Uncle Gojo, of all people?"
Hana nodded vigorously, her determination unwavering, "Because he lets me do everything! He's the best and the coolest!"
You couldn't help but chuckle at her reasoning, but Geto remained skeptical. "Hana, marrying someone just because they let you do everything might not be the best foundation for a relationship. And sweetheart, marriage is a big decision."
He paused for a moment before continuing "Are you sure Uncle Gojo is the right choice?"
Hana crossed her tiny arms and nodded again, her conviction unshaken. "Yes, Dad! He's super fun! He lets me eat candy for dinner!"
Geto's expression softened, and he exchanged a knowing glance with you before turning back to Hana. "Well, Hana, marriage isn't just about fun. It's about finding someone who cares for you deeply and respects you."
"Uncle Gojo does care about me! He said I could be the president of the Gojo fan club! And he gave me a Hello Kitty bandaid when I fell at the park daddy" She retorted.
Your husband glanced at you, trying to hold back a smile. "Well, that's quite the selling point," he conceded, "But you should also be careful. Uncle Gojo is... a unique character."
Hana tilted her head, "What do you mean, Dad?"
Geto leaned in, his expression turning serious, "Sweetheart, Uncle Gojo might seem fun and carefree, but remember, always stay alert around weird people. And he's probably the weirdest of them all."
You burst into laughter, earning a disapproving look from Geto, who continued to warn Hana about the eccentricities of her chosen future uncle.
Hana tilted her head, intrigued. "What do you mean, Dad?"
Geto leaned in conspiratorially, his tone serious. "Well, sweetheart, Uncle Gojo is a bit... eccentric. You never know what he might do next."
You couldn't help but interject, trying to lighten the mood, "Remember that time he tried to juggle watermelons?"
Hana burst into laughter, picturing the absurd scene in her mind. "Yeah, and then he accidentally dropped one on his foot!"
Geto chuckled, shaking his head. "Exactly. So, while Uncle Gojo may seem like a fun choice now, just remember to stay alert around weird people like him."
Hana nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Okay, Dad. I'll keep that in mind."
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#geto suguru#geto#suguru geto#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk geto#jjk geto x reader#jjk suguru#geto fluff#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto fluff#geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru fanfic#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru fluff#geto suguru x you#geto x reader
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bound 2 (falling in love)
danielle marsh x fem!reader | one shot
Synopsis: Good news: Danielle has agreed to be your pretend girlfriend for Christmas so Haerin can stop extorting you of money. Bad news: Danielle is a bit too good at being a pretend girlfriend.
Contains: suggestive and threatening jokes, cursing, obligatory mistletoe scene
Song: Gingerbread Lover — Ivoris, Chevy
“I’m so screwed,” is what you say as you plop on the booth across from Minji.
She makes no movement to greet you, engrossed in some YouTube video titled ‘How Ceramic Tiles Are Made’. She’s never expressed any interest in tiles nor has any history with tiles, but this is not anything unusual for Minji.
She’s also playing the video at an uncomfortable volume, not necessarily on full speaker, but loud enough that the people on the next table over could hear and possibly be annoyed at.
You start digging into your chicken Caesar salad and smile to yourself in amusement as you spot Minji’s finished plate of it as well.
The two of you made a pact to eat healthier. Issue is, there’s this one dessert place two streets down that makes some bomb biscoff cookies, and you always catch each other there at least once a week. There’s a silent agreement that this does not break the pact.
You both sit in silence for a few more minutes until the video is finished — you eating and Minji watching.
Minji takes a loud sip of her hot chocolate when the video transitions to an obnoxious outro. “You were saying?”
You retell the story to her with a mouth full of food, and there are occasional offtopic segues, as there always are.
To sum it up: Your cousin Haerin is a force of evil and strangely has a good memory. Allegedly, you made a wager with her when you were both nine years old that you would get a girlfriend to bring home for Christmas when you turned eighteen.
And apparently, if you didn’t find one, you would have to pay her a hundred dollars.
Two things strike you as absurd: that younger you somehow thought you would be charming enough to get a girlfriend, and that younger you somehow thought you would have a hundred dollars just lying around to spare.
And for some reason, Haerin decided to never remind you of this wager until, of course, yesterday. You obviously didn’t believe her, but it was kind of hard to argue with Haerin.
Not because she’s good at arguing, but because she just stands there with this look in her eyes that makes you uneasy. So, you didn’t bother questioning her because you know there’s no escaping this fate.
So now, you have just a few days to find a girlfriend, because there was no way you were paying money.
There’s also the matter of pride, too.
“Yeah,” you finish off your monologue. “I texted Hanni if she could be my date, but she just ignored it and sent me some TikTok of a stupid looking dog.”
Minji steals a piece of grilled chicken from you, to which you step on her foot under the table. You pull back your feet in time before she can return the favor. You get a glare instead.
“And Hyein?”
A notification ding stops you before you can speak. You lean forward to look at your phone. “Speaking of Hyein…”
Hyein’s text reads, I think I found someone for you! You two meet at the usual cafe at 12 tomorrow :)
“Okay,” you start. “Good news or bad news first?”
Minji thoughtfully chews on another piece of grilled chicken that she stole. Your plate of salad somehow now sits in the middle of the table instead of right in front of you. “Bad news.”
“Well I want to say the good news first,” you wave the fork in your hand dismissively. You’re pretty sure Minji mumbles “asshole”, but you ignore that as well.
“Good news,” you declare with a smile. “I found a girlfriend.”
Minji is unimpressed.
“Bad news,” you sigh. “I have to talk to said girlfriend who is a stranger.”
She is still unimpressed. “This is why nobody wants you. You don’t talk to anyone outside of us.”
“You don’t get it. It’s part of my mysterious vibe,” you grumble petulantly.
“Well, if you don’t want to socialize like a normal person,” Minji is folding a serviette into some sort of disfigured airplane. “Then consider paying Haerin that one hundred bucks.”
“I would never,” you fold your arms. “And even if I would, I can’t, because I literally only have 76 dollars in my bank account.”
You text Hyein back: you’re the BEST i love u so much xoxoxoxoxo
Minji tries to throw her tissue airplane at you, but it flops unceremoniously into your now empty bowl.
She sighs. “I guess I’m paying for lunch.”
“It’s your turn anyway.”
And that’s the end of the conversation, or at least the conversation concerning your predicament. You both spend the next hour babbling on about recent life updates and rehashing the same old stories over and over again.
“How do I look?”
You have your phone set upright by leaning it on this worn red panda plushie. Its head is permanently twisted after you and Haerin fought for it as kids and ended up ripping it in two, which led to your mom having to stitch it back together. She didn’t do a very good job, clearly.
You see Hanni, or what you think is Hanni, squint at the camera. “Like a bunch of pixels. The connection is so shit that you look like those wendigos from Until Dawn.”
“I’m sure you look fine,” Minji chimes in. This is the first time that she’s spoken since the call started (the call has been going on for half an hour), her camera pointed at her ceiling, and you’re pretty sure she’s half asleep.
“Thanks,” you say. “And I’m pretty sure it’s your WiFi, Hanni.”
You think she’s arguing back, but it’s all a garbled mess, and then the call drops. (It was definitely your WiFi.) You check your appearance one last time before you make your way to the cafe.
The cafe is named “Spill The Beans”, which you find appropriate, because that’s all you ever find yourself doing there. The walk there is a bit long, but the decent prices and good quality make up for it.
Plus, it means that most people would rather go to a cafe that’s closer, so this one has a bit more of a ‘if you know, you know’ vibe to it.
You’re also friends with one of the workers there, and she occasionally sneaks you a free pastry, or even better, gives you gossip about one of the regulars. You smile when you see her signature blonde hair through the window.
The cafe is decorated for Christmas — tinsel stringing on the top and bottom of the windows and cutely drawn candy canes and baubles stuck on the panes. There’s also a cardboard cutout of a snowman holding a coffee cup sitting next to the door. You hear the muffled voice of Mariah Carey.
Your entrance is announced by the light tinkling of the bells. You make your way to the cash register to greet a familiar face.
“It’s beginning to look a latte like Christmas!” Yunjin sings as she twirls clumsily, broomstick in her hand as a microphone. You are forced to stand there and watch this. For some reason, she’s adamant on greeting you with a coffee pun everytime you come in. She has yet to crack a smile from you.
“Stop it,” you groan, scanning the cafe and checking who’s in. There’s only four or five people in right now, most of whom you recognize. She holds the last note, with an unnecessary vibrato, for a few more seconds.
“So,” she leans toward you with an eyebrow raised. “Anything new or interesting you wanna share?”
“Asking for gossip?” You deadpan. “Is that how you take orders now?”
“Just curious,” Yunjin says nonchalantly. “You’re never here alone.”
You give her a scowl. “Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.”
There are some things that you can be sure of in life. You know how the saying goes: death, taxes, and Yunjin being all-knowing. She and her little army of spies (spies being her co-workers) are the most nosy people you could ever meet.
You’re pretty sure they consider eavesdropping as their main job, and that the cafe is just a means for them to satisfy their curiosity. (Again, an extremely appropriate cafe name.)
She grins cheekily, dropping her voice to a whisper and tilting her head. “She’s on that table.”
You follow her gaze to the table against the window, where a girl who seems around your age is staring outside like she’s the protagonist of a coming-of-age movie.
Yunjin slides you a slice of a carrot cake and winks. “On the house. Good luck!”
You grab the plate off the counter and slowly make your way toward your future fake girlfriend.
“Hi,” you clear your throat awkwardly as you slip into the seat opposite her. “Danielle, right?”
She enthusiastically nods and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you.”
You slide the plate of carrot cake towards her, to which she gratefully accepts. “Has Hyein filled you in on everything?”
“Hm,” Danielle taps her cheek. “Christmas party, a wager, and me as a fake girlfriend?”
“Sounds about right,” you hum. “Not to be nosy, but is there a reason that you’re doing this? I mean, you’re not getting anything in return.”
“Hyein did say she’d owe me a favor,” she answers with a hint of amusement. “Which I’m sure will come in handy one day. You’re also cute, so it’s a bonus.”
You internally wipe a proud tear. God bless you, Hyein. You make a note to get her something snazzy for Christmas. You were so thankful for Hyein that you didn’t even process the last sentence.
You then realize that you’re just spacing out and probably look a bit crazy, so you quickly clear your throat. “So, we should probably come up with our origin story and all that.”
“We should,” Danielle agrees.
You scratch your nape awkwardly before pulling out a notebook. You have this secret theory that notebooks are a hoax and people just pretend to use them. Which is a bit contradictory for you to say, because you’re using one right now. But you still hold onto that belief.
“So, when did we first meet?”
She seems a bit taken aback by the presence of the notebook, but her face quickly relaxes into a smiling one. “What are your interests? Maybe we share some and that’s how we met.”
“Actually,” you proudly flick to the back of the notebook. “I have prepared for this question.”
It reads: About Me
I like staying indoors
I go to the cafe sometimes
And that cookie place
Cats are cute
?
“Wow,” Danielle says after surveying your notes. “This is a very… extensive list.”
“Anything that can be used for our story?”
“Let’s just say we met at the cafe,” she decides. You nod in agreement.
“And who approached who first?”
“Definitely me.”
You frown and stop writing. “Why definitely?”
“I mean,” Danielle gestures at you vaguely. “We have to make the story realistic.”
“I hope you mean that because I’m too irresistible, not because I can’t talk to anyone.”
She smiles. “…Right. That’s exactly what I meant.”
“Excellent,” you say, continuing to pen down the story. “So, let’s say about three months ago, give or take, you entered the cafe for the first time. And then you saw me, sitting there all cute and pretty, and you knew you just had to ask for my number.”
“Right…”
“And because I’m never here alone, I’ll just say Minji was in the bathroom. I gave you my number, and then we instantly hit it off.”
“And Minji is…?”
“Oh,” you pause. “She’s a dumbass. Don’t worry about her.”
“Okay,” Danielle says slowly. “And our first date?”
“We’ll get to that in a sec,” you tap your pen. “Tell me about yourself.”
“I,” she heaves out as she bends down to reach into her tote bag. “Have also prepared.”
She slaps a folder on the table that resembles a police case file. You feel a sudden wave of affection crash over you. You immediately open it in anticipation.
It’s an in-depth profile of Danielle. There is the technical stuff, of course: name, date of birth, star sign, MBTI. Then, there’s the ‘favorites’ section: color, animal, season, time of day.
“Oh wow,” you run your fingers over the page. “This is more than I expected.”
You turn the page. There’s a ‘fun facts’ section, although you’re not sure if it’s considered fun. Example: “I once broke a tooth from trying to eat a rock. I also choked on it and my friend had to perform the Heimlich maneuver.”
“Oh wow,” you say again, louder this time, and out of concern more than awe. “Was this when you were a kid?”
“No,” Danielle blinks innocently. “Just last year.”
She is fucking insane. How on earth did Hyein find her?
The last page features results that she got from various UQuizzes, like “what romance trope is meant 4 you?” (ironically, she got fake dating) or “which ‘-core’ aesthetic are you?”
“I’ll make sure to study this when I get home,” you stare at the pages in astonishment.
“Sure,” Danielle smiles. “I was thinking our first date could be at the local arcade.”
A memory of Hanni breaking the buttons and joystick of a fighting game flashes in your mind. The joystick somehow flew and hit a worker in the face. To this day, you still have no idea how it happened.
Regardless, you always look back at the memory fondly, especially because Hanni didn’t even end up winning, despite putting her whole body into smashing the buttons.
“Haerin will know that’s a lie,” you grimace. “I’ve been banned from that place for three years now. Long story.”
She looks curious but continues anyway. “How about a classic dinner?”
“Hm,” you purse your lips. “There’s this amazing Korean restaurant that’s a 10 minute walk from this place.”
“And you’re not banned?”
You laugh and shake your head. “No. They make this amazing jjajangmyeon. I’ll have to take you someday.”
“Sounds good,” Danielle’s eyes twinkle. “I think that’s good enough for now. Anything else I should know?”
“The party is on Christmas day, of course. It’ll just be a dinner and some party games, nothing too serious. After the party, our work is all done!”
“And Haerin,” you hesitate. “She’s nosy. But not in an ‘asking questions’ way, but in a staring way. So we have to act really good if we want her to believe us. Like, a real couple and everything. Like-”
Her laugh cuts you off. “You can say PDA, it’s okay.”
You cough and turn to the side to hide the heat rising in your cheeks, but when you look out the window, you see an odd sight.
Across the street, on a bench, there are two suspicious figures sitting. Suspicious meaning wearing sunglasses, a coat, and a scarf despite it being hot today. Suspicious meaning Minji and Hanni.
No fucking way, you think. Those little fuckers.
“-you okay?” Danielle waves her hand in front of you.
“Huh?” You quickly turn back. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”
“I love physical touch,” she admits, although somewhat shyly. “So I’m okay with hugging and holding hands.”
“Good!” You reply stiffly. “Great. Awesome. All done.”
There’s a mix of confusion, concern, and amusement on her face. “I’ll see you soon?”
“Yes,” you slide your phone across the table before opening her file in front of your face to hide your embarrassment. “Let’s text in between so we get used to talking to each other too.”
The two of you exchange numbers and you watch Danielle leave with a smile and a wave. Minji and Hanni proceed to shuffle inside the cafe, sighing in relief as they take off their ‘disguise’.
“Oh my god,” Hanni whines, resting her cheek on your outstretched palm. “I thought I was gonna die outside.”
You retract your hand in disgust, but not before flicking her forehead. “You’re sweaty. And you deserve it.”
“So how did it go?”
You recount everything that happens. Minji makes you pay for her lunch. You now have 46 dollars in your bank account.
When you get home, you hug your red panda plushie and turn on your phone to see a text from Danielle. You spend the next few days talking to her, your feet kicking in the air and a stupid smile on your face.
The day of the Christmas party has arrived. It’s due to start at six in the evening, and exactly three hours before that, Haerin sends you nothing but an ominous text: I will be awaiting you and your girlfriend’s arrival.
You roll out of bed and get ready in the morning, and read through Danielle’s file one last time. You’ve annotated it, adding sticky notes and highlighting it, which is more work than you’ve done for the entirety of university so far.
You make sure to put the matching reindeer headbands that Danielle suggested on before leaving. You drive to pick her up and you try not to weigh the meaning of the warmth blooming in your chest as you see her.
“Hi girlfriend,” Danielle puffs her cheeks out and smiles as she gets in the car. It’s awfully cute.
“Hey.”
“Before I forget,” you reach over into the glove compartment to grab a little box. “I got you a Christmas present.”
Danielle gasps, eyes shining as she opens the box. It’s a gold necklace with a sun pendant. You remember her eyeing it when you went out to the mall.
You don’t expect her to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
She also takes out a little box from her pocket. “I also got you a present.”
God, she even prepared it with a nice ribbon. You unwrap it to find a silver bracelet with a moon pendant. You think you’re a tiny bit delusional for thinking that you two were meant to be, but you let yourself live in this fantasy just for today.
“Oh my god,” you grin. “We’re matching now.”
The both of you put on your respective gifts before you start the car. You instinctively pass her your phone to pick a song. Of course, she puts on Christmas music. You glance at her as she takes out her crochet supplies.
“What are you working on?”
“Nothing much,” Danielle says. “Just a little cat to add to your car. It’s kind of plain.”
Her thoughtfulness makes you feel an out-of-body experience where you want to scream your lungs out and melt into a gay puddle.
You manage to get out one word. “Cool.”
The two of you pass the time by quizzing each other and ironing out the fine details of your ‘relationship’. And belting your hearts out to Christmas songs.
The drive is only an hour or so, and there’s a tender feeling encompassing you as you truly realize that it’s Christmas. Spending time with family is always nice. Receiving presents is too.
You only see Haerin a few times a year, and Christmas is one of them. Despite your bickering and her foreboding aura, she’s still somewhat endearing.
Danielle looks out the window in excitement as you draw closer to Haerin’s house. There’s a large blow-up Santa set up on the lawn that they reuse every year, and a bunch of other generic Christmas decorations.
You can already spot Haerin in the window of the house staring at your car.
Pretending to check your phone, you mutter, “She’s watching us. Let me open the car door for you.”
Danielle only responds with a giggle. You dash outside the car in record time, open the back to get your cookies and presents, and open the car door for her, as planned.
She surprises you with a kiss on the cheek. You’re sputtering and blushing, and she has to drag you toward the house (and lock the car for you).
By the time you come to your senses again, Haerin has vanished.
You heave out a long exhale and your gaze flickers to Danielle. You find that her eyes are already on you. If there was a person who could embody the joy and comfort that Christmas brings, you think that it would be the girl in front of you right now.
“You ready?”
Danielle brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. For a second, you indulge yourself in the yearning of your heart and pretend that this is all real.
“Of course.”
Inside the house is chaotic as always. Everyone’s rushing to finish wrapping gifts, preparing the food, putting plates and cutlery on the table, setting up the TV to play Mario Kart, the usual.
You take Danielle around to introduce her to everyone, and you feel slightly guilty as everyone fawns over her. Haerin is the last person you find.
“Haerin,” you say. She nods in acknowledgment. “This is my girlfriend, Danielle. Danielle, my cousin Haerin.”
“Nice to meet you,” Danielle gushes, letting go of your hand to hug her. “I’ve heard so many stories about the two of you and your adventures.”
“Don’t trust those stories,” Haerin says. “She probably changed it to make her look better.”
You whip your head around. “What the f-”
Danielle winks. “Don’t worry. I know how much of a loser she is.”
You take a deep breath in and force a smile. You must maintain the jolly Christmas spirit.
Haerin gives Danielle a once over before nodding mysteriously. She then stalks off to who knows where. Danielle looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
You pat her shoulder. “That’s a good sign.”
“That felt surprisingly easy…”
“Oh no,” you laugh. “We’re just getting started. They’re going to try separate us-”
With perfect timing, you hear your name being called before you’re dragged into the kitchen.
“Be a dear and help us with the food,” your mom says kindly. (You know this is a facade.) You accept your fate and place down the cookies before starting to cut the vegetables for the turkey.
You try to keep an eye on Danielle, who’s now putting ornaments on the Christmas tree with your other relatives.
The Christmas tree has been around since you were a baby, and if you look closely, there's pieces at the back that is slightly charred. Haerin pushed you, you tripped on your own feet, crashed into the tree, and it fell into the fireplace. Alarms went off, neighbors left the house in a panic, the firefighters were called… it was bad.
You strain your ears and try to hear what questions your family are asking Danielle right now, and you hope it’s nothing too over-the-top or personal. She seems to be taking it well though. Your aunt keeps bringing you new things to do and speaking loudly in an attempt to distract you.
“First girlfriend, huh?” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder.
“Yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. “I’m so lucky, right?”
“She seems good for you.”
You pause your chopping. “It’s only been five minutes, Mom.”
There’s a gleam in her eyes. “That’s all I need. And you finally have a reason to go outside for once.”
You roll your eyes and continue chopping. Your aunt comes in at one point, and together, the two of them grill you about the details of your relationship. The words fall out of your mouth just as you rehearsed.
It’s around half an hour later when you’re finally reunited. The dinner is delicious, as always, and it all feels so good.
The light squeezes on your arm, resting her hand on your thigh under the table, making sure you get the crunchy potatoes because that’s your favorite — it feels so good.
And none of this is real, but as you listen to Danielle bantering with your family, your feelings start to feel more real.
The realization sets your heart aflame, just like the fireplace once did to the Christmas tree.
You’re leaning on the kitchen counter, nursing a can of Sprite as you watch Danielle squeal over Mario Kart (she just got hit by a red shell).
Haerin joins you. She doesn’t announce her entrance but you can sense her presence.
“No money for you,” you smirk.
“No. I guess not.”
Hell yeah. Your bank account is safe. “What do you think of her?”
“She seems too nice for you.”
You elbow her ribs. “Be nice. It’s Christmas.”
“…I’m happy for you.”
“Oh Haerin,” you muster up a sweet voice and open your arms out for a hug. She grabs a knife and holds it in front of her. Nevermind. You take multiple steps backwards.
The race is over, and Danielle finishes in a whopping seventh place. She turns around and looks for you, and smiles when your gazes lock.
You tilt your head, and she tilts her head back in response.
“I’ll be back,” you slither out of the kitchen. “The girlfriend calls.”
You think you hear Haerin scoff but you’re too busy focusing on Danielle. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh,” you cough. “Sorry, I’ll show you the way.”
You try not to stumble as you hear someone call out “don’t run off and make out!” Thankfully, Danielle takes it well and isn’t weirded out.
You’re unsure if it’s weird to wait outside, but you do it anyway (from a respectable distance) in case she needs anything. When she’s done with her business, the two of you make your way back to the living room, and your worst nightmare (but also a dream deep down) comes true.
Haerin is standing there, with her stupid mischievous smile and Rudolph’s nose on, holding some DIY fishing rod. At the top of that rod hangs a mistletoe.
“Haerin,” you hiss. “Put that down.”
She closes her eyes and pretends she doesn’t hear you. It’s like everyone’s telepathic, because suddenly everyone has their attention turned to you, and they’re egging you on.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
This cannot be real, you think. This is some skit or a sick joke.
You turn to Danielle awkwardly.
“A cheek kiss will be enough,” you say apologetically. “We don’t have to-”
She cuts you off with a kiss — a chaste one, but it shocks you nonetheless. You can barely hear the cheers of your family over the pounding of your heartbeat.
Haerin eventually brings you back to Earth by smacking your face with the rod, and everyone’s back to doing whatever they’re doing.
“Sorry,” you see Danielle’s worried face as your vision starts to refocus. “Was that too much?”
“No,” you blurt out. “I’m sorry. Because I actually like you but I just realized that twenty minutes ago and I have to tell you now because I don’t want you to think that I’m using you-”
“I know,” she laughs, grabbing your hand to squeeze. “Me too.”
You blink. “Oh. Cool.”
“…So we’re real girlfriends, right?”
“Yes,” she pokes your nose. “We are.”
“Awesome! Because I was going to ask you to be my fake girlfriend again for New Year’s.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls you back to the living room, and you finally understand, for the first time, all the cheesy Christmas songs.
God bless you, Hyein.
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The Boss’s Date Coaching
oh baby it's another Goromi event! this one's a board game with Nishida as our protagonist
the board music was Receive You the Madtype
I thought it was kind of funny that they were squeezing another Goromi event in when her character story and past event already covered............. basically every single moment available in YK1! but that's okay.
because this one doesn't take place in YK1
as a brief aside on pronouns, I’m sticking with she/her for any references to Goromi. the term for boss Nishida uses for her, 親父, is explicitly masculine in the same way that patriarch in english is, but I’m not factoring that in for this translation
I will put a content warning that there's a brief attempted sexual assault in this, it's only a few lines and is resolved very quickly but it is there
summary: It is 2006. Goromi is waiting for Kiryu to arrive at SHINE to help out a hostess so she can (once again) surprise him. Nishida has a date coming up, and in her boredom Goromi decides she'll teach him the secrets of a woman's heart.
[2006]
[After Kiryu Kazuma was released from prison….] (Tl note: the first time I completely blew past the fact that this said 2006 and not 2005. But I guess 2006 is technically after Kiryu was released from prison, so.)
Goromi: ……Kiryu-chan, you're takin' so long~.
Goromi: Nishida! Are ya absolutely sure ya actually emailed him?
Nishida: Y-Yes! I'm positive I did...
Goromi: Then why ain't he come here?
Nishida: Kiryu-san is… a really busy person, so… he must have gotten himself caught up in something…. (tl note: Nishida refers to Kiryu as Kiryu no ojiki, which is literally your uncle who is younger than your dad, and in yakuza terms usually means a patriarch less senior than your own. I'm going with -san for simplicity of showing he's being deferential)
Goromi: ……..Well, a burly guy like Kiryu-chan probably gets tons of invites.
Goromi: But I got all this time to kill~. …Nishida, ain't there just nothin' interesting?
Nishida: I-I guess so…
Goromi: Kaaa~… When there's a girl this cute with nothin' to do, ya oughta be helpin' her kill some time!
<phone buzzes>
Nishida: …! (tl note: this is literally the first time Nishida has looked not extremely worried)
Goromi: Oh! Is it from Kiryu-chan!?
Nishida: N… No, it wasn't.
Goromi: What the hell. Who's it from?
Nishida: Umm… well…
Goromi: …You're stallin'. Give it here!
Nishida: Ah…
Goromi: …"I had a lot of fun on our date on Saturday, Rina"… This is… Nishida, did'ya get yourself a girlfriend? (Tl note: it's not……….. it's not YK1 SHINE hostess and known lesbian Rina, right? it's a different Rina……. right???)
Nishida: No, it's not that serious…! We just met when I went to a group-dating event the other day…
Nishida: Then we emailed a little… and she ended up asking me out on a date…
Goromi: Ohh~… Seems like she's into ya. What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her?
Nishida: Umm… here's a picture from the group dating.
Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along… I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating…
Goromi: ………
Nishida: …Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo?
Goromi: …Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya.
Nishida: …Y-Yeah, I think so too. I'm not even sure why she ended up contacting me at all…
Goromi: ….I got it! This situation calls for me to step in and help ya, yeah? (Tl note: Goromi is using "washi" as her personal pronoun here, which is what Majima usually uses when he's speaking as a boss, or "ore". Goromi usually goes with "watashi" but does use "ore" when Kiryu catches her off-guard)
Nishida: Eh?
Goromi: To make sure yer date goes well, I'm gonna teach ya all about a woman's heart!
Nishida: Eh…
Goromi: And I've got tooons of free time right now… aren't ya lucky~!
Goromi: Hang tight! This is gonna be "the heart of a woman: lesson 1"!
<Goromi leaves, presumably to make slides or get props or something>
Nishida: I-……… I have a bad feeling about this…
Nishida: I think my boss is just… doing something absurd to me to kill time while waiting for Kiryu-san to show up… (Tl note: lol this time it was actually -san. just gotta be EXTRA formal talking about Kiryu around Goromi, I guess)
Nishida: No… it's bad to assume. It's possible that my boss might honestly be trying to help me…
Nishida: …She said this was lesson one on a woman's heart… How many lessons is she planning?
<scene transition to later>
Goromi: …I've come~! And I've brought pleeenty of booze~! (Tl note: Goromi says お・ま・た～！ which I presume is a shortening of お待たせしました as in "sorry to have kept you waiting" but omata on its own is uh. it's vulva. it's vulva and that sort of crotch area. hence my translation of trying to get some kind of weird double entendre there)
<sound of a cork popping>
Nishida: Wh-Why are you filling that tower of glasses with alcohol…
Goromi: I thought I'd show ya how to drink. I brought a buncha different kinds.
Goromi: Sake, shochu, wine, whiskey, cocktails, plum brandy, beer, take your pick! Go on, drink whatever ya want!
Nishida: A-Alright…
Nishida: (…Boss… did say she was going to teach me about the hearts of women… so does that mean this is a test?)
Nishida: (In that case… a cocktail is probably bad… that's something a girl would pick, I think…) (tl note: NISHIDA NO DON'T LOSE TO THE TOXIC MASCULINITY)
Nishida: …Boss. I'd like a whiskey and cola to drink, please.
Goromi: Ohh… Whiskey, huh…?
Nishida: Well then… cheers.
Nishida: (The way I drink will probably also be judged… the manly way to do it is in one shot…)
<horrible gulping sounds and the glass hitting the table>
Nishida: …Thank you!
Goromi: Oooh, yer a big drinker, huh?
Goromi: Although… did ya notice anythin' strange?
Nishida: Eh? Something strange…? Now that you mention it, the taste was a little bit peculiar…
<stomach noise>
Nishida: My… my stomach's… Wh-What did you put in that, boss!?
Goromi: Dumbass! You were so complacent ya didn't even realize that thing was fulla laxatives!
Nishida: L-Laxatives!? Why did you.. guhh…
Goromi: And now ya know lesson one of how women's hearts work: "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!"
Goromi: If you're a man, ya gotta be cautious of anythin' that gets served to ya, cause ya could get poisoned!
Nishida: Th-That's… unreasonable…
Nishida: (…I think my worries were correct… She's just using me for amusement to kill some time…)
<stomach gurgling>
Nishida: Ughhh… S-Sorry… gotta… bathroom…
Goromi: …No can do. If ya wanna go to the bathroom, ya gotta beat up that guy.
Nishida: …Eh?
<footsteps>
Beefy Majima Family Member: …Sorry, Nishida no aniki. Boss says I gotta.
Nishida: Y-You…
Goromi: Now, after poisonin' ya, this ruffian's here to snatch your pretty girlfriend!
Goromi: Nishda! Endure that stomach ache 'n win! Show Goromi-chan somethin' good!
Nishida: Ughuugh… Y-Yes… boss!!!!
Beefy Majima Family Member: Well… I hope you'll forgive me, Nishida no aniki. (Tl note: I did shorten that name to "beefy member" and then reconsidered)
<fight happens>
<sounds of a toilet flushing>
Nishida: Haa… Haa… Just in the nick of time…
Goromi: Heh, ya gotta a lotta willpower to avoid havin' an accident like that, huh? Here, drink this so ya don't get dehydrated.
Nishida: Ah, some water? Thank you, Boss.
<drinking sounds>
Nishida: …What the… it's a little bitter…? Boss, what's up with this water--
<Nishida hits the ground>
Goromi: Dumbass! I just told ya, don't make it so easy to slip ya sleepin' pills like that!
Goromi: …When ya wake up, I'm gonna train ya until ya can identify every kind of poison by taste. Buckle up, buttercup.
Nishida: Uugh… uughhh… that's……. impossibleee….
<END PART 1>
[While waiting on Kiryu to finally arrive, Goromi learns of an upcoming date and uses her free time to instruct Nishida on the matters of a woman's heart.]
[After drinking poisoned booze, Nishida has learned lesson number one, "girls don't want guys who are easily poisoned".]
Nishida: (Boss… She told me to wait outside for the next lesson on a woman's heart…)
Nishida: (This lesson comes after poisoning… What sort of terrifying part of the female psyche is she going to teach…)
Goromi: I've come~ 🎶 (Tl note: yeah. yeah it's the same one. yeah)
Nishida: Ah, boss. What's the next lesson going to… be?
<Goromi appears with a whole army of goons>
Goromi: A woman's heart: lesson 2! "Obviously I like strong men 🎶"! (Tl note: this is probably the same line she says to Kiryu about her type of man, but I'm too lazy to double check OR look up what she exactly said in english)
Goromi: A man's not a real man at all if he ain't tough! Now you're gonna tussle with these guys!
Goromi: Smash up these ten opponents, and show a gal what she likes to see in a man!
Nishida: No… this is… just the boss's pastime…
Nishida: She said this was about a woman's heart… but this is more like training in a battle manga…
Goromi: Let's get it rollin'! Get it done nice 'n quick!
Goromi: Oi, everyone! No goin' easy just cause it's 10 on 1, I want everyone goin' all out against Nishida!
Majima Family Members: Roarrrrrrrr!!!!
Nishida: ….Crap… Guess there's no avoiding it…!
Nishida: Haa… Haa… (tl note: THIS WASN'T THE OBLIGATORY FIGHT? I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE FIGHT IS THERE ANOTHER??)
<a goon slides in>
Nishida: !?
<Nishida gets smacked>
Nishida: Guh…!
<A new goon slides in>
Majima Family Member A: Haa!
Nishida: Crap!
<Nishida steps away>
Nishida: Haa… Haa…
Nishida: (When there's this many opponents… while you're busy with one guy, another will circle around behind you…)
Nishida: (They're not that strong if I can take them on one by one, but I can't fight them properly when they're in my blind spots…)
Nishida: (What the hell do I do…)
Nishida: …..! That's it….!
Goromi: …Seems like ya figured it out.
Goromi: Everyone! What're ya standin' around for! Go beat the shit outta Nishida!
Majima Family Member A: Y-Yes!
<scene change>
Nishida: Yes… right here…
Majima Member A: Oi! It's too cramped to go together!
Majima Member B: Shit… this is… too narrow!
Nishida: (Yes… This narrow alleyway forces them to come down it one at a time…)
Nishida: (Since I don't have to keep watching my back, this negates their numbers advantage in close quarters.)
Nishida: …What's wrong, come at me! Otherwise it'll be the boss that's hitting you!
Nishida: …Time to go…! Nishida no aniki! Please don't hold this against me!
<actual fight time where you do indeed take on 10 goons>
Majima Member D: Gahh…
Nishida: Haa… Haa… Somehow… I won…
Goromi: Ya did it, Nishida! Now ya don't gotta be worried when ya get jumped by a buncha thugs!
Nishida: Um… I think I will still be worried…
Goromi: Well, if they really wanted ya dead they woulda done ya in the first time you stumbled…
Goromi: Eh, we'll call it good enough this time. Ya passed lesson 2 of a woman's heart, "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" !
Nishida: Th-Thank you very much…
Goromi: Now, this will be the final thing I can teach you about a woman's heart… A woman's heart: lesson 3… Are ya ready?
Nishida: Y…..Yes.
Nishida: (Next is the final one, huh…)
Nishida: (I figured that if she's just doing this to kill time, she'd get tired of these sorts of antics… but this is faster than I thought.)
Nishida: (But I can't let my guard down. Lessons 1 and 2 were seriously absurd… What on earth will lesson 3 be?)
<music changes to the more emotional soft track>
Goromi: A question for ya. Right now… what do ya think Goromi-chan wants? (Tl note: I misread it as "what do you think of Goromi-chan" at first and was like, so scared to continue. I was shook by the possibility of Goromi emotional vulnerability momence)
Nishida: …Eh?
Goromi: What's wrong? Answer already. I wanna know whatcha think I'm after.
Nishida: Eh… Well…
Nishida: (What do I say… The number one thing my boss would probably want is to fight with Kiryu-san.)
Nishida: (But, that would be way too easy for this quiz… what the hell… what is it…)
Goromi: …Figured out your answer?
Nishida: ………..
Nishida: ……Sorry, I don't know.
Nishida: I thought getting to fight Kiryu-san would be it, but… I'm not confident enough in that to commit to it.
Goromi: …Ya got it. "I dunno" is the right answer.
Nishida: Eh?
Goromi: The final lesson on women's hearts: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her".
Goromi: Every woman has her own circumstances.
Goromi: A woman who loves sweets can still have days where she wants something spicy, and there are women who will claim to hate what they actually like. (Tl note: .............................................................................hey when this is in direct response to Goromi's number one desire being a fight with Kiryu. there's. hmm.)
Goromi: So, don't look at just one aspect of a woman and think ya know everything about her, okay?
Goromi: Women are deeply complex, living beings, despite what men think. ...Got it?
Nishida: Y-Yes...! I will take your words to heart!
Goromi: ...Alright, good. I taught ya about the female psyche, so make good use of it on your date.
Nishida: Y... Yes!
Goromi: Well then, time to head back to the club. I got a feelin' that Kiryu-chan might be there soon.
<she leaves>
Nishida: While the other two were obviously farces... it feels like that last one was surprisingly genuine.
Nishida: Guess it makes sense, after she got tired of doing the absurd. But, that doesn't seem quite right... hmmm...
Nishida: Still, something to make use of on my date...
Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her" is good to keep in mind...
Nishida: But "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!" and "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" are--
Nishida: Maybe not as helpful...
<END PART 2>
[I'm skipping the recap lol but today's the day of the date]
Rina: Hehe, I thought the same thing during the group date, but talking to you is really easy, Nishida-san...
Rina: I was really nervous to ask you out, but I'm glad I gathered up the courage 🎶
Nishida: Oh, nah... I was worried we wouldn't be that good of a fit, too.
Nishida: ........
Rina: ...? What's going on? You keep looking around the perimeter. Do you have a friend here?
Nishida: Ah, no... it's nothing. Sorry, it's just nerves.
Rina: Ah, no worries then! Really, I thought it was cute, you looked like a baby animal.
Nishida: C-Cute...? Is that so...
Nishida: (I can't tell her that I'm traumatized from my boss's training, and that I'm looking for a good spot to fight a pack of thugs...)
Nishida: (Or that I'm being cautious about drinking the water brought to me in case it's been poisoned...)
Nishida: (The boss's lessons on a woman's heart... my body sure remembers them, huh... ha...)
Rina: Ah, that's right! Listen to this! I'm not making this up, the other day at the park, I saw a squirrel-- (Tl note: I thought that was just, the end of her sentence at first. she's just REALLY excited about squirrels)
<scene transition to outside>
Rina: Nishida-san, your recommendation of restaurant was delicious! I'm definitely bringing all my friends there 🎶
Nishida: I'm glad. I like going there because it's fairly cheap while still being delicious.
Rina: Cheap and delicious restaurants are the best. I feel like it being cheap makes it taste even better, you know?
Nishida: Ah, I get you! It's really a question of mood. This restaurant here is also good. There's this pork fried with ginger and grated daikon on top--
Rina: Hehe, you sure know your eateries Nishida-san. I'll have to rely on you next time I can't decide where to go eat~.
Rina: ................So...... What are you doing after this? (tl note: NISHIDA SCORES?)
Nishida: Eh? Umm... What am I doing. Maybe... getting drinks?
Rina: ...Could we go somewhere to rest a bit? There's a place where we can talk slow and relaxed. (tl note: NISHIDA GETS SCAMMED?)
Nishida: Eh? Somewhere to rest and relax? That's...
Rina: Hehe... You'll have fun if you go. Come on.
<another scene transition>
Nishida: This is... the place?
Nishida: (BAR, huh... The hallway to the bathroom would be good to use if I'm outnumbered...) (Tl note: yeah the bar is named. BAR. in english. which is just great for translating)
Nishida: (I'm still hung up on my boss's training, it really messed me up... I'm not the protagonist of a battle manga...)
Rina: What do you think? I find it very relaxing, and since it's a hole-in-the-wall kind of place there's not crowded so you can really take your time and talk. (Tl note: very funnily hole-in-the-wall is fairly direct, the jpn being 穴場 or "hole place")
Nishida: Ahh, you're right, this is a very relaxing place.
Rina: Yeah. ...Hmm? Nishida-san, did you perhaps think it was something naughty? (tl note: well I sure did)
Nishida: N-No... I-It's nothing like that...!
Rina: Hehe, no need to panic. I just said it to make you conscious of it 🎶 (Tl note: struggling with the second sentence here, it's ふふっ、 慌てなくてもいいですよ。ちょっと意識させようと思って言いましたし🎶)
Nishida: Eh...?
Muscular Bartender: ...Are you ready to order?
Rina: For me, a kahlua milk!
Nishida: Umm... How about... Barley shochu. (Tl note: 麦の水割り, which probably has a better word for it but that's my best guess)
Bartender: ...Alright. Here's your kahlua milk and barley shochu.
Rina: Well then, kanpaiii 🎶
Nishida: Ahh, kanpai! (Tl note: Nishida why do you say kanpai in full kanji you fucking dweeb)
Nishida: (I keep thinking my boss might emerge from beneath the bar, so I'm worried about this drink being poisoned...)
Nishida: (There's no way it's actually poisoned... though... hmm... there's a bitterness...)
Rina: ...? Is something wrong, Nishida-san?
Nishida: No... it's just, this tastes like the sleeping pills my boss made me take...
Bartender: ....!
Nishida: Yep... My boss made me take sleeping pills over and over, and this... tastes exactly like those sleeping pills. I don't know why it would be sleeping pills...
Rina: IIII have no idea why that would be. Right, bartender?
Bartender: ...Sir, we are an upstanding business. We don't take false accusations lightly.
Nishida: Ah, no, I didn't even say you put them in there...
Nishida: But someone could have put them in there to cause trouble for you, so the police should check the other drinks to be sure
Bartender: ....Tch. Oi.
<a bunch of thugs jump out>
Nishida: !?
Bartender: You all, this guy's making up lies about us. Shake him down for some apology money to make up for it.
Nishida: No, I'm not accusing you of anything. All I'm saying is a quick confirmation--
Bartender: You all! Get him!
Nishida: (They aren't listening... I'm getting the feeling that the sleeping pills weren't in there on accident.)
Nishida: (I'm up against 4 opponents. If they surround me I'm done for..... that's it! I just need time.)
Nishida: Rina-san! Hide in the bathroom!
Rina: Uh... r-right!
Bartender: Wait! Do you really want to hide somewhere with no exit?
Bartender: ...What's the point...? Is he going to bunker down in the hallway...
Nishida: I know there's no way out of this... Only Rina-san will be hiding.
Nishida: (This narrow corridor in front of the bathroom, it'll force them to come one at a time. This is my only way to win.)
Bartender: ...Heh... You went through all that trouble to run, only to go for a narrow hallway with no way out.
Bartender: You'll regret ever speaking a single false word about my drinks!!!!
<fight time>
Bartender: S-... stupid...
<he hits the ground>
Nishida: Haa... Haa... That was close.
Nishida: If I didn't make use of those tight quarters, I would have been a goner as soon as they got behind me.
Nishida: All thanks to that training my boss gave me on fighting multiple opponents...
Nishida: And the fact that I had to drink sleeping pilsl and laxatives so I'd know what they tasted like... that ended up being useful too.
<the door opens>
Rina: N-Nishida-san... are you okay? ...Eh!? You... beat all of them?
Nishida: Yeah... somehow, I managed it. I think we should get out of here before they wake up.
Rina: Umm, no... I'm...
Nishida: ....? What's wrong?
Rina: I-It's... it's nothing... L-Let's go.
<back outside>
Rina: ...Yeah, I had no idea it was that kind of establishment. I really never thought they would attack you and try to take your money...
Nishida: ...Hey, Rina-san. Earlier, why did you want to stay in the bar?
Rina: Eh... th-that's... well...
Nishida: .........
Nishida: ............If... If you're... an accomplice to that bar, it would be a good idea to stop doing that.
Nishida: If you keep it up... I think you'll end up in a really bad situation some day.
Rina: .....That's my choice, isn't it?
Nishida: Eh...?
Rina: ...Don't start talking like you're my boyfriend after one date! All you are to me is a source of revenue!
Nishida: R-...Rina-san?
Rina: It was me, I'm working with that bar, I took you there specifically to fuck you over! So? Happy now!?
Rina: And now you've ceased to be useful to me. ...Never contact me again.
<she leaves>
Nishida: R-Rina-san...
Nishida: ...I thought she was nice girl, too...
Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", huh. It's exactly like my boss said.
Nishida: Boss... There's no way you expected all of this to happen, right...?
Nishida: Rina-san went back to the store. I wonder... does she plan on doing the same thing again?
Nishida: .............
<END PART 3>
Bartender: Shit... What's with that helmet bastard.... (Tl note: this is when I realized this was for real in 2006 and not a typo or a timeline mistake. which also means that Goromi hostess dates with Kiryu were a recurrent thing)
<Rina enters>
Rina: ..................
Bartender: So you're back... Why the fuck did you bring such a huge pain in the ass here?
Rina: ......I already told you, this is was the last time. I'm done. Erase the photo of Keiko from your phone. (Tl note: name is 恵子 which has multiple readings)
Bartender: What was that?
Rina: The nude photo you took of Keiko and blackmailed me with! You said you'd erase it if I brought 10 people here!
Bartender: Ain't happening. I didn't get any cash from that last one. You gotta do it again.
Rina: That's bullshit! You all messed up, not me!
Rina: If you try to make me do any more I'm going to the police, so hurry up and delete the photo already!
Bartender: You really want your bestie's nude erased, huh. If so... going to the cops is going to be a problem.
Bartender: So...
<another goon slides in>
Rina: !?
Bartender: I'll just have to get a photo of you next, so that doesn't happen.
<goon grabs her>
Rina: L-Let go...!
Bartender: Just some nudity won't be enough for opposing me. We'll make an extra hard video... heheh.
Rina: N-.... No--
<the door slams open>
Bartender: !?
<a punch lands>
Strong looking man: Guh...
<he hits the floor>
Nishida: ...I heard what you said. Rina-san, you did this all to help your friend.
Rina: N-Nishida-san... Why did you come here?
Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", that's what my boss taught me.
Nishida: It was a really horrible feeling, when I thought I had been betrayed by a girl who seemed nice and kind.
Rina: ........
Nishida: But, at the same time I had another thought. Fucking me over was just one aspect of you.
Nishida: So I came here to see the whole picture and be able to understand it.
Nishida: ...I'm glad I believed what my boss taught me. I would have regretted it if I left the situation alone, thinking I understood it.
Rina: Nishida-san...
Bartender: Heh, I get to see some cheap melodrama. It's real convenient you came back here, shithead.
Bartender: I was careless last time, but it won't happen again. You're going to regret coming back to rescue that woman!!!!
Nishida: (This time I won't be able to make use of the bathroom hallway.)
Nishida: (So far I've been able to scrape by thanks to my boss's special training...)
Nishida: (But I wasn't taught anything for this situation. This will be a test of my own strength!)
Nishida: I may not have any help from my boss, but... I will protect Rina-san, with my own power!
<fight time>
Bartender: Fuck... er...
<he hits the floor>
Nishida: Haa... Haa... I... won...
<Nishida also hits the floor>
Rina: N-Nishida-san!
<and he's back up>
Nishida: ...I'll be fine... Quick, go delete... your friend's photo from his phone, please.
Rina: Ah, r-right!
<scene transition, police sirens wail>
Nishida: ...Sounds like the cops are coming.
Rina: Seems so. I'm... going to tell the police everything. I'm not going to run from my punishment.
Nishida: You only did it because you were being threatened... I'm sure the punishment won't be that harsh.
Rina: ...Nishida-san.
<she hugs him>
Nishida: ...!
Rina: ...Thank you.
Rina: My boyfriend is going to be mad that I'm saying this, but... you looked really hot... seriously, thank you. (Tl note: ohhhhhhhh I knew this wouldn't work out but RIP Nishida. he never scored)
Nishida: Eh...
<outside now>
Nishida: ...Well, I guess she really has a boyfriend.
Nishida: But, it's fine. It's not like this kind of thing is about dating.
Majima Family Member: Oh! Nishida! Are you okay!? I've been worried sick!
Nishida: ...Eh? Wh-What?
Majima Member: Lately, there's been a lot of nasty sleep-robbery bars. There was this picture of a woman floating around that we're supposed to watch out for...
Majima Member: Here, this woman. And someone saw you walking around with her, so I got worried, you know? (Tl note: bisexual rebound time?)
Nishida: This is... Rina-san!? I guess she did say she'd done that a lot, so it makes sense there would be rumors...
Majima Member: Hold on... You already knew?
Nishida: Ah, yeah... But, she's washed her hands of it all, so could you please stop circulating that photo?
Majima Member: ...Well, if you don't want me to, then I guess there's nothing more to be done.
Nishida: I'm glad... Um, did that photo possible get shown to our boss?
Majima Member: Hm? Ah, yeah he was shown it. About 3 days ago, I think.
Nishida: 3 days ago... So all those lessons about a woman's heart from yesterday were... for this.
<flashback>
Goromi: What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her?
Nishida: Umm... here's a picture from the group dating.
Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along... I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating...
Goromi: .........
Nishida: ...Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo?
Goromi: ...Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya.
<flashback over>
Nishida: (Now I understand that reaction... Boss must've realized who Rina-san was...)
Nishida: (All those lessons about a woman's heart... In the end it was what saved me.)
Nishida: (Was... all of that just so... I wouldn't get sleep-robbed...!?)
Nishida: ...Do you know where our boss is right now?
Majima Member: The boss? Pretty sure she said something about waiting for Kiryu-san at SHINE.
Nishida: Thanks.
<Nishida walks off>
Majima Member: H-Hey. Nishida! (tl note: RIP unnamed Majima Family Member, he never scored)
<now at SHINE>
Nishida: Umm... The boss is... there!
Nishida: Boss! Thank you so much! Because I kept all of your lessons in mind, the date today went perfectly!
Nishida: Boss... You knew about what Rina-san was up to, didn't you... So you secretly did all that for my sake--
Goromi: ...Ooh, Nishida! Perfect timin'!
Nishida: Eh...?
Goromi: Kiryu-chan just came to the club! The plan was a massive success!
Goromi: That surprised look on Kiryu-chan's face... Fun conversations leading to a fun fight! I had the greatest time!
Nishida: A-Ahh! Is that so! That's really great!
Nishida: So anyways boss, about what I was telling you regarding the date...
Goromi: Your date? What's that got to do with Kiryu-chan?
Nishida: Um... nothing I suppose...
Goromi: Then why would I wanna hear about dumb shit like that?
Goromi: I'm busy draftin' up a plan for my next fight with Kiryu-chan! Ya better get plannin' right away too!
Nishida: Ah, r... right... Got it.
Goromi: Hehe, my blood's already pumpin'! Now, what next to entertain Kiryu-chan~! (Tl note: "blood's already pumping" is 腕が鳴るでえ which is more literally "my arm is ringing/rumbling" or "I'm itching to put my skills to use")
<she leaves>
Nishida: (...Well, that's fine. No matter what the truth is, I'm certain that it's all thanks to my boss that I'm still alive.)
Nishida: (More importantly... I need to properly return the favor.)
Nishida: Boss! Wait up, please! I'll think of something great too!
<END>
and then here's all of Nishida's various thoughts on things from the board game:
Kiryu-no-ojiki
A man known as the Dragon of Dojima who is absurdly strong in a fight. He’s my boss’s very favorite. Only as a fighter, though...
Alcohol
Drinking alcohol is a great stress reliever! But you have to be careful not to over do it. You should drink rather than be drunk.
Boss’s High Heels
My boss wore these while working at a cabaret club and turned them into a deadly weapon. Getting kicked by them would surely kill...
SHINE
A cabaret club where my boss occasionally works as a hostess. The store has a good reputation, but the customers my boss serves must have a difficult time...
Boss
My boss. Occasionally my boss puts on a dress and works as a hostess, but there’s never been any complaints. Though, would anyone really push on that...
Butterfly Necktie
The necktie I wear while working as a waiter. It may look like a ribbon, but it’s actually very common in formal settings.
Downtown Chinpira
Is this guy running shakedowns!? Bullying the weak is something only cowards do! Guys like this need to be taught a lesson!
The Majima Family
A leading group within the Tojo Clan that's known for its violent conflicts. The family is a group of ruffians, I don't know why I ended up in it...
Majima Family Members
They're a violent and strange bunch, but if you take the time to really talk with them they’re surprisingly pleasant company. Well, they do still look scary...
Kamurocho
Painted in gaudy neon, it’s Japan’s number one entertainment district. The first time I came here, I was shocked at how many people there were.
and VERY FINALLY bonus stuff, namely the two cards! Goromi, the dreadful luck hostess, and Nishida, the mad dog’s errand boy.
this one was sooooooooooooooooooo long but also we got lore that Goromi was NOT a one-off event. which is so much more than I could have ever hoped for. I also love that Kiryu has apparently gotten the text from Nishida on multiple occasions and is shocked every time that Goromi is there waiting on him. and they still go on the date, every time
it’s not even rituals at that point they’re just using Nishida as a date coordinator with the flimsiest pretext in the world. this is that guy fighting the waffle house cook levels of pretext
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Text
— all too well.
character[s] — diluc.
theme & genre — lovers to exes, angst.
cw/tw — very toxic diluc, fighting, self-deprecation, breakups.
word count — 4.2k words.
a/n — let's play a game called, "spot the references i've made to other taylor swift songs in this fic" :D | a heartfelt apology to all diluc kissers, but no apology to diluc bc he REFUSES to come home
"diluc, what the fuck?" you spat, your face showing utter disbelief.
"what?" diluc groaned, taking off his coat and setting it on the rack, "what is it now?"
"what do you mean!? did you not hear what the hell your colleagues were telling about me?" you raised a brow, crossing your arms while you leaned against the doorframe.
"what did they say?" diluc paid no heed, his face devoid of any empathy as he poured himself a glass of water.
"don't act like you weren't there." you clenched your fists, gritting your teeth. "they were making fun of me."
"you're simply overreacting." he furrowed his brows.
you and diluc had been dating for seven whole years. isn't that insane? seven years in heaven, yet these days, it started to seem more like hell.
maybe you had been ignorant of all your problems for seven years, or diluc recently had a massive shift in his attitude towards you.
he treated you like a deity before, now he treated you like you were a job. like you were an obligation.
you went out for dinner with diluc's colleagues tonight, hoping it could be a nice change for you both. diluc and you had both been busy with your own things for the past few weeks, and you hoped this dinner could help you both bond.
but instead it drove you both apart even more.
"did you not fucking hear what they said? 'oh, i thought y/n had so much of experience with guys, but i was pretty shocked to find out they were often simple flings with no significance. i was surprised when she started dating you, though, i didn't think you liked girls like her' meant? huh? am i not allowed to date other people?"
"and how does that imply they were making fun of you? to me it sounds like they're just thinking about our relationship, normally."
maybe that's how you ended up in an argument with your significant other, who didn't seem to think you were significant at all. your opinion didn't matter as long as diluc had his way.
"it implies that i don't put in any effort into my relationships, diluc. it says that i go around sleeping with every man i meet. you of all people should know that that's not true." you clenched your fist, "they shouldn't be thinking about my relationship, i should. you didn't say a word to defend me."
"god, y/n, what if they were right?"
"excuse me?" your eyes widened in disbelief. "what did you just say?"
"what if they were right?" he raised his voice, standing up. he slammed the glass down on the kitchen counter, and you flinched, and noticed a small crack appear in the glass. "what if you're not putting in any effort for us? i have to do every damn thing. i need to make time for you, do you know how big of a deal that is?"
you were shocked, to say the least. where was this sudden outburst coming from? honestly, was he even listening to you right now? was he listening to himself? he sounded absurd, it was like you didn't know him anymore.
"wow, okay, if making time for your girlfriend is such a nuisance for you, then how wonderful would it be if you didn't have one at all?!" you shouted, gritting your teeth as the words left your mouth.
diluc didn't spare a second in bouncing back, as if he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, and he didn't need to think twice.
"yeah, that sounds pretty nice right about now, y/n." diluc let out a laugh, "it sounds pretty fucking nice."
your throat went dry. you felt your heart shatter. it was as if your world came crumbling down onto you, you didn't expect for him to agree with you.
at a loss for words, you sharply inhaled to stop tears from falling. you felt immense anger at first, but for some reason, when he admitted that, your anger disappeared. it was replaced by hurt.
in your storm of emotions, in your speechlessness, all you could manage to utter was a broken, pathetic, "fine."
and you turned around and left out the door, grabbing your coat. you stopped there, in the doorway for a second.
just a second. one second, diluc. that's all you wanted to give him. cause no matter how much he hurt you, you still had that wretched thing in you.
hope.
you had hope, god, you had faith that diluc would call your name, apologise, you both could make it up to each other, you would apologise, and-
wait, what were you even apologising for?
well, one thing was certain when you didn't hear his voice call out to you.
diluc ragnvindr, for the first time in the seven years you had known him, betrayed your faith.
it had been two weeks since the fight that night. two goddamn weeks. not a single call, not a single text, not a single glance was spared for you from diluc. it was as if you didn't exist anymore.
he probably wished you didn't.
yeah, sure, couples often have their fights, their arguments. but in the end, they meet in the middle and talk it out.
but what could you do when there was nothing more left to say? when every cruel claim had been made already? when it was too late?
daylight hit your drawn curtains, itching to be let into your room, but you refused.
the light hurt your eyes, you'd much rather prefer to be in the darkness of your bedroom, with the only light being diluc's contact on your phone.
it baffled you how someone could pamper you and give you all their affection one moment, then completely disregard you the next. you threw your phone on your pillow, collapsing onto the bed. his words played on loop in your mind.
you wanted to cry, you really did. but the tears refused to come out, you wouldn't cry for him. especially when diluc probably doesn't feel an ounce of guilt for everything he said that night.
your phone buzzed, and you jumped to see what the notification was. your frown immediately turned into a smile when you saw diluc's name.
you picked up the call, and bated your breath.
"y/n. let's talk."
wow, couldn't he have even said hello? just cutting straight to the chase. he sounded so... demanding that it made you feel like you're the one at fault, and you owe him an apology.
"you finally came around, huh? two weeks and now you wanna apologise?" you grit your teeth, awaiting his response.
"who said i'm apologising?"
what?
"what do you... what do you mean- " you started, but paused when you heard diluc sigh.
"just come to good hunter at 2 o'clock. i'll buy you something." he hung up, not even allowing you to speak any further.
you had no choice but to listen to his bullshit.
you were seated across diluc. in silence. painful silence.
perhaps even the waitress at good hunter, who was waiting at your table, could sense it. you would've felt bad for her, but right now, you pitied yourself even more.
he looked so... dignified. he looked like he was in a completely different world from you, you felt small and meaningless compared to him. you hated it, you hated feeling that kind of worthlessness.
who knew? the same diluc who showed you the stars and showered you with fake niceties, now stole away all of that praise he'd once given.
"two black coffees." he stated, and the waitress scurried away with the order.
"you know, i can order too right? i know how to speak, thank you very much." you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair.
diluc frowned, "i don't want to spend too much time here, let's just get this done with."
"alright, what did you wanna say to me, that isn't an apology?" you furrowed your brows, emphasising the fact that he still owed you one.
you didn't expect diluc to utter the words you had been dreading. the words that would absolutely tear you apart.
"let's break up."
you thought time came to an abrupt stop. the world stopped. your world stopped.
no.
no, no, no, no, please no.
"...what?" you almost choked, biting your lip to stop it from quivering. "you're serious?"
please, diluc, no.
"you heard me, let's break up." he wasn't even asking you, he was just demanding it. "this isn't working anymore."
this isn't working anymore, you almost would've laughed if you weren't on the brink of breaking down.
"it isn't working because you refuse to do anything from your end. you're so fucking entitled, you think you have the right to treat me like fucking shit-!" you started, your frustration seeping through your words.
"we're in public, calm down for god's sake." he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"so that's why you called me here? in public, so i wouldn't make a scene, and just quietly accept whatever you're telling me?"
"why do you always twist my intentions? i called you here because it's a place we both can go to easily. i didn't want to bring you to my place, if i was gonna break up with you anyway." diluc massaged his forehead, letting out a groan. "we're over."
he was so cruel. so, so, utterly cruel.
didn't this hurt him too? why did he look so unfazed? did he never love you to begin with...?
no, that can't be true. you rememeber diluc from years ago. he was so kind, so loving. what happened to him? why did he change?
questions revolved in your head, all left unanswered when diluc willed it. he was always in charge. you were just some pathetic pawn for him, just a tool with no emotions.
"my world revolved around you for seven years, diluc. how do you expect me to throw it all away?" tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, unable to grasp the sudden news. "if we had just tried to love each other-"
diluc's harsh tone suddenly changed into a soft one, as he said, "i don't think we should be trying to love each other, y/n." he sounded guilty, almost.
almost.
you hated that word. it reminded you of a future that could've been.
"that's all i had to say to you." he claimed, "if it makes you feel better, i'm sorry."
"i don't want your fucking pity apology, diluc." you let out a scoff, "i want my seven years i wasted on you. i want them back. can you do that for me?"
"you know i can't-"
"i thought you were pretty accomplished, though? master diluc, the king of the wine industry. a strategist, a business tycoon, a master manipulator," you waved your arms around, "i never understood that last one until now."
"enough." diluc narrowed his eyes.
"yeah, enough. i've had enough." you got up, almost crashing into the waitress who was bringing your black coffee. the one you didn't even want.
it would've been childish to take the cup of black coffee and throw it on diluc. it would've been dramatic and badass though, maybe you should've done that.
but you would've felt guilty about it, later. even if diluc hurt you, you would've probably thought that was too far.
fuck, why did you care? he went too far too. and he didn't apologise for it, he never felt guilty. why did you?
that really said a lot about your relationship with him, huh?
it had been exactly seven hours since you and diluc broke up. you watched as the clock struck hour nine, minute five, exactly seven hours from your break up.
you didn't know what else you were supposed to do except count every second.
lifelessly, you stared at your bedroom ceiling. you inhaled deeply, glancing towards your phone screen.
9:06, no messages.
nothing.
maybe it was wrong of you to expect something in the first place. but could you blame yourself? you loved him desperately, and the only thing you wanted was that love to be returned. you had to fight the irrational urge to call him first.
the sun went down, and your love died.
you kept your phone aside, getting up to clean your room. your head hurt seeing the terrible state of your bedroom, clothes thrown around, papers falling from drawers and the table.
sitting down, exasperated, you started folding your clothes to distract yourself from your grief.
your mind was silent, you were too tired to think anything. you were too tired to utter another word.
in your heart, you knew you were just waiting for your phone to ring, and diluc's name to show up on the caller ID.
but in your heart, you also knew that it wouldn't happen.
your eyes couldn't help but wander to one of the corners in your room in which, tucked away safely, sat a carboard box. you held you breath in contemplation.
arguments were drowned out by silence, and you got up, and took out the box. opening it, your eyes focused on the collection of small trinkets and notes.
on top was a picture of you and diluc, the one you had taken on your first date. there was a note attached, with the date and diluc's handwriting, "first date, liuli pavillion."
your mind was blank, you didn't know what to think. should you smile at those fond memories, or frown cause it's gone forever? should you let out a laugh at how gullible you were, or cry because you're still gullible, and worse, probably, if you still had hope.
you found a few cassettes thrown around in the mix, labelled with the names of cliche love songs, and a "to y/n, my beloved" or "to diluc, my dearest" written.
you chose to laugh at your own incredulity. it came out pained, weak. tired.
tied with a worn-out rubber band, you saw a stack of small papers, with affirmations written on them. before diluc headed out to work, he used to write you little notes to keep you company in his absence.
adelinde probably helped him put those around the house. it ranged from simple, mundane things like "finish two bottles of water today, you can't keep forgetting", to essays and paragraphs about how much he adored you. you valued both of them equally, they really made your day.
and those notes that made you grin back then, now make you break out into a pitiful sob. you thought to yourself, you were pathetic.
it hurted so much. you couldn't explain it, but it was eating you whole. you made him your temple, your world revolved around diluc solely for seven years. now that he was gone, you didn't know what else you had left. what responsibilites, what obligations and commitments did you have now?
the gods hated you, you thought. diluc hated you too, probably. you hated yourself even more.
maybe going out for drinks wasn't a good idea. you thought it could get your mind off things, but instead, you were running straight to the problem.
you called diluc.
"diluc," you slurred, holding onto the coffee table. "i miss you."
your house was a mess, with things thrown around, a broken vase lying on the floor from when you bumped into it a few seconds ago. you got drunk, despite being a lightweight. you just needed to get your mind off everything.
but even in your subconcious, you still came back to him. that's what you hated most. and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to call your ex.
you could hear diluc's steady breathing from the other end of the line. he didn't respond to you, instead choosing to ask a question.
"...are you drunk?"
"no," you chuckled, "i just miss you." you were starting to have a splitting headache, so you crashed onto your sofa. you accidentally collided with the lamp next to it, and hurt your arm.
you let out a groan of pain, and diluc asked you, worry evident in his tone, "y/n?! are you fine?"
"not really..." you replied, feeling your eyes close as you dozed off in deep slumber, he could hear your soft snoring. he hung up.
around 10 minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, but you couldn't get up to answer it. diluc opened the door, mumbling a, "god, you forgot to lock the door? what if i hadn't come?"
he rushed to your side, calling your name. "y/n, look at me." he asked, and you grabbed his hand, eyes meeting his.
"you're really here... diluc? or am i hallucinating.." you mumbled, struggling to keep your eyes open. "i'm so mad at you."
diluc's throat went dry, and he spoke, "i know."
"i really want to hate you."
"i know."
"but i can't find it in me to hate you, for some reason. i'm just really frustrated at you, for treating me this way." you gripped on his clothes, shaking. "you're the worst person i've ever known."
"i know. i'm sorry." was all he could say, as he gently wrapped an arm around your back, trying to carry you.
"you're not sorry." you replied, with a hint of sobriety. diluc couldn't respond, he didn't know how. he silently carried you to your bedroom, slowly placing you on your bed.
"it didn't hurt as much as i thought it would, when you broke up with me. in that moment, i was just angry." you confessed, "but after a few days, it hit me. the realisation that you won't be there when i wake up anymore."
he didn't know what else to say. diluc didn't even know why he came running to your house.
he wasn't in love anymore. it was over for him. it would be an overstatement to say he cared, too.
maybe it was pity.
but that made him sound heartless.
maybe he was.
"i was so angry at you, i thought i never wanted to see you again." you frowned. "but when my anger faded, and i felt grief instead, i wanted to come back."
"why?" he asked.
"i wanted to come back because i loved you." you raised your voice, still keeping your calm.
diluc paused, not knowing what to say. he pressed his lips into a firm line, "i guess we've found another thing we can't agree on anymore."
"get some rest." he whispered. it was definitely the effects of the alcohol you had that night, but diluc almost seemed kind. you felt like you were in the past again.
why were you still clinging onto what was long gone? it was just you. he had moved on. you should too. though it was easier said than done.
maybe, just for tonight, you'd let yourself mourn your love that died. the love that would've, could've, and should've been something beautiful.
you sat with diluc on a park bench. your scarf was tightly wrapped around your neck, and you shuddered, feeling the cold air brush past your face.
"aren't you cold?" was the first thing you said to break the silence.
"no." diluc replied.
"ah, well, i shouldn't be surprised. for some reason, you never used to get cold." you let out a small laugh, "you're like a walking heater."
"is that why you liked to hold onto me?" he spoke, gaze fixated on the concrete street, as if it was far more interesting than you. "you would say, 'you're warm'. i thought it was just an excuse for you to get hugs."
"it was." you smiled. "i just wanted to hold you, to make sure you were real."
"did you wish i wasn't?" diluc asked, meeting your eyes for the first time in the last ten minutes. "when we had that fight, i mean."
"which one, diluc?"
diluc felt a pang of regret cut through his heart.
"the one we had after we had dinner with my colleagues." he inhaled sharply, shuddering as he breathed out. it wasn't because of the cold, maybe just because of how nervous he was feeling, or because of how he was just a few words away from letting tears roll down his cheeks.
"i always wanted you to be real, 'luc. no matter how hurt i was, i always hoped you'd come back. if it was a dream, i hoped i'd never wake up." you fiddled with your fingers, your cheeks red. "i guess i thought that... if we loved each other, then we'd always come back to each other."
silence engulfed the air, suffocating you both. gripping at your necks, but your pride was too strong to let you beg for mercy, too strong to let you both tear each other apart.
you were too mature for that, now, weren't you? you both had grown up, you couldn't let your emotions handle you. but sometimes, you wished you were a teenager again so you could forget about maturity, and scream, shout, cry, and yell at diluc, telling him how much he had hurt you.
"i... i'm... i don't know what to say, except, i'm so-" diluc began, but you knew what he had to say.
and you didn't want to accept it. so you chose to not hear it at all.
"diluc. snow." you looked up to the sky, and he paused.
you watched the snow glisten in the sky, in pretty shapes that crystalised in the sky.
fog hazed over the night skies of mondstadt, and soft flurries of snow quickly rushed to the ground. they started to group together on the ground. white specks drifted in the winds, frigid air bellowing as you shivered.
you felt a wave of warmth rush through your body as diluc put a hand on yours in an attempt to warm you. in that moment, you couldn't help but think how he'd wrap you in his arms before. it just wasn't the same as it was.
"i feel happy," you murmured, tears rolling down your cheeks. "so happy."
diluc didn't have it in him to look at you.
you were close to accepting it all, though. all the heartbreak, all the tears and lonely nights spent agonising.
you would accept all the bad times, just like the good ones.
it would just... take a while. you couldn't move on that fast. the would was so deep that it would take time to heal, but in the end, it would, nevertheless, heal.
if you had been sent an invitation to diluc's wedding a year ago, when he broke up with you, you wouldn't have attended. you would've cursed them out of spite.
but it had been a year since you two broke up. since you wrapped up the heartache. so when diluc's wedding invitation was sent to you in your mail, you smiled.
that's how you ended up at the venue of this momentous occassion, though arguably his bride-to-be was not all that happy about having you here.
i mean, you dated diluc longer than she had known him.
and maybe diluc dragging you away to a secluded corner was seemingly innapropriate behaviour at his wedding, but diluc (for once) did not care about what other people thought. he needed to talk to you.
you weren't that interested in anything he had to say. he had told you everything already, even the most hurtful of words.
still, guilt doesn't let you end things to make peace with yourself. and it seemed, this same guilt was eating at him.
"i'm sorry, y/n." diluc held your hand tightly, his voice low.
"careful, you wouldn't wanna get caught being handsy with another woman at your wedding, no?" you laughed, letting go of his hand. "i've forgiven you, diluc. not because i excuse whatever you put me through, but because i want to move on from you."
you looked at diluc's bride.
"... congratulations, diluc. she's beautiful." you smiled, cheeks warm.
a beautiful fool.
diluc felt his breath hitch, and he nodded, "yeah. thanks."
it was time for the ceremony, so diluc left you, once again. just like all the times before.
but the only difference was, it didn't hurt as much this time.
he had found happiness.
and you told yourself, you could too. without him.
you were over diluc. for real, this time. no going back.
he wouldn't look at you the way he used to, he won't hold you the way he used to. that love dissipated into thin air, like it never existed.
you had accepted it, though. it was over. your relationship with him would never come back. but it was terribly beautiful while it lasted, ingraved in your memories. your love in the shade of golden.
published on; 24th may, 2023.
writing belongs to @/vellichxrr6782 on tumblr.
#[🔖 vellichxrr writes ]#genshin diluc#genshin impact diluc#diluc ragnvindr#diluc#diluc angst#diluc x y/n#diluc x reader#diluc ragnivindr x reader#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin angst#genshin impact#diluc x you#diluc headcanons#diluc imagines
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nine.
warning; 😥 0.8k words.
masterlist.
“i still can not believe you went on a date with yeonjun. i think i’m crying actual tears.”
“you’re so dramatic, we were just hanging out,” you roll your eyes for what must’ve been the third time in the same phone call, “anyway i’ll talk to you later.”
you had been a nervous wreck all day, having spent it with the choi yeonjun. but despite your awkward self, yeonjun kept you comfortable in every way possible. conversation with the man was light heartedly and easy, allowing you to be as much as yourself as possible.
something you haven’t been able to do in awhile.
but as nervous as you were earlier, you were feeling ten times worse now, ironically standing right in front of heeseung’s apartment door. you didn’t want to be here but you knew you had to, to deal with this issue that shouldn’t have been one to begin with.
to end things before you found yourself deeper in this toxic one sided bullshit.
*knock knock*
a few moments pass before the door swings opened, revealing your fuck buddy in his usual home wear. a white shirt and some black shorts.
“heeseung... are you okay?”
“i’m fine.”
your heart drops to not only the sight of him but also his harsh voice. his drowsy eyes and reddened nose tells you that he’s anything but fine, the man evidently unwell compared to how you saw him just last night at the party. hitting up those girls.
“okay...” your voice trails off as you scan over his face, worry automatically dawning you, “have you eaten? taken some medication?”
“i’ve been sleeping all day.”
“it’s almost 8pm hee, you need to eat and i don’t mean take out.”
the man looks stunned at your words for a moment but nonetheless, steps aside, indirectly inviting you inside. and you enter without a second thought.
while heeseung disappeared to somewhere, you rummage through his cupboards for anything to whip up a quick meal with. perhaps you were doing more than you should’ve for him but despite your last night’s revelations, your heart still broke seeing heeseung the way that he was.
you were so used to the lee heeseung that everyone gawked at no matter where he went, the lee heeseung who was the main character in every setting and the man who charmed his way through anything and everything. yet here he was, barely able to open his eyes. entirely vulnerable for once.
“hey hee, come eat.”
the man appears before you all in two seconds, looking even worse than he did earlier and it killed you.
“can you please wear more than just a shirt? you’re sick heeseung,” you blurt out without much thought, only to have the man stare at you as if you’ve just said the most absurd thing in the world. “w- what?”
he shakes his head and begins eating, while you’re left to awkwardly watch him from across the kitchen bench.
it’s weird to say the least, how quickly things could change between you and him. just a week ago, the man would’ve been all over you the moment you stepped through that front door but here you were, standing in the middle of his apartment, 1 hour later, untouched and fully clothed.
it's as though you could feel the change, the weird tension in the air thick and suffocating. the look in his eyes, the way he spoke to you, it had become different. you guess it was really telling, a clear indication that this was coming to an end.
that you and him were back to being no more than strangers.
“is that a new dress? i haven’t seen it before.”
“uh yeah-” you mutter, having been caught off guard by his sudden question. you want to tell the truth, that this dress was for your date with yeonjun today but the chaos it could potentially bring was just not something you wanted to deal with right now. “anyway hee... i wanted to talk to you about something.”
“hm?”
apart of you wants to just blurt it out, to get it over and done with. because you have every right to. but the sight of him, barely able to look up at you has you second guessing your initial plan.
“you know what, we can talk another day. i’m gonna go, get some rest hee. call me when you get better.”
the man looks like he was about to say something but you don’t give him the chance, quickly grabbing your bag and heading for the door. as much as you have your heart set on ending things, you know for a given fact that you’re just as weak as ever being around him.
so run girl, run.
“do you want to stay? it’s late. i’ll drive you home tomorrow.”
gulp.
your poor heart is beating faster with every step that he took towards you, his towering presence one you’ve always felt even from a mile away. you knew it was now or never, before he does something to change your mind. lee heeseung was an expert at this.
“actually heeseung,” you turn around to face him now, eyes going up to meet his gaze that’s already on you, “i came tonight to tell you... i don’t want to do this anymore. lets end this friend with benefits.”
end.
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Exam stress
Minnie x Reader
Length: 2.1k
Nicha notices how hard you're studying and gives you comfort for the exhaustion.
Note: Minnie's real name is Nicha Yontararak
Dedicated to @svndaysaweek
You were sitting on your desk, frowning, with a hand on your face to prevent exhaustion from planting your nose flat on the desk. Your eyes were burning, your eyelids felt heavy, your back was giving up on you, and the engines inside your brain were too filled with rust to function properly.
Late-night study sessions were the norm for most students, especially if the competition was high. But it was all easy and done with the help of a coffee and the incoming threat. The problem was doing it for a week straight. At this point, coffee didn’t work anymore and the only thing keeping you awake was pure willpower. You knew the finals were near and you were terrified, you couldn’t stop now.
Nicha knew something was wrong. She briefly wondered if it was just her impression but really she just noticed all those minor differences in your behavior—you started talking to her less, compressing your conversations into tiny paragraphs, your movements got more sluggish, and your brightness seemed to fade away.
She wasn’t worried about you cheating, losing feelings, and whatnot. Her first guess was your health. But then she remembered what you told her weeks ago: “Nicha, the finals are coming so I’ll have to study a lot more. Sorry, I’ll make up for it when they’re finished, okay?”
Nicha walked down the corridor and into your room.
“Baby…how’s the studying going?” she asked softly, barely touching your shoulder. “I know math makes you feel like you want to rip your eyes out…”
You didn’t answer at first. You didn’t really hear her—it took you a moment to register her voice.
“Hey, sweetheart? How’s it going? Definitely see more writing in that notebook…” Nicha made another attempt, putting her head closer to you to look at your desk.
It was because you turned around and looked at Nicha, that you finally noticed the dark sky out of the window and realized how late it was. She looked at you, a bit surprised at your furious eyes and crooked frown. Your expression wasn’t as contorted as it looked, but the dark circles stepped it up a notch.
“Why are you looking at me like that…?” she whispered with hesitation.
You let out a loud growl, turning around and ripped away a page of your notebook. Whatever. You didn’t need those, they came out all wrong anyways. You were going insane. You studied math all afternoon: you got most of them right at the start but as time went on, you kept making more mistakes and now they were all wrong. What was even more frustrating was how stupid the errors were.
“Oh, oh, okay. Erm…baby?” Nicha stumbled, trying to find the right words.
You sighed and shoved your face in your hand for the nth time to scrap the tiredness out of your skin.
“Sweetheart, are you…are you mad at ME? If I need to give you space, I will, I just…”
“No, no, it’s not you Nicha,” you finally spoke up.
“No? Okay. Are you frustrated?”
“Yeah… sorry, Nicha, I kinda snapped. It all kinda stacked up—the exercises look impossible, studying the same subjects for days is so tiring, the news of the test are making more and more scared, I really need to study more, to get more of them right, I—”
“It’s okay baby,” she shut you up, placing a hand on your nape. You closed your lips and listened to her voice. If it wasn’t for her, you’d just be raging even more and tire yourself uselessly. “You don’t have to explain—I get it. Math wasn’t my….best subject either.”
“There’s this thing where I need to compute this thing and I need all sort of tricks. I probably have to see it like a convolution or something…”
“Uhhh… What the hell is that?” Nicha’s honest reply made you chuckle. Your words really sounded absurd.
“That sounds super complicated. And by the looks of those weird things on your laptop, it is. Who invented this shit?”
“We all have to do it though,” you said, defeated.
Nicha sighed. “No, no, you’re right. But why don’t we come up with a plan for this, hmm? You’re just studying for hours on end without rest, it surely won’t be effective.” Nicha took your hand and pulled you up from your chair, pulling you to the bed. You didn’t say anything and followed her. She sat down against the wall and back hugged you like a huge stuffed animal, keeping you warm and comfy.
“So how much stuff do you have to know for this exam?”
“Well, I have language first with all the reading, literature and writing. Then math, the basics are okay but then there is calculus, probability and geometry, which is so hard. Then there are the other subjects like physics, geography and history—I think it’s manageable, I just have to memorize.”
“Mhmm. Okay. And how much time do you have before the exam?”
“Next month,” you said and buried your face on your knees from desperation. Nicha noticed it and hugged you tighter, placing her hands under your chest and keeping her body glued to your back. For a moment, your muscles relax and all the built up stress dissipated. You let her cuddle you, which she was really enjoying.
“Starting studying early. Good job, so let’s divide this up…”
“8-10 hours a day should be good.”
“No, no. Baby that’s too much for one day.”
“It’s the bare minimum, Nicha, I won’t be able to remember anything if I don’t—”
“Don’t argue with me. You already know it’s not going to work. Look at you, you can barely stand up, you’ll end up in the hospital before you can even attend the test. You have to sleep and get rest or the subjects will just drip out of your ears and you will forget them.”
“I need to study more.”
“I KNOW you need to study,” Nicha sighed. “Baby, you’ve been going for so long I bet you’re not even retaining any information right now. You’re just making yourself more frustrated.”
“I guess you’re right, maybe that’s why I am making so many mistakes… I’m a bit sleepy actually.”
Nicha raised her face and looked at the clock. 1 AM. “…jeez, baby. You little sneak! You distracted me. I had NO idea it was THIS late. You need to sleep.”
Before you could say anything, your stomach spoke for you, letting out a low rumble. You blushed and shrinked in Nicha’s embrace. She just chuckled at your action but immediately turned serious, pinching her eyebrows. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet, did you?”
“No…” you said quietly.
“You damn— fine, let’s go eat something. There are still some cup noodles in the drawer.”
Nicha got up, and jumped off the bed. Feeling her warmth leave your back was a bit disheartening but you really had to go eat because the hunger was killing you. As soon as you stepped down the bed, you felt light-headed, realizing Nicha was right and you pushed yourself too hard.
Your girlfriend was already putting water in the boiler and taking the cups out.
You smiled and looked at her, slowly stepping into the kitchen. She looked so focused on getting everything. Her big t-shirt flowing around, matching her striped long pyjama pants, she looked comfy with her hair tied up in a messy bun.
You were lucky to have her caring for you.
When this hell was over, you’ll have to find a good date place and really spoil her.
“Hey, don’t just stand there, come help me.”
“I’m coming,” you said and followed her.
As the kettle finally clicked off, signaling the water was ready, Nicha held the cups steady. You carefully poured the hot water into each cup, the steam rising in a warm, fragrant cloud. The noodles quickly softened. You closed the lids, after putting in the seasoning mix, and waited for a few moments.
Nicha got the kimchi out and placed some plump pieces of cabbage on a plate.
You tried to ask her about her day but Nicha was more focused on you and wanted you to rant, at least for now. She insisted on asking more about you and gave you time to think and speak. She looked at you with a smile, her eyes didn’t leave you for even one second.
“School is so stressful… and although everyone tells me it will be better in uni, I don’t really believe them.”
“Oh, I know, I know. I know school is so stressful. It’s like a full-time job you’re not getting paid for.”
“If I can get a good score, I’ll get into a good uni. Only then, I’ll be able to rest.”
“I know your studies are important to you. And I’m really proud of you for that. You worked really hard and I can’t be anything else but proud. But frankly, it makes me a little sad when you hole yourself up to study all the time instead of going out from time to time.”
“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” you confessed.
“No, no, I’m not disappointed. I love you the way you are. I know you still care about me and I always see it. Whenever you can, you always buy food for me, you listen to all the bullshit I have to say, your messages…” Nicha stopped herself before she’d get lost in her ranting. “I’m not going to tell you that grades aren’t important because I know it’s really important for you, but I just hope you don’t get too lose in your studies and forget about yourself.”
You finished your noodles by distracting yourself with jokes and stories, Nicha always had something interesting to say. You didn’t go outside much these days and neither did your friends because of the preparation for the exam, so you could only tell her about what you saw on the internet but you could still make her laugh.
You took turns to brush your teeth and wash your face in the bathroom, while Nicha was putting everything away. You walked to your desk and looked at the notebook. Just one quick look won’t do you any harm, you could look at the notes once more to make sure they really sticked. You sat down and flipped through the pages back to the start.
When Nicha entered the room, she yelled, “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m just… I’m just reviewing a little bit. I’m not going to study anymore,” you said with guilt, the guilt of someone that just betrayed the person that trusted you the most.
“I just saw you yawn. We both know you wanna sleep.”
Nicha got a hold of you between her arms to convince you to get up. You tried to resist but she was so persistent that you couldn’t resist much longer. You quickly put everything away and went on the bed, with Nicha joining you.
Her hair flowed gently over her shoulders, and her eyes radiated warmth and tenderness as she looked at you. Sensing your need for comfort, the girl extended an inviting hand. You accepted the gesture, and you moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed, facing each other.
Their eyes locked, and the girl gently wrapped her arms around the boy, pulling him close into an embrace. Their bodies molded perfectly together, and the world seemed to disappear as you held each other. Everything that happened that week and everything that worried you about the future. She could feel the tension in our body, the weight of your worries, and she knew she needed to help you.
She began to softly whisper sweet nothings into his ear, her breath warm against his skin. "I’m really proud of you," she murmured, her voice like a gentle lullaby. "You're stronger than you know, and I care about you more than words can express."
As they cuddled, the girl's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, moving with a gentle, rhythmic motion. Each stroke seemed to wash away a bit of your worries, replacing them with a sense of security and belonging. She pressed tender kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, and finally, your lips, conveying her love and affection without the need for words.
With each passing moment, your tension gradually melted away, and you began to relax in the girl's arms. Her comforting embrace and loving words acted as a soothing balm. And the weight on your back finally slipped away.
You laid on the bed with her and slowly started to drift away until you fell asleep.
THE END
Written, 24 September 2023
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