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luv4fushi · 4 months

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omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

797 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

Text

NO MORE GAMES

A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“I’m not, this is truly the end.”

Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.

You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?

Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later.

Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.

You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.

“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.

It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.

“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”

“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”

“You’re not even reading their bio!”

“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”

You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.

Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area.

To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.

It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard.

The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.

Harry.

The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.

He is definitely your type.

He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.

He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.

One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking.

Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?

HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile.

You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.

Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.

HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?

You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.

You give him your number.

You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try?

Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.

You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.

You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life.

As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.

Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.

“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.

“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.

“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”

“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”

“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.

You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent.

��Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.

You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.

When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.

Y/N: Thanks for nothing.

And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.

The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now.

You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.

Yet.

It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.

You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know.

“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”

Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.

“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”

Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.

Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.

You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.

“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him.

“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”

Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence.

“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.

“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”

He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.

He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages.

“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”

The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation.

It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.

A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself.

“Can I at least try to explain myself?”

The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it.

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”

“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”

“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”

“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”

You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad.

And he really looks way too good.

“Alright. Apology accepted.”

He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.

“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.

“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”

Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur.

You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other.

A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact.

Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.

With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires.

As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.

The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.

It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different.

While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”

“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.

“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view.

“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.”

The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.

“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.

“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”

And with that, you stroll out of the office.

Y/N one, Harry zero.

You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his.

And of course because you love him.

Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own.

Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything.

You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.

Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside.

It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him.

The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.

First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog.

Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now.

You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.

“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”

“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.

“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”

“Alright.”

With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?

It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.

Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.

“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”

Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.

It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.

“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.

“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work.

“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue.

You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.

“Is this supposed to be punishment?”

“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.

“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.

“Pink looks good on you!”

He did not joke when he said he would play along.

So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well.

He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other.

You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably.

It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is.

The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date.

Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea.

She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game.

You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up.

When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game.

You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.

Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.

And then you just wait.

For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.

Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???

Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.

HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.

You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire.

His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that?

Got it, sir.

Or maybe…

Don’t tell me what to do.

Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking.

You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to.

A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room.

“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug.

“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.

You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months.

“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry.

A lot has happened since then.

You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then.

“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.

“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile.

“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts.

“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”

“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.

“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”

Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain.

“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown.

“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”

Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.

“Holy shit, he really is hot!”

“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”

“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”

Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his.

Then your phone lights up with a text from him.

HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.

“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible.

“Is he jealous?”

“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.

Y/N: And what if it is?

His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.

HARRY: It better not be.

Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.

“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.

While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while.

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.

The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.

“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.

“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.

“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”

“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out.

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.

“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat.

“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind.

HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.

“No more games.”

“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.

“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible.

Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth.

“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”

All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy.

“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.

“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you.

All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.

And you love every moment of it.

It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.

“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”

His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.

When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.

You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.

“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”

You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.

“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.

“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.

“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.

“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.

“Okay, I approve.”

You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.

“Should we talk about this after?”

“I can come over when you get home.”

“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”

“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.

The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad.

The news that you and Harry are together.

He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.

Absurd.

Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.

“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it.

“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.

“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks.

“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.

“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”

You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.

Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.

“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”

Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.

“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.

“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly.

“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

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darqx · 7 months

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Hi I understand if you don't reply, but I was wondering if you have any advice to beginners who want to start making their ocs a reality? (Like in the sense of having Charecters that have been in your thoughts for a while, but it's hard to encapsulate them into physical form?) As I have some that id like to make either into a game or comic but I'm a little stuck..

Also I'm curious if there will be any other content with the best boy himself rire?? : 0

Hullo! Ah, (physically) designing characters, how fun ❤️ - there is part of a reason why I only have a handful of them lol XD; ANYWAY here are three things that help me, so hopefully they can help you as well :)

(I'll use Demon!Rire as an example as unless you are an old guard of mine, he will probably be the most recognisable of my characs.)

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

❓What do you know about them?

First of all since you already have your character in mind, congratulations you are most of the way there already! It's helpful to know the general vibe of them. And I don't mean the super detailed things that may arise from like..."Get to know your OC" quizzes - we are more looking for the core feeling of a character here. If you dumped this character into different AUs what things are going to stay the same/similar? Some things you should consider are:

What is their personality like? Why do they do the things they do?

Do I already have any physical traits for them in mind? Hair/eye/skin colour? Body type? Age? Name??

📝 Write a simple paragraph or some dot points about your character with these things in mind.

---EXAMPLE---

Sophisticated and charming, Rire outputs an aura of power and elegance. His pleasing physical appearance and gentlemanly demeanour usually enchants or commands people. Realistically, he is extremely manipulative and sadistic, and finds entertainment in the reactions of others.

---/EXAMPLE---

🤔 Make informed choices

Ok cool, you know something about your charac! Now build upon what you know to make them real - it is important here to try and match your design choices with the characterisation and "why"s of the character, and less with what you personally think will be cool/cute/whatever. What I mean by this is just pretend they are a person you are describing to a forensic sketch artist - you are giving "facts" as to what you think they look like not making stuff up (eg you would NOT be like "oh yeh she was totally a punk rocker however i'm going to say she wore a long flowing gown cos I think she'd look prettier in it?"*)

*Note that designing a character with opposites in mind can work out if you can at least answer the cursory "why" of it being a part of the character design. For eg maybe the punk rocker is secretly the alter ego of a socialite - flowing gowns and high fashion by day, grunge by night. Like Batman.

📝 Feel free to use dress up doll games and image searches for particular types of clothes/hairstyles/etc if you need inspiration. Thumbnail a bunch of different designs and see what works.

---EXAMPLE---

In my prev example paragraph I highlighted a few things in red. Here I'll break down how they can help craft a physical appearance:

Sophisticated and charming / elegance - to me, these combined make me think of ballrooms and black tie functions and nice suits. A well tailored outfit and someone who knows how to wear them.

Gentlemanly demeanour (well to some degree lol) - since I already know he's hundreds of years old (973 to be exact) I decided that an aristocratic Victorian-esque aesthetic would suit him. Somewhere in between a modern look and something with a bit more fantasy steampunk flair. He smiles quite genially until he's doing it with all his teeth.

Aura of power - he's got to be a bit of an imposing character so he's quite tall (or at least taller than all of my other characs) and carries himself confidently. Hooray for the ability to loom. Dark colours for this character, to cut an impressive figure.

Pleasing physical appearance - kinda stereotypical type of good looks that aesthetically most people would be like "yeh he's pretty". Athletic build - muscular but not bulky, broad shoulders, tapered waist etc etc.

Extremely manipulative - first of all, he looks rather human, for a demon - his entire species is designed very particularly like that. Then there's the sunglasses. The "why" [does he wear them] is they function to hide his eyes (one of the main parts of him that give away his demon-ness), but also as a bit of a red flag to the audience that something isn't quite right with him. I mean, look past his charm and he wears them all the time. The black and yellow colour scheme also ties in as warning colours ⚠️

Put them all together and this was one of my first sketches of Demon!Rire.

*Note that I already more or less knew how he looked other than his outfit; you will probably have a lot more sketch duds as you figure out what your character looks like.

---/EXAMPLE---

🔐 Don't lock yourself in

Despite the fact I've just said "pretend your character is a person", remember you're still their creator so obviously you have final say over them. Sometimes you'll find that they grow and change from what you initially thought of them (or you just evolve in how you draw them). Don't be afraid to make the tweaks and changes that enhance these - whether they be physical or core characteristics - and you'll get closer to the true character you always had in mind.

---EXAMPLE--

I now draw Rire with a more pronounced V-shape, longer, wavier hair, and somehow he ended up with way more pronounced eyelashes than I usually draw on my male characs. Which works out quite well considering how I tend to draw his eyes. Anyway the point of this is that these things developed over time as I kept drawing him.

---/EXAMPLE---

🍀 Try it out with your own characs! Have fun and don't force yourself to try and get it "right" on the first go.

#prettyboysmakegravezz #character design #ref #character design tips #hope this is kinda helpful!#also honestly have fun aye #long post #also as for other content with rire there kinda is but he's not really the main charac lol #also who knows when that will come out im a bit pedantic planning a webcomic #sz

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a-casual-kpopfan · 6 months

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It's a Date. - Karina

Shoutout to @capslocked for the little beta read. <3

I'm starting to get back into the writing groove, dropping small fics here and there. This was fairly short and sweet, I hope you all enjoy as usual. :)

~~~~~

You were one of the hosts to take Aespa around New York while they’re on tour; today was an off day and you were with the group and their managers going out to several shopping districts and trying desserts throughout the day.

“Oppa, how come you’re not looking around for things?” Little Winter walking along next to you like a puppy, if a puppy can carry like 5 shopping bags with their paws.

“I live in the city Winter; this is my lifestyle.” You look around the shopping centre, it’s bustling and hustling as NYC would be normally. “Oh, come on oppa, there’s got to be something for you to do too, what about a girlfriend?” You had to think about it, it’s been a while since you were out with someone, let alone had a long-term relationship. “Ah, the last time I dated someone was back in college.” You gave a little smile to Winter as the two of you walked just behind the main group of members and managers.

Karina who’s walking along the main group takes a glance behind, seeing you and Winter laughing through your conversation. She excuses herself from the main group and slows down to the pace of you and Winter. “Ahh, what’s so funny?” Karina may be one of the most visually appealing idols and one of the most captivating people to ever walk this planet. But her looks don’t define who she is; Karina is actually a walking toddler.

Her cheeks are puffed up and lips in a pout. “Winter here is calling me a fossil, calling me old because I haven’t dated since college!” You were playing along with the act, acting a little whiny and childish which was alright, you’ve been with the girls a couple days already, they’re really playful and outgoing which is something you really appreciate seeing in Korean idols compared to a lot of Western stars you’ve hosted around every once in awhile.

Winter laughs uncontrollably on your left side, and is holding onto your arm, Karina is happy to see that there’s someone to trust outside of their group. “How old are you then oppa?” Karina tilts her head like a puppy, it really seems like Aespa as a group is a bunch of little puppies. “I’m 26 years old.” Winter pretends to be super shocked, exaggerating a dropped jaw. “Oh, my goodness, you’re a grandpa!”

“Yah, I’m only 3 years older than Karina.” Trying to defend yourself from Winter, but on the other side Karina is laughing at Winter’s reaction. “Oh, you’re not that old oppa, I just see the little white hairs appearing on your head.” Karina jokes around but catches you off guard making your jaw genuinely drop. “Ms. Karina!” Your jaw stays open but with a smile, you are putting your hand over your heart as if you got shot, but what really shot you is Karina’s smile and laughter.

Your walk through the mall was fun, it was all smooth going until…

“Oppa! Let’s go get you some clothes!” Giselle, the most fluent in English, pulls you into a local clothing shop. “Giselle!” The idol continued pulling your arm, you really didn’t have a choice. “Please, just call me Aeri.” With a reassuring smile that it’s okay to be on a first name basis at this point. “I feel like we’ll know each other a lot more after today.” Aeri with an excited smile, confuses you but you just go with the vibe.

“Oo, you'd be good with this… And this… We should try this too…” Aeri is picking out several pieces of clothing, going through different kinds of pants, looking at the blazers and some tops. “Giselle.” Aeri looks at you with a glare. “Aeri…” The glare changed to a smile, relieving you of possible stress. “Oppa, just try these on, okay?” Dumping a small pile of clothes into your arms, all you could do is sigh and accept it.

You went through multiple variations of outfits from all the clothes that Aeri has chosen for you. After spending about a half hour trying on clothes, there was a set that both you and Aeri found fond of. “Wah, oppa! You look so handsome!” You were wearing a short sleeve dark blue blazer, though worn open and on the inside, a nice grey, almost a salt & pepper style t-shirt, a black jean, complemented with a very dark brown leather shoe. “Wow, I have to hand it to you; you have great style Aeri.”

“Perks of being an idol~” You look through the mirror and watch Aeri pose with a V sign, making you laugh.

“That decides it, let’s go buy them!” You shook your head and looked at Aeri through the mirror. “I may be making decent money but buying all this is too expensive for me.” Your little shopping companion comes up to the mirror and looks you in the eye. “Oppa, who said you were going to pay?” And out of her pocket is her credit card from the company. “Yah, wouldn’t they be mad if you bought something not for you with this card?”

“This is the least that I can do being such a great host for us the last couple days.” You turn around to see a sincere smile and it doesn’t seem like she would take ‘No’ as an answer. “Okay, you win this round.” Aeri clapping her hands and you shrug in defeat as you make yourself to a change room with your original clothing.

Aeri kept to her word, now you’re walking along with Ningning and holding quite a lot of clothing. “Are you having fun with us, oppa?” It’s almost like each member is having their turn with you throughout the day. “Sure, I am Ningning, I get to spend time with very famous idols.” Ningning wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “What do you really like to do for fun?” You were confused as to why the idols are being really personal with you lately.

“Hmm, I’m originally from South Korea, but after moving here I really grew into North American culture. Watching basketball games, going out for bar food like wings and burgers with friends late at night. I do enjoy playing billiards, I’m always open to trying new activities.” Ningning now seems to be happy with that answer. “It seems that you’re very active.” You and Ningning kept the conversation going with each other, more and more you’re finding out the girls like to drink and eat a lot in the dorm, yet they seem so fit for the amount of food they consume and more Ningning is finding out your habits here in New York.

Once finding a restaurant to have a late lunch, you and the group were seated but you offered to sit separately as you would like to give the girls and managers their privacy.

“Nonsense! You’re sitting with us!” Karina was not happy with your suggestion. “You’re a part of us and you’re sitting with us.” The leader was standing firm, and wouldn't budge for anything. “Because you’re trying to bail on us, I’m making you sit next to me to keep an eye on you.” Karina poking your chest with her finger, you were given no choice. You couldn’t help but smile about it and shrugged. “Good, let’s go.” Karina grabbed your hand and dragged you in.

You were led to a large table fitting for 8 near the back of the restaurant, not completely private but obscure enough to eat comfortably. Karina sat on a bench with Winter and a manager beside her, one seat was left, and you were going to offer it to Ningning or Giselle, but you watch them already sit on the other side of the table with their other managers. “Nope, with me oppa.” Karina was sitting down, looking up to you with a smile.

“I really can’t get away from you, can I?” You finally gave up and sat down to the group’s leader. “Looks like someone has a liking for him.” Winter nudges Karina, shortly getting a slap to the leg to deny the teasing. “Yah…” You couldn’t hear the little whispers, you tried to ignore everything so the members can have a sense of comfortability and privacy, but then Karina can easily notice that you’re feeling uncomfortable.

“Hey… It’s okay.” Karina lays her palm on top of your hand and pats it. “Just be yourself, that’s all I ask for.” Her head is on a tilt, her smile, sincere. You nod your head and try your best to follow Karina’s asking. She’s always tried to make sure that her members were comfortable, that her manager was okay, but you being an outsider only have been with them for a short amount of time, Karina had always made sure that everyone was alright, she’s a great leader.

Lunch went smoothly, you and the managers had some good laughs, the members were having a good time, but alas all things must come to an end. The shopping is done, lunch is over, now you’re walking the girls and managers back to the hotel.

You bid your farewells, but Karina comes running back to you before you have the chance to leave the premises. “Oppa, I have a favour to ask you.” Karina's demeanour is off, hands behind her back, one foot balance on her toes, her eyes facing the ground, avoiding your gaze. “What is it, Karina?” You were curious, it’s not everyday you have a beautiful woman in front of you acting like a fool.

“I... Uh… Have this friend who’s coming to the city later tonight… I was hoping you could tour her around, like you did with us?”

“Oh… What could I have hoped for?”

“Sure, what time should I meet her?” You accepted without an issue, you wanted to be a good guy, you just spent a few days with the group and why should you decline? It’s not like you have a date to attend to.

“Yay! Thank you oppa, here’s her number, meet her here at 8pm!” Karina hands you a paper with an unusual phone number, not an area code you’re familiar with but you took in anyways. “Thank you oppa.” Karina bowed in respect before running back inside the hotel.

You would be a little disappointed, but this is a favour.

~~~~~

You make it back to the hotel at the time Karina told you to be there by, you texted the phone number that you arrived in the front. Good thing Aeri took you to go shopping for new clothes, you must dress up a little for the New York nightlife.

You: Hey, I’m in front of the lobby.

Unknown: I’ll be right there!

That reply came quickly, you were on a look out for someone outside the hotel, but the results would surprise you.

“Good evening oppa.”

You spin around to Karina, a different outfit from this afternoon. Instead of a white sweater and a long skirt, the Aespa leader is changed into a thin back long sleeve, mesh-like material being near fully see-through, a black bandeau underneath, complimenting her large bust and curves, paired with blue jeans and to finish with black boots.

“K-Karina?!”

Shocked to see the leader alone, no supervision, not even anyone watching from the entrance. “I hope you don’t mind me taking off my extensions, I felt like the short hair for our date.” Karina plays with her hair then smiles at you, she has somewhat of a gummy smile.

“Wait, I’m sorry, our date?” You were extremely caught off guard, Karina? Aespa’s leader? A kpop idol? A date? With you? “You could have better options than this old man.” The idol slowly walked towards you, grabbing your hand with both of hers, it’s now you really took the time to see, Karina has baby hands. “Why not? You treated us well, made sure we were comfortable, this is the least I could do… And I want to get to know you more.”

“But I live here, you need to go back to South Korea soon.” The idol was only giggling, she probably has already thought about it, otherwise you wouldn’t think she would go through the trouble of setting up a date with you. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it. There is a lot of tour guides in South Korea that would like a bilingual tour guide.”

With Karina’s amazing smile looking at you the way it is, how could you deny her?

“Okay Karina.”

“Please, my name is Yu Jimin.”

You smile and chuckle.

“Okay Jimin, what would you like to do tonight?”

She pulled away one hand, but still held yours with one. “Hmmm…” Her facial expression turned to a pout, playfully laying a finger on her chin, exaggerating the fact she’s thinking. “How about we go to a bar, get some wings and maybe watch a basketball game if there’s any?” Your jaw was left open, how could she have known?

“Ningning?”

“Mhmm.” With a cute nod.

How would you survive spending the night with Kar- Jimin?

The two of you walked off in a direction where you heard was a good restaurant that had some of the best wings and flavours, Jimin couldn’t let go of your hand, she was basically latched on your arm at this point.

“Oppa, are the New York Knicks any good?”

“Oh man… Don’t get me started…”

#karina #yu jimin #aespa #kpop fic #male reader #aespa fic #idol x reader

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straylightdream · 1 year

Text

I don't give a fuck about your friends - 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee minho x f.reader

friends to lovers

↳ Oh baby, take a look around I'm the only one that hasn't walked out, Im right here.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, smut warning below the cut.

𝐚𝐧: part of a series called ohmami of short one shots inspired by Chase Atlantic songs. This one was inspired by Right Here. If you would like to be tagged in all stories for this series or a specific boys please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, soft dom minho, rougher passionate sex, creampie, size kink, dirty talk, minho calls the reader the name Pretty.

It’s been a rough night to say the least. A night out with your friends went wrong. A bunch of drunk girls in the club is never a good mix, followed by watching a so-called friend makeout with your ex who you thought at one point you were gonna marry him. The sight of them kissing was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on you. Tears well in your eyes as you rush off to the hallway near the bathrooms. You fight back crying as you call the only person you want to see at that moment.

Walking back to the table where a few friends were, you let them know you were heading out. The buzz you had has faded away as a feeling of sadness takes over. Walking outside the cold air catches you by surprise. Taking a deep breath you wrap your arms around your body trying to find some warmth. You stand outside alone for all of five minutes when you see the only person you want to see walking towards. He’s dressed in gray sweats with a hoodie underneath and coat over the top.

You practically jog towards him, wrapping your arms around him, throwing yourself into his chest. There is a moment of silence as you cling to him. His hand gently rubs your back making you feel warmer.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he presses his lips to the top of your head.

Pulling away he takes off his coat and holds it out for you. You know he’ll probably be cold walking back to his car but there is no use in fighting him. Pulling his coat on you immediately notice his eyes are focused on you. He steps closer to you resting his hand on your cheek. Ever so slowly be wipes away the stray tear that had slid down your cheek.

“You’re too pretty to be sad,” his voice was calm and gentle.

Arriving at his car he helps you in the passenger side before shutting the door. The drive back to his apartment is quiet. You can feel him looking over at you every so often as you wipe away the stray tears that keep falling. He hasn’t really asked you what’s wrong but you know he will.

You arrive at his apartment he shares with Jisung and you notice right away there is no sign of his roommate. Without thinking the moment he shuts the door you lean forward to kiss him just like you always do. You’re caught off guard when he pulls away the moment your lips touch. The small feeling of rejection stings but you know it’s because he knows you’re upset.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He seems frustrated. You can’t blame him though. Recently anytime something has gone wrong in your life you always call him. He never tells you he can’t come to your rescue. He always does and every time no matter if it’s day or night it always ends the same way with you naked and spread out underneath him. He normally doesn’t say anything when you throw yourself at him. Peeling away your clothes as you desperately cling to him trying to make yourself feel better.

“Mae was all over Hyunwoo at the club. I looked out on the dance floor and saw my friend making out with the guy that broke my heart.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. Minho hated Hyunwoo and after you got your heart broken he hated your ex even more.

“She’s not your friend if she would do something that she knows would hurt you.” His hand rests on your side standing close to you.

“I’m probably just being sensitive,” you sigh, wiping away your tears. “I have that trip with them next weekend. I know she wouldn’t intentionally do something to hurt me.” You're an absolute fool and you know it. Mae and a bunch of the other girls are selfish and you know deep down inside you need to cut them off. Minho has told you over and over again he doesn’t like most of your friends in that group and you know why. He doesn’t say anything for a moment instead he moves away from your hand and gently rests his hand on your cheek. His thumb swipes away the tears that are staining your cheek.

“Come stay with me next weekend. I don’t think you should go on that trip.” From the moment Minho heard that you were supposed to have a girls weekend he was instantly against it. He thought most of the girls that you had started hanging out with since college were fake. After seeing one of them make out with the man that broke your heart led you to believe he might be right.

“They’ll be upset if I cancel on them,” you sigh.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“‘Min they’re my friends. It does matter.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your friends. I’m the one who is always right here. They don’t treat you right. If they were true friends they would have seen you were upset tonight and wouldn’t have let you leave crying.”

“Min,” his words catch you off guard.

“I’m being honest. I don’t give a fuck about your so called friends. I just want you to be happy and I think being with me instead of them would make you happy.”

Even though your head is telling you that you should go on this trip, you want to listen to your heart and stay with Minho.

“What happens if I stay here?”

“We’ll figure out whatever we are.” He pushes his figures through your hair tilting your head back. His face softens as your eyes lock.

“We’re not just friends?” You’re not dumb you know you’re more than friends. If you were just friends you wouldn’t throw yourself at him any chance you get. If he was just your friend you wouldn’t daydream about kissing him.

He pulls back from you shaking his head. “I don’t fuck my friends.” He starts walking away from you heading off to his room. You’re caught off guard by his bold statement but it lets you know he feels the same way you do. Without thinking anymore you follow him. Walking into his room you notice the light on in the bathroom connected to his room. You wait sitting on his bed for him to walk back in. Walking back into his bedroom he pulls off his shirt tossing it in the hamper by his closet. He strips down to his boxers. You silently sit there watching him. You should have known at some point or another things between you and Minho would come to a head. You couldn’t go on sleeping together without talking about how you really get.

“Are you going to skip that trip?” He finally breaks the silence.

“I want to know what it’s like to be more than friends with you.” This is your way of telling him you aren’t going on that trip.

“Stand up for me,” he says walking towards you. You listen to him standing at the foot of the bed. “Those girls aren’t good for you. They don’t care about your feelings and I don’t like that.”

“I know they don’t.” You get sad again thinking about how your night went.

“Strip down to your underwear please.” He doesn’t normally boss you around when you sleep together. He’s always had dominant energy about him, but when you have sex he always lets you do what you want. Every time you’ve slept together it’s been when you’re upset or want a form of stress release. You realize you’ve been selfish and never really asked Minho what he likes or what he wants.

Standing there in just your underwear you reach out resting your hand on his cheek, “what do you want from me?” You ask.

“Anything you’re willing to give me. I want every part of you.”

“Minho I mean what do you want if you don’t want to be just friends?”

His hand rests on your bare side pulling you close to him. You take a deep breath taking in his closeness. “Pretty, I want to be your everything. I want to make you happy and show you what it’s like to be loved.” Leaning in closer he rested his forehead against yours.

“I want you to be my everything.” You didn’t want to just be friends. You wanted so much more with him.

His lips crash against yours and he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. His hands grip your soft sides as your lips move together.

Pulling away you both removed the rest of your clothes. Laying on his bed completely bare he sits between your spread thighs as he rubs his hardened length through your folds.

“Min put it in,” you practically whine wanting him inside you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as slowly pushes his length into you earning a moan. He moves at a slow pace letting you adjust to his girth. The groan that passes his lips as he bottoms out is intoxicating. Your hands reach for his wanting to hold on to him. He thrust into you at a firm but steady place. The blissed out look on his face makes you weak.

“Pretty, you’re so tight. Is my cock too big for you?” He loves to make you feel small. You weren’t a tiny girl by any means but the way he talks about his size makes your head spin.

With one particularly hard thrust makes you practically scream his name. A soft laugh passes his lips as he thrust hard again causing your breast to bounce.

“Min-“ you moan.

“Do you like it when I’m rough?” You just silently nod your head, unable to fully respond. He grabs one of your legs, putting it over his shoulder before he continues his pace. His finger toys with your clit knowing just the right way to touch you to make you scream his name again.

He keeps his steady pace leaving you a panting mess. One of your hands grip the cotton sheets next to you while the other grasp your breast. Your thumb drags across your sensitive nipple adding to the overwhelming sensation taking over your body.

“Fuck you look good touching yourself while you’re taking my cock,” he groans. His dirty words come close to pushing you over the edge.

“I’m so clo- clo close.” He’s left you a stuttering mess.

“Does pretty want to come?”

“Fuck,” you whine nodding your head.

“Do it then,” he says, thrusting harder.

Pulling your leg off his shoulder he quickly changes his position so he is hovering right over you. He keeps his pace as he leaves a trail of open mouth kisses from your chest up to your lips. The moment your lips together you moan into his mouth as you fall apart. Your walls flutter around him as a white hot wave crashes over you. He thrust into you over and over again as you ride out your high.

His thrust gets sloppier as he chases his own release. He comes painting your walls white moaning your name. He stays plastered on top of you riding out his release. Ever so slowly he pulls himself away from you. He sits back on his hunches watching for a moment as his release drips out of you. Reaching over to his nightstand where he keeps a box of tissues he always wipes his release before laying on the bed next to you. You’re absolutely exhausted and feel like you’re on the verge of falling asleep.

“Pretty?” He says pulling your sleepy body close to his.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said. I’ve always been right here, and I don’t want to be just friends.”

You smile nuzzling close to him, “Minho we’re definitely more than friends, and I’m glad you’ve always been right here.”

His lips gently press to the top of your head before you fall asleep in his arms.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #lee know #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee Minho #lee know angst #stray kids fan fiction #stray kids x you #stray kids reader insert #lee know reader insert #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut

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wildmelon · 8 months

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well, it finally happened, a big cc creator told me not to put their cc in my sim dumps... it's a creator i couldn't find tou for at the time (and still can't now, just tried for research purposes) so i went with common sense rules like "don't include cc that's in early access" and "don't paywall other ppl's cc" which i obviously would never do. i did change the dl to appease them, but...

i'm feeling torn between wanting to be considerate/understanding and absolute irritation at what this community has become, especially in light of the absurd influx of brand new cc creators who aren't part of the community paywalling their very first posts. i'm thinking about the text post that was going around recently that said something like "imagine if the simblr community was actually collaborative and we shared creations openly" instead of this for-profit entity it's become.

this creator's been nothing but polite so i don't want to seem like i'm after them but they're also making so much money monthly off cc that you'd think it'd be ok to use that cc. bc literally what else is a sim dump. i use a bunch of cc and it's included in the download for convenience, then people put the cc in their own game and everything is exactly the same from there-- your name on the file, your name on the cas preview.

except, of course, the downloader didn't visit your page in the first place, so you missed out on another potential patron/click (never mind the fact that the creators i use for sim dumps are intentionally bigger so people are more likely to already have the cc/know who the creator is, so you probably didn't miss out anyway).

the other thing is that anyone who won't let their cc be used in sim dumps must understand that if everyone else followed that rule, sharing sims with each other would pretty quickly become way too tedious and that entire way of engaging with the community would fall apart. how can you justify a rule that would unquestionably harm the community if every creator followed it? it's both unsustainable and ungenerous.

the bottom line is we need to reconsider how we approach creations made for this game. if you're a creator and your goal is not for your creation to be used, shared, and enjoyed, why are you even making cc? (& money is not a good answer 😀)

#lush.talk #rant #the patreon issue #the sims community

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sebscore · 1 year

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the other drivers finding a hickey on gen z driver! reader and trying to find out who gave it to her it would be so funny😭😭

WHAT HAPPENS IN MONACO, STAYS IN MONACO

pairing: f1 grid x driver!reader

warnings: hickey. innuendos. rushed writing (lol, I wrote this in the middle of the night so cut me some slack pls).

author's note: thanks for the request! I know this has been in my drafts for a long time so I'm very sorry that it took me a while!! hope you still see this <3 also thank you to @12-seconds-to-live for the title inspo!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

The Monaco Grand Prix was always one of the highlights of the season- the prestige and luxury it brought forward was matched by no other race.

It was also the home of many F1 drivers, including herself. So it wasn't too out of the ordinary for a bunch of them to get together and celebrate in one of the many clubs the city had to offer.

''Y/N, we're going out later tonight, wanna join?'' Pierre asked her, all of their media duties done for the day. Lando, Charles, Max, George and Alex amusingly looked at her, already knowing she would never pass the opportunity to party.

She scrunched her nose, feeling the teasing coming from a mile away. ''I, uh, actually have other plans.''

''What do you mean you have other plans?'' The frowns on the guys' faces didn't do their obvious confusion justice. ''You're seriously saying no to a party with us?'' George was flabbergasted, he had known her for years and in all that time she had never refused.

''I am saying no this time.'' Y/N chuckled, their faces too funny not to laugh at.

''Even the girls are coming,'' Lando said, referring to their girlfriends, ''you can say no to us, but you surely can't say no to them.'' He tried convincing her, knowing about her soft spot for their girls.

Y/N loudly sighed, glancing away for a moment. ''I already told Lily I wasn't coming so that won't be a problem.''

''She didn't tell me that.'' Alex argued, almost offended by his girlfriend not informing him.

The young woman glimpsed at him, a smirk on her face. ''Well, there are many things she doesn't tell you that she tells me, Albono.'' She ended her sentence with a wink to the Williams driver.

Her comment had temporarily taken the focus off of her dismissal to party as the drivers laughed and poked some fun at Alex, but Charles wouldn't let her get away with it just yet. ''But what are those other plans you have, Y/N?''

''I just have better things to do, guys.'' She said, making an advance to leave the paddock and go home for the day.

''Like what?'' Max asked, puzzled by her vague answer.

''I don't know, my friend didn't say his name.'' She grinned from ear-to-ear, quickly waving them goodbye before they could stop her and tease her for going on a blind date with someone.

Y/N could hear the commotion they made as she walked away, secretly smiling to herself. ''I can't believe she's dumping us for some guy.'' She swore it was Lando who said it.

Walking into the driver's briefing the next day hadn't been like the usual days. Normally, she walked in, greeted everyone and sat down on a random chair. However this time, it went a little different.

Y/N walked into the room and greeted everyone, nothing out of the ordinary. But instead of a symphony of excited and dismissed greetings back, she was met with smirks and chuckles from her fellow drivers.

''What is it?'' She asked them, not sitting down before she had an answer.

Yet, they continued acting like teenagers and giggled amongst themselves, not giving her an explanation for their weird behaviour.

Daniel was the first one to have mercy on her and spoke up. ''You had fun last night?'' The raised eyebrow didn't go unnoticed, the Australian referring to her blind date from the night before that the other must have informed the entire grid about before she arrived.

''It was alright.'' She merely said, finally sitting down on the chair next to Lewis who didn't seem to be very invested as he typed something on his phone.

''Just alright? Cause it seems like you were busy.'' Lando continued the teasing, weirdly putting his hand on the side of his neck.

Y/N frowned at his action. ''I have no idea what you're talking about and stop acting like an idiot.'' She awkwardly chuckled, unnerved by everything.

''You're the only clueless idiot in the room right now, I'm afraid.'' George commented, smiling a bit too bright in her opinion.

''I'm totally confused.'' She let out, not hiding her confusion any longer.

Lewis scratched his voice, not taking his eyes off his phone. ''We can see the hickey on your neck.'' He revealed to her, matter-of-factly.

Y/N's eyes widened, immediately hiding her neck into her sweater while she could feel her head heating up due to embarrassment. ''I just walked past all the reporters- oh my god!'' She exclaimed, angry at herself for giving them any kind of news they could gossip about.

''I'm so happy it's not me this time.'' Lando laughed, victoriously throwing his hands in the air.

''You're the victim of the week, kiddo.'' Valtteri ruffled her hair, sitting on the chair behind her and his former teammate. She weakly smiled at him, mortified at what her team's press officer was going to say about this.

A figure taking the space on the other side of her brought the woman out of her thoughts, glancing beside her, she found Mick's comforting smile. ''Don't listen to them,'' he whispered, ''so, tell me about it! Is he a nice guy?'' Mick couldn't help but be curious, they have been good friends for years.

Y/N snorted, quickly covering her mouth. ''I don't know, there wasn't much talking, to be honest.''

''Okay, gross.''

taglist :: @i0veless @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @scuderialavender @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis

@champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads @mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #female f1 driver #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #formula one fics #formula 1 fanfic

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skzstannie · 4 months

Text

"I'll take care of you"

SKZ-> Felix x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, stranger to lovers wc: ~3,100 cw: Abusive/toxic boyfriend, yelling, violence, Felix is literally the biggest sweetheart

summary: you'd never expect the coffee shop down the street to be your saving grace, but a certain sunshine had other ideas

A/N: Hellooooo! I reached 200 followers today, so THANK U AGAIN! Should I do something special for it?

Part 2 is now posted!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Baby, please," you sob, your cheek throbbing in pain.

"Don't 'baby' me, you know this is what happens when you don't do your chores." His smirk is villainous as he stands over you. "Don't be a bitch! Get up and go do what you were supposed to do," he seethes, making you flinch.

You slowly get up off the floor, brushing yourself off as you stand. You feel his eyes on you as you scramble into the kitchen.

You forgot to do the dishes again. You should've known better than to forget; you know he gets like this every time. You don't necessarily blame him, though. He does so much for you, and you can't even remember to do a simple household chore.

You scrub the plates clean, the hot water burning against your skin. His footsteps echo into the room, coming closer to you.

His hands wrap gently around your waist, holding you close. "You know I don't like to hit you, baby. Why can't you just listen?"

"I'm sorry. I'll be better for you," you tell him as you lean back into his touch.

"I know you will be."

~ ~ ~

"One medium Iced Americano!"

You stand from your seat in the coffee shop, making your way towards the counter to grab your drink.

The cafe is crowded, the queue at least 10 deep. You squeeze past people, muttering the occasional "Excuse me" as you pass.

You're disappointed when you get to the counter, seeing your drink nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me," you call out to the barista behind the counter, "What happened to my drink? The Iced Americano?"

"Oh, some guy just took it. It was yours?" she asks distractedly, another cup already in her hand as she pours coffee into it.

"Yea..." you trail off, your eyes scanning the shop for the drink-stealer.

"I'm sorry about that, I'll whip you up another one. What size would you like?"

"Medium, please." The barista nods her head and gets to work. "Thank you so much."

You sit down at a table near the counter to wait. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about all the work you have to catch up on this week. You're an editor for the local newspaper, and your boss decided to dump a bunch of stories on you last minute. While they weren't set to be published for another few weeks, you were incredibly meticulous with your work, so it usually took you longer than necessary to get through them.

You're brought of your thoughts by a boy walking up to your table. "I'm sorry, but I think I accidentally took your drink. My friend ordered a large iced Americano, and I think this is the medium." His cute face is twisted in an apologetic expression.

"That's ok, she's making me a new one. No worries," you reassure him, giving him a soft smile.

"Oh good, sorry again." You expect to him to walk off, your original drink in his hand, but he continues to stand in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. It's a little uncomfortable, and you're about to get up to avoid the awkward tension when he speaks again.

"Mind if I sit? You look like you could use some company."

You hesitate to answer. If your boyfriend found out you let some random man sit with you, he'd freak out.

"I was actually just about to head out. I have to get back to my boyfriend," you answer, deciding that rejecting his offer was for the best.

"Here you go miss, one medium Iced Americano," says the barista. Her arm is stretched over the counter, your drink in hand.

"Thank you so much," you immediately stand, stepping around the man to grab it.

As you go to step away, the man stops you, "My name's Felix by the way. I've seen you around here before." His eyes twinkle from the dingey lights overhead.

"I'm Y/N," your lips morph into a smile at his kindness.

"I'll see ya around?" there's a questioning twinge to his voice, a hint of hope peaking through.

"Sure. See ya around, Felix." With that, you walk towards the exit, heading back home.

~ ~ ~

"What took you so long?" your boyfriend's voice booms through the house as soon as you open the door.

"Someone else took my drink, so I had to wait for them to make me another," you explain, hopeful that you're calm energy will have the same affect on your boyfriend.

"You think that's a good enough excuse?! For all I know you could've been cheating on me! What am I supposed to think when you're gone for so long?!" he yells, his heavy footsteps approach you quickly from the living room.

"Babe, I promise it was nothing like that," you panic, your eyes darting around the foyer for an escape.

"Next time," he's in front of you now, his face red in anger, "tell me if you'll be longer." His rough hand reaches towards your face, roughly grabbing your jaw between his fingers. You wince, sure it'll leave yet another bruise. "Got it?"

"Yes," you mumble, your jaw stinging from his tight grasp.

"Good." He releases your face and wipes his hands on his pants, like he's disgusted by you.

You hurry off to your bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you.

~ ~ ~

It's been a couple weeks since you've been able to stop by the cafe. Your boyfriend's been stricter since the last coffee incident, not letting you leave the house without him.

"Hi Y/N!" your eyes glance above your computer screen, meeting the happy face of the man you met the last time you came here. What was his name again?

"Hi..." you say, hoping he'll fill in the blank.

"Felix!"

"Oh yea," you chuckle, embarrassed by your forgetfulness, "Sorry, it slipped my mind."

"That's ok!" You're heart warms, his bright and happy personality filling the emptiness of the coffee shop. "May I sit?" He gestures to the chair across from you.

You think on it for a moment. You really need to finish this article, but you guess a little break won't hurt. "Sure."

You didn't know it was possible, but his smile turns brighter at your answer. "Thanks!" He pulls the chair out and sits. It's silent between you for a minute, and you go back to typing away on your computer. "What are you working on?"

"I'm an editor for the newspaper, so I'm just finishing up this story," you reply.

"Oooh, that's cool? Do you like being an editor?"

You and Felix hit it off right away. He asks you more about your job, and you love the way he genuinely seems interested in what you have to say.

You ask him a few questions about himself, too, and you find out he's in a band with his friends.

"That's so cool!" You've finished you're article by this point, and you're nearing the end of your coffee, as well.

His eyes light up as he talks about his friends. They sound like an interesting bunch from all the stories he tells you.

"And then," he stops, letting out an adorable giggle, "he fell right on his ass, in front of everyone!" He laughs again and you join in. Something about Felix's aura just makes you feel so comfortable around him, like you've known him forever.

You both quiet down, and you become a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze. His eyes focus on your chin.

"What happened to your chin?" It's obvious he doesn't mean any harm with his question, pure curiosity taking over his features. However, the attention to your bruises makes you severely uncomfortable, and you instinctually look to flee.

"Oh, it was nothing," you think for a second, trying to come up with an excuse, "I'm just clumsy and hit my chin on my nightstand. No biggie," you tell him distractedly as you hurry to pack up your things.

His eyes widen at your panicked movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he apologizes, standing up as well.

"It's ok, I actually had to go anyway," you lie, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I'll see you around." You quickly make your way out of the cafe, not even giving him a chance to say goodbye. He stands there with a slight tilt to his head, watching you rush out of the shop.

~ ~ ~

Weeks go by before Felix has the chance to talk to you again. He waits for you on your usual days at the cafe, hoping to see your familiar figure walk through the door, but you never do.

His eyes light up one particular Monday morning as you walk through the door, the little bell dinging, alerting the employees someone came in.

His smile falters a little upon seeing the man holding your hand. You're expression is stiffer than normal, your lips pursed in a tight line, replacing the bright smile you usually wear.

Felix watches as the man orders for both of you. "One medium iced Americano and a small Hazelnut latte," he says.

The man looks nothing like he thought your boyfriend would look. His eyes are cold and emotionless, practically burning holes in the side of the barista's face. Felix doesn't miss the way he rudely tosses the money onto the counter, not even gracious enough to hand it to the cashier.

Felix's gaze shifts down to your hands, your boyfriend's grip looking unnecessarily tight around your small hand. He notices the way your fingers are white from lack of circulation, and his blood boils.

Felix manages to catch your wandering gaze, your cheeks heated in embarrassment from the way your boyfriend was treating the staff.

He gives you a small wave, the corners of his lips upturned.

Your eyes widen at his show of friendliness, and you give him the smallest of head shakes. Your expression conveys, "Please don't say anything to me", and his heart clenches at this. Who does this guy think he is?

As much as Felix wants to go up to you and rip his hand from yours, it's clear you don't want him to acknowledge you right now. He knows it is because of the man next to you, and he begins to wonder if those bruises he saw on your chin weeks before weren't from your clumsiness after all.

~ ~ ~

"You never order anything when you're here. Why is that?"

It's a nice, sunny Monday morning, and you and Felix sit in the corner of the cafe.

"I don't actually like coffee much," he chuckles, his face flushing in embarrassment. You raise your eyebrows at that, waiting for him to continue. "I just like the atmosphere here, and now I come for you, too!"

Now it's your turn to blush, a pink shade creeping up your neck. "For me?"

"Yea, I figured we're friends now, and I like to spend time with you." his voice is deep and charming as he speaks, his eyes soft.

Friends aren't something that have come easy to you. Your boyfriend rarely lets you go places by yourself. Work is the main exception, and after some begging a few months prior, he allows you to come to the coffee shop by yourself, too.

Being friends with Felix sounds nice. It's been months since you first met, and most weeks you both sit at the same table, you working on your articles and him doing various other activities. Sometimes he'll bring a book to read, other times he'll just play on his phone until you're finished working.

The silence sits between the two of you as you think, and Felix worries he's made you uncomfortable. "I mean- we don't have to be, like friends, or anything. I just thought-"

You cut off his rambling, a smile gracing your lips, "I'd love to be friends with you Felix."

His shoulders slump in relief, and he gives you a relaxed smile. "Oh good, I was worried I'd scared you off."

"You're practically the nicest person I've ever met. How could you possible scare me off?" you laugh.

"I know I can come off a little strong sometimes, but I'm just a friendly guy, and I like your company," he explains to you, and you can't help but agree with everything he says.

That first day he talked to you he did seem a little overzealous. Now, after hanging out with him numerous times, you know that's just him, and you're ok with that. You love how Felix is able to bring a little sunshine into your life, even if it's only for a few hours every week.

"Well, don't worry about it. I wanna be your friend, too, and I like hanging out with you just as much," you assure him.

"Perfect! As my first duty of being your official friend, I have to ask you to stop lying to me," his voice goes serious, the light in his eyes dimming.

Your breath falters a little at this. "What do you mean?" you try to play it off, taking a swift drink of your coffee. You know he's not stupid; anyone with eyes can see the various bumps and bruises that litter your body.

"All these bruises... nobody's that clumsy, Y/N."

The familiar urge to escape fills your body, and panic bubbles in your throat.

"Felix," you choke out, your gaze lingering on your hands nervously rubbing against your pants. Tears gather in your eyes.

No one has ever confronted you about this. You pushed your family away long ago; it was upon your boyfriend's request, but who were you to tell him no? You've not been close with someone since then. You had friends before, but after so many unanswered texts, they just stopped texting. Stopped calling. Now their contacts sit in your phone as constant reminders of what used to be.

Felix's heart softens as your eyes well with tears, but he stands his ground. If he was going to be your friend, he couldn't let this slide any longer. "No more lies."

"Felix, I can't," the anxiety becomes too much, and you're quick to run out of the cafe, leaving your bag and coffee sitting on the table.

Felix quickly gathers your things and follows you out, earning a few curious glances from the people standing in line.

His eyes find your form, speed-walking down the sidewalk in the normal direction you leave in. "Y/N, please wait!" he calls after you, jogging to catch up.

He only has to run for a few seconds, catching up to you quickly. He reaches out to grab your elbow, and he immediately recoils upon seeing the way you flinch at his touch.

You stop walking, knowing there's no point in running anymore. Your head hangs low, your gaze permanently set on the ground in front of you. You allow Felix to guide you towards a secluded bench, sitting on the side of one of the buildings.

Felix's body immediately kicks into comfort mode upon seeing the tears flowing down your face. He softly sets his arm around your shoulders. You don't flinch, so he takes that as his sign to wrap you up into a hug, pulling you further into his body.

You continue to cry into his shoulder, not sure how else to deal with the emotions that overwhelm you.

"Y/N," he whispers as he rubs your back, "Can you look at me for a second?"

You raise your head from his shoulder, your eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"Please let me help you," he begs, his arms firm around your body.

"Felix, I can't," your sobs return, your arms leaving Felix to cover your face.

"Y/N, you've let him control you long enough."

Your lips wobble, and you don't know what to say. You've dated your boyfriend for years; he's all you know, all you have.

You've listened to his verbal abuse for so long, his words constantly swimming in your head:

"No one else will love you like I do."

"Nobody cares about you."

"Your family and friends left you, but not me. You can trust me."

His physical abuse marks your body. Old scars litter your arms and legs, bruises coloring your jaw and neck. You're always aching, different parts of your body always healing. You know your body needs a break.

"I know you probably feel stuck, like you have no one to go to," Felix continues, hoping that there's room in your cluttered mind for his words to get through to you, "But I'm here now. I'll help you. I won't let him touch you anymore."

Your mind is full of every emotion imaginable.

You know you can trust Felix. The problem isn't whether or not you can trust Felix. After all these months, he's proven to be one of the greatest people you've ever met. He's kind, loving, caring; everything you're boyfriend is not.

No, the problem isn't whether you can trust Felix; he's one of the most trustworthy people you've ever met. You just don't know how.

"Please, Y/N, I can't sit by and continue to watch you walk into the cafe with new bruises every week. I'll help you get out of this mess; you don't have to stay with him anymore."

Felix's pleas swirl around in your mind. The kindness he emits mixes with the words of your boyfriend like oil and water. If Felix was ice, your boyfriend would be fire; the two polar opposites in every way.

"That boyfriend of yours is no good for you," you remember your mom telling you. It was one of the last conversations you had with her before he made you cut all contact with her.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it is time for a change. Felix has always made you feel safe, like you could tell him anything. He could help you.

"It's your call, don't let him think he has power of you. All you have to do is tell me, and it'll be taken care of. I'll take care of you, Y/N."

You sit in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of your sniffles filling the air.

The cold wind whips past your clouded head, bringing you back to reality. You finally gain the courage to look up at him, and his eyes have never looked softer.

"Please help me, Felix," you sob, your hands going to grip his hoodie as you lay your head against his chest. Your ear presses against his heart, the gentle beat soothing you better than words ever could.

"Oh, sweet girl," he whispers, running his hand through your hair. He's holding you so tight now, like he never wants to let you go. "You'll never have to see him again. I've got you now, nobody will hurt you anymore."

Part 2

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nonexistent-introvert · 11 months

Text

Anomaly

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Content: angst, idrk what’s gg on either, fights, you’re a Spider-Man too

A/N: post ATSV dump, I fell into the black hole known as Miguel O’Hara, I just needed to write this so it’s probably a mess 😵‍💫 I’m also posting this on my phone so- grammarly isn’t here to save me

Miguel stared at the footage of the new spiderman on his various screens. An headache making him all the more annoyed. There was barely any information on this person, the only thing he knew about them was the fact that they were an anomaly. Someone who wasn’t supposed to become a spiderman.

“Miguel! We brought them in.” Jess called out to him. Miguel turned his head, his eyes stared at the spiderman that has been causing him an headache for the past week as his platform descended.

The sound of machinery filled the place. There was an palpable tension in the air but what he didn’t expect was the sound of webs. His spidey senses tingled but it was already too late as you had swung yourself onto the platform. Gasps erupted from below, no one has ever dared to do that. “What do you think you’re doing?” Miguel spoke, authority in his voice. Mildly taken aback that you were able to act faster than his spidey senses could alert him. “You really should do something better with this.” You gestured to the platform that the both of you were standing on that was still in the process of descending. Your eyes scanned the screens before you, “If this is your dimension, technology is definitely much more advanced than… this.” You pointed out, mentioning the futuristic dimension the headquarters was located at. The rate of the machinery descending was too slow for anyone’s liking.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance and anger filling him. “Just- who exactly are you?” He seethed. “Shouldn’t you know that? Judging by all this.” Your fingers danced across the screens with no care in the world, watching the various footages of you. Miguel slapped your hands away from the screens, “Take your mask off.” He raised his voice, a bunch of the spiderman shuddered in fear. You simply laughed, leaning back. “You haven’t even introduced yourself.” Miguel’s blood was boiling by now, “I’m Miguel O’Hara” Lyla was on one of the screens, watching the interaction with an amused look. It has been decades since anyone eveen dared challenge the stoic and unfunny spiderman.

“Wasn’t so hard was it?” You grinned, introducing your name to him. He froze at your name, quickly recovering his composure, there were plenty of people out there with the same name.

You pulled out a headpiece and Miguel watched as the nanotech retract to reveal a familiar face. A charming smile on your face while he just stared in disbelief.

“Everyone, out.” He ordered. Despite a few protests, everyone left. “Oh, am I that special?” You teased, waving to the spidermen who were leaving. Miguel couldn’t help but stare, you weren’t suppose to be here, he wasn’t supposed to see you ever again. However, you seem totally oblivious to his inner turmoil.

When you looked at him again, the playful look in your eye faltered. You pursed your lips, staring at the platform you were standing on. “Are you really-” Miguel started, his eyes softening.

“In the flesh. You got quite the set up here.” You remarked. Miguel shook his head, turning away from you. “I caused this. I dragged you into this mess.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I figured this out on my own.” You gestured to the suit you were wearing. “Because I saved you! Because I couldn’t bring myself to let you die. It is the whole reason you’re standing here as an anomaly!” Miguel shouted, he shouldn’t have interfered. He was supposed to minimise contact with anyone from other dimensions, he let himself get too close to you.

==================================

Every thought in Miguel’s head screamed at him to stop returning to you. He was supposed to be in his office at the headquarters, making sure that the multiverse is stable. However, he kept finding excuses after excuses to return to your dimension. To see you again, to laugh and talk to you.

“Oh you’re back.” You greeted upon returning to your home, putting your work bag down. Miguel smiled at you, “Missed you.” He admitted with a soft smile as he let you fall into his arms. You knew Miguel was lying to you, lying to you that he was a scientist at Alchemax. Even if it was once his job, you knew it wasn’t anymore. The long and sudden disappearances, he was practically a ghost and a figment of your imagination. While you lied in his embrace and listened to his voice, you couldn’t bring yourself to question him about it.

“Is there something wrong?” Miguel asked, noticing how you kept spacing out. Your usual cheery and playful tone missing. “I-” You stirred in his arms. “You’re not really a scientist at Alchemax are you?” Miguel kept his face blank, “Why?” he should have known better to underestimate you, to think that you would believe in the white lie he told you.

You pulled yourself away from him. “Never mind” you brushed your own doubt off, you didn’t want to ruin anything. Miguel tightened his hold on you, to stop you from distancing yourself, both metaphorically and literally. “I’m not.” He confessed. His eyes scanning yours for a reaction.

The watch that he wore started beeping. You sighed, “You’re not from around here” Finally putting the pieces together. “I’m sorry amor.” He apologised, rushing off.

If Miguel knew that would be the last time he saw you. He would have let the world burn just to spend the time with you.

“No!” He exclaimed. The flames engulfed the building and everything in it. The same building he had just left you in, the building that he visited everytime to see you, the building that was your home. Miguel eyes scanned the civilians that were evacuated from the building for you to no avail. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, one clear goal in mind, that he needed to find you. The voices of the civilians panicking, praying for their loved ones filled his ears, then he picked up on the sound of your name. He cursed when they said that you had ran back in to help others.

The building collapsed on itself, Miguel ignored everything. The rubble that was falling only increased his anxiety. He almost cried when he saw you unconscious on the floor.

“Second and third degree burns. Over-inhalation of smoke.” Lyla listed. He was bent over your body, doing anything he could. “There isn’t much hope.” Lyla ended, Miguel would have screamed at her if he wasn’t so focused on rescuriating you.

“No,no,no!” He chanted, his fingers finding your weak pulse. Miguel was at a loss, he couldn’t lose you. “Lyla. Give me the drug.” Lyla eyes widened, “She’s collateral damage Miguel. Saving her will cause the multiverse to-“ “I know that!” Miguel screamed, he knew he was putting everything on the line by saving you. However he couldn’t bring himself to just walk away, to just let you die.

Miguel continued to watch you from afar after he saved you with the drug. He watched as you were accompanied to the hospital and made sure that your condition was stable. Then he made the vow to himself.

The vow that he will no longer break any of the rules he had set for himself. He will not let anyone of a different dimension close to him, he will not risk the multiverse. Miguel O’Hara will not see you again no matter what happens.

He should have known that your stubborn personality would have brought you here to him.

==============

“Being a Spider-Man means people close to you will die. It’s a curse and a responsibility.” Miguel told you. You scoffed at him, “I’m not new to this. I went for so long without you ever noticing my existence. Even when you did, you never knew my identity.” Miguel ran his hands through his hair, “Lyla, check up on what’s her canon event.” “On it!” Lyla chirped. You shook your head, “about that. I think I got lucky.” Miguel glared at you, his mouth opened to scold you for what you just uttered.

“It has already happened. Her canon event has already occured.” Lyla announced. You nodded with your hands on your hips. “What?” Miguel eyes widened.

“My canon event was losing you.” You announced . Miguel’s jaw dropped, that was the reason why he couldn’t track your story, because it had already happened. “I’m lucky because I didn’t lose you for good it seems.” You pointed at him.

“You could have lived a perfectly normal life.” Miguel’s voice became significantly softer. “I would have been dead.” You pointed out. “If you never met me, you could have led a simple life without having to put yourself in danger. Maybe even a family.” The thought of you having a family brought a bittersweet taste to his mouth. You would be a fantastic mother but the thought of you being with someone else was a reality he didn’t want to hear about.

“My life wouldn’t be complete without you.” Miguel stood up to his full height. “You don’t know that.” He snapped.

“We were a mistake. We never should have even met.” Miguel breathed.

Those words hung in the air, suffocating the both of you. You put your hands on your hips, squaring your shoulders and clenching your jaw. You looked at the costume and the symbol you wore on your chest. “The whole reason I’m here is because I’m an anomaly right?” You started. Miguel kept quiet, pressing on the various screens. “Then right your mistakes Miguel. Get rid of me, or whatever you do to anomalies.” You challenged, stepping closer to him.

Miguel remained silent with his back facing you. His fists were clenched on the counter. Miguel was the whole reason you even became a spiderman. You studied quantum physics, tried your very best to be able to come up with something so that you could see him again. Then you figured out a way to become like him, to save lives. It was all to see him again. However, meeting him now. It was a dream come true but why did it seem more like a nightmare?

“Lyla, send her home.” Miguel muttered. “After all the trouble?” Lyla asked, she knew how many nights Miguel had spent just tracking and studying you, to understand your timeline and story. You stepped forward, putting your hand on his shoulder. Miguel was quick enough to turn around, one touch from you and he would never let you go again. “So you’re just going to live the rest of your life being guilty that you dragged me into being spiderman while upholding whatever stupid promise you made about not seeing me again?” You were on the verge of tears, after everything and Miguel didn’t even want to see you. “Yes. I will accept you are spiderman but I will not allow myself to indulge in your company again. I will not repeat my mistake.”

“Mistake of what?” You asked exasperatedly, closing your eyes to calm yourself down. You will not shed tears in front of him. Anger burned in Miguel’s eyes, “I almost caused you to die! You were suppose to die in that fire and it would be because I was there, because you are someone close to me. I will not allow that to happen. Then, you became spiderman too, putting yourself out there in danger and endangering everyone you care about. You don’t understand what you had gotten yourself into.” Miguel emphasised.

“I’m going to die no matter what Miguel! I’m not immortal. I will die in that fire regardless if I met you or not. I could have died after you left me regardless if I had become Spider-Man. I could die tomorrow for all I know!” You tried to knock some logic into Miguel.

Silence fell between the both of you. You shifted your weight from one foot to another,chuckling lightly. “For a Spider-Man, you are a coward, Miguel O’Hara.” You spat.

“There is no happily ever after for us, don’t you get it? Let’s just cut our losses here, let’s not tempt fate.” Miguel insisted, a pained look on his face. You smiled sadly at him, “It was nice seeing you O’Hara.” He stared as you walked off his platform.

“I did miss you, I will miss you.” Miguel admitted, finally getting it off his chest.

“Not enough apparently.”

You waved, turning your back against him and putting your mask back on.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for calling the police?

Tw: Abusive relationship/ mentions / discussions of suicide. I briefly talk about someone attempting (they're fine now!) but provide no further detail.

I used to date this guy that I will call R. R and I dated for two years and in those two years R was incredibly controlling. He would demand to know where I was at and who I was with at all times. Whenever we got into a disagreement about something (not necessarily an argument, just us not wanting to do something / someone doesn't like a certain thing) he would start crying and whining about how hard his life is and how we have to do things his way or the way he wanted. Essentially, a pity party. If guilt tripping me wouldn't work he would get loud and violent. He never hit me or put his hands on me, but he would often intimidate me by getting up in my face or destroying things one time he punched a hole through his bedroom door because I didn't want to stay the night. We're both in high-school and I have a curfew.

Anyway, a few months before R and I started dating my father attempted to take his own life. R was usually the one to comfort me during my dad's recovery and at first he was very kind and helpful with everything going on. Then over time R progressively got worse and that's why I'm in the current situation I am in.

I decided to break up with R because of all the things mentioned above and I felt the relationship was moving too quickly. He was already talking about us getting married and having kids (I'm 16!!!) and he even suggested I get a tattoo of his name when I turn 18.

R immediately had a break down and I quickly went home. I made sure to dump him in a public place in case he tried to do something but when I got home he left me a whole bunch of nasty texts ranging from "baby I'm sorry, take me back" to "I hate you, drop dead."

When I stopped responding to his texts and calls he threatened to kill himself. He knew it was a sore subject given what happened with my dad and he knew it would get a reaction out of me. He said if I didn't take him back he would hurt himself.

I broke down crying and told my mom and she told me to call the cops and so I did. When the police got there R's parents were confused and said that he was totally fine and acting normal. R literally lied to make me feel bad. R went around telling all our friends that I'm a bitch for calling the cops "for no reason" and now everyone at school said I was overreacting and he didn't do anything wrong. I had my closest friend say it was unnecessary because there was no real emergency.

I feel like shit right now, some people are pressuring me to get back together with him in case he's serious and others are saying I overreacted by calling the cops because there was no real emergency and I got R in trouble with his parents because of it.

I know this is probably stupid high school drama and because I'm young I don't know any better, but I genuinely don't know what to do right now. I felt it was justified given what happened to my dad, I didn't want R to end up like him.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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oncomingnight · 9 months

Text

Yandere! Rockstar

Hello everyone, I'd like to thank each and every single one of you for gifting me 300 supporters. I hope you all enjoy this piece and never hesitate to reach out to me.

Ahmad is mainly known for the incredibly romantic meanings that are behind his songs. His music contains lyrics of desperation and devotion, going right along with his strongly captivating voice. Endearing terms and stories of myth that are from his culture tend to make an appearance in his music, creating a deeper sense of mystique.

His closet is filled with dark colors; Leather jackets, silk blouses, high waisted suit pants, trench coats and long sleeved shirts. He dresses quite modestly for someone that's coined the name of 'rockstar' but his sense of fashion suits him incredibly well.

His fan base has recognized that every single one of his songs are about you. The way he describes the subject of his love suits your exact appearance, plus a track of his is named after you. His supporters have nothing but complete admiration for the relationship the two of you share.

His obsessive tendencies are laid bare when it comes to the lyrics he writes. Here's an example, " Baby, I'm yours and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, yours until the rivers all run dry, in other words until I die."

No matter what, you're always tagging along with him when he's on tour. If your job is an inconvenience, he'll make some adjustments so you're able to come with him. How is he expected to survive several months on end without the love of his life present? He won't be able to.

By adjustments I mean threatening your boss, but don't worry about that!

As the two of you are settled on your shared bed inside of the tour bus, he snugly lays his head onto your chest, doe eyes looking up at you, practically begging for you to run your fingers through his silky black hair.

When the two of you are able to wander around the city you're currently located in for a show, he purchases trinkets for you! He enjoys dragging you towards photo booths and commenting on how beautiful you look in every single photograph. "Take a look at this one, you look so gorgeous, حبيبة قلبى."

With anyone else, Ahmad would be described as incredibly reserved and quiet. But with you, he's got his hands all over you, brushing your hair back so he can kiss your forehead, asking about your day, "are you hungry? How was your day? Do you want to go out to the garden? I love you, I love you I love you, I lo-"

He's the type of guy to try and nestle up closer to you, even when your skin is flush togethaer.

Ahmad enjoys both cooking and baking, he takes great joy in seeing your cheeks fatten up for a split second as you bite into the food he made for you, your eyes closing in pure contentment. He used to bake out of stress and the itching need to just do something, but now you stepped into his life and now he does it to see you smile and groan about how much you loved your meal.

Another factor in his fashion is mini gold hoops, the material is important to his culture and he also enjoys how positively the jewelry slightly alters his appearance.

His social media is filled with photos that he took of his morning coffee, him in the studio, him and his friends but it's always mainly you. He'll caption a post of his with the words, "photo dump!" and it's just a bunch of photos he took of you.

You can't blame the man for being in love.

His fans aren't irritated by this, either, if anything they want to see more of you! They comment on his posts saying, "forget Ahmad, I want y/n", "yeah you're cool and all but where's our mom..?"

On the fridge in your shared home are tons of photos that are of you and him. Little magnets that he purchased whilst on tour holding them up.

Not only did he name a song about you but an entire album, it included songs describing the way he felt about you. "Pretty Woman" "The Look of Love" "I Only Want To Be With You" .

Hello everyone, I know this isn't my best work but I wanted to get something out for you guys! Have a nice day and night.

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fuck-customers · 3 days

Note

today, mar 25 2024, a woman came into my red hardware store and dumped her bag of returns on my counter. she said "i have a fucking return. it's all coming the fuck back. i don't need any of this fucking stuff" and i was instantly on edge because she's being loud and every other word was another f-bomb. and i GET IT i get swearing, i get being angry, but why the hell are you upset with me lol i looked at the pile of stuff and was like "oh did you buy this yesterday?" because i recognized the pile of items as things that i had personally rung up at some point. it's a bunch of electrical stuff like outlet covers and some solenoids or wtv. but god i shouldn't've said anything. because she snaps "No what the fuck. i bought this fucking weeks ago. and i dont fucking need it. so i'm returning it"

and i'm like.. damn ok, fine. she's digging for receipts. and has a huge stack of Orange Hardware store receipts. and i'm watching her flip through them and she snaps "go ahead and grab yours if you recognize it!" and i'm like 'uh.. ok i'm pretty sure that my store's receipt is this one' and i pointed at one (idk if its just the font but i recognized my store's receipt and yoinked it out.

so i start processing her return. she's like "ugh i need to go get my card from the car!" and i'm like ok, that's fine. she doesn't really need it for the return but 1) i want her to get away from me because i'm gonna call a manager she's being such an asshole. 2) her friend was looking for other stuff to buy.

she comes back in with her card. i'm like scanning and returning the items. 3 items i KNOW are NOT ours are on the pile. im like.. i don't want to deal with her trying to insist that they belong to our store. but i scan one. it beeps 'item not found' i go 'oh well these items aren't from our store, sorry i can't return them"

and she's like "i dont see how that's fucking possible! everything in that bag is from this fucking store!" and she's just absolutely shrieking. and i don't understand why she's mad, like i don't get it. the manager came up and was like 'we don't sell this product. sorry we can't do a return on it.'

she screams some more but accepts that they must be Orange Hardware and not Red Hardware. She goes out to "make a call while her friend shops"

and i swear to god that she was screaming at someone on the phone for next fourteen minutes and everyone inside the store could hear her from the parking lot. every other word out of this woman's mouth was "fuck" and it was setting my nerves on edge.

her friend finally came up to buy his shit. and it totals $77. she's standing at the door handing him her visa and she is PISSED that the total is $77. she says she doesn't understand how it could add up to that much. and im like uhmmmm.. they're plumping parts.. and the stupid toys you're buying for your grandkids pushed the total to $77 after tax.. either buy it or leave. i don't care

she ended up buying it but you could still hear her swearing up and down the parking lot as she was screaming on the phone with her mother (apparently) saying that she was going to need to be reimbursed for the shit she was buying

and i'm just like... goddamn, i dont care how awful your day is. don't take it out on employees or customers you asshat.

the only funny part about this is the fact that her name was actually Karen. which just made me laugh. but all the other staff had come up to the front to make sure i was okay while she was yelling. and she did get intimidated by some of the men and slink out while her friend paid for the stuff. but still.. a big yikes.

Posted by admin Rodney.

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molinaesque · 7 months

Text

Okay I mentioned that I had a bunch of Raphael thoughts and basically made a whole essay (in literally no actual format, this is just me vomiting out parsing thoughts and using it when lore dumping onto my friends). This is written based off of stuff you find in the game, some Wiki diving and my own thoughts.

Feel free to hit me up with some topics that we can talk about. And remember, these involve are my own thoughts and headcanons at the end of the day, so please act normally and don't come at me with pitchforks just because I have something that doesn't align with your specific HC.

A Prince's Tale: The Story of Raphael

In the universe of Faerûn, there exists a heaven and hell, or in this case the Heavens and the Hells. There are the Nine Hells of Baator, all ruled and lorded over by various archdevils. Raphael is the son of the ruler of the eighth circle of Hell, the archdevil, Mephistopheles. Raphael is a cambion which consists of a fiend and a mortal. Cambions then are considered "results of unnatural and unholy communion". In Raphael's case it's a bit more complicated because the fiend in this equation isn't just some lower being like an incubus or some other demon but a true Devil, making Raphael leagues above, both in power and rank, other typical Cambions, just purely due to his association and blood of being Mephistopheles' offspring.

The system in the Hells is extremely rigid and hierarchical (it's a system that has been upheld for eons. Many of the systems that make up the universe of D&D are as deeply rigid and rooted). Many of the themes of the characters of Baldur's Gate 3 consist of them either repeating the cycle or breaking its hold, which in the D&D verse is an extremely hard thing to do because of how long standing these systems are. In regards to the Hells, it works like a pyramid. The top of the food chain and order are the archdevils. There are many archdevils that reside and rule over each circle of the Hells, one however rules all and lives in the Ninth circle, Nessus; Asmodeus.

So what does Raphael want? The integral key item and centerpiece of the main plotline of BG3 dubbed only as 'The Crown', created by Karsus. Karsus was a very powerful, most would say perhaps THE most powerful wizard who ever lived. An archwizard/demi-god responsible for creating and casting a spell that would steal the power of a deity and transfer it to the archwizard who casted it. Eventually, this was a mistake, for one of the responsibilities of the deity of magic was to regulate the flow of magic to and from all beings, spells, and magic items in the world. He did not have the ability to do so properly, causing magic to surge and fluctuate, threatening that balance. This caused the flying cities of Netheril to plummet to the earth. The last thing Karsus sees is his entire civilization being destroyed because of his actions. This will be known as 'Karsus' Folly'.

Raphael tells you about this story and how he was there to witness it happen all those years ago. He wanted the Crown to himself but it was stolen and put into hiding. He later finds out that Mephistopheles, his father was the one responsible for stealing it. Now, here's a way to explain the fucked up power levels and why it plays so much of a factor especially in the Nine Hells. I mentioned how Raphael is not a typical Cambion, BUT even though he is technically a prince by birthright and a half true devil, it doesn't make a difference under the likes of archdevils like his father (who doesn't help at all with Raphael's behaviour because Mephistopheles is a MEGA asshole. I mean, there's a reason why Raphael never utilised his name to invoke influence and power, doesn't even call him father, that's how much he hates him. You only find out about it through Haarlep. He even had another child, a daughter, who he cared more about by making her a trusted double-agent against one of his rivals. Meanwhile, he treats Raphael like nothing and acts as if he doesn't exist for the most part). Basically, unless you are an archdevil in the Hells, you are never TRULY free. As power, literally = freedom in the Hells. Raphael realises this and so began his lifelong ambition to get that power. That came with the events of Karsus' Folly. Realising that this is the opportunity and power Raphael needed, he attempts to steal it only for it to be taken by none other than his own father. Now, you think "ah Mephistopheles wants that power for himself, right?" No. Here is how far apart the levels of power are between beings like Mephistopheles (beings such as archdevils/archwizards/demi-gods/gods/etc) and beings like Raphael, who is already a pretty substantial and powerful Devil by his own right.

Raphael has been coveting the Crown and its power for 10 centuries, a thousand years, essentially. It's his one source that can possibly give him the chance of taking even more control of the Hells and ultimately make him TRULY a free devil. It's his life's mission that has been going on until he's practically in his middle age in devil years (his human appearance showcases this, and we also see a younger Raphael in his devil form with Haarlep). Half of his (immortal) life. It is very crucial and important to him.

And yet… to Mephistopheles, it's just a souvenir. A trinket. Or as Raphael puts it, "a museum piece".

This, undoubtedly angered Raphael so much and made his hatred towards his father even more so (Raphael mentioned how he raged for a decade, understandably). The fact that not only does his father treat him as if he doesn't exist, but to add insult to injury, did this while mocking him by not taking him seriously. One of the things he did was to send an incubus, Haarlep, made and glamoured to be an exact copy of Raphael, to distract him. It could also be seen as a message of "here is my gift to you and it is one of the only few things that will ever be 'truly' yours; a copy of yourself". Raphael would have been the first image that Haarlep acquired, thus why the constant form that you see him with is of Raphael (Haarlep tells you this if you kill him and speak to his corpse). Haarlep's corpse also tells you that "Raphael only loves himself." I wonder why. Haarlep also has a contract that requires him to obtain 1000 souls (the runes on his harness have been translated to the number '1000') in order to be free. This is why the archivist in House of Hope tells you that special guests can reside in the boudoir, as this is a primary way for Haarlep to collect more souls. If you sleep with him, and allow him to have your heart and soul, you die. If you promise your body only, you live but he now has a full copy of you entirely. Additionally, we know Gortash was sold to be in Raphael's services when he was a boy. We know that Gortash and the other Chosen eventually stole the Crown from Mephistopheles' vault. What's interesting is if you explore the House of Hope, you can find a portal to the eighth circle of Hell, Cania, where Mephistopheles resides. I believe that Gortash utilized this to obtain the Crown. Imagine the sheer rage and embarrassment Raphael had to endure because of this. Not only did the Crown get snatched from under him once but TWICE. Once by his father, and then later by a boy who was under his charge. I can completely imagine Mephistopheles utilising that as additional ammo and lording that over Raphael's head.

In pertaining to Raphael's character and behavior, all of this explains additionally as to why Raphael is the way he is. It's selfish, insecure behavior that also explains the portraits he surrounds himself with. Notice how all the paintings are of his true form. He also has many lines of dialogue depending on what you pick during your various meetings where he truly gets angry. One of these lines is him shouting "I AM NO MORTAL" when you simply ask why he would succeed where Karsus had failed (which is ironic because, my guy, you are part mortal, so was Karsus but he was very powerful for many other reasons other than pure association and blood. Raphael even tells you how foolish of a notion it would be if you suggest that you could take the Crown for yourself, telling you that archdevils, wizards, and gods have worn the Crown, "it would tear you apart" he warns you). The portraits of his Devil form in House of Hope surrounding him is a way of constant reminder to himself of what he wants to be associated with. He HATES that he is part mortal (he has showcased his disdain for the mortal realm very clearly during your encounter in House of Hope) and wants to see himself as only a Devil. To say that dude's got major issues and complexes is a huge understatement. He's a deeply insecure being who's controlling and manipulative (most of it stemming from his father and his predicament of essentially living a half-life), but he's also a pragmatic, self-aware character. He's very much the epitome of Lawful Evil. If the players choose to only see him as a one note character who's just "self-centered and evil", you can. That's the beauty of Baldur's Gate. These things are true,but you can also add on top of that when you choose to find out and explore for more lore and characterization.

Interestingly, the way he treats someone who opposes him compared to those who don't are very stark in contrast. You see it with the prime examples of Hope (naming the house after her due to her being the one soul who he cannot convert and have on his team completely) and of her sister Korilla, who has mentioned that she loves being in service of Raphael completely as he has treated her with respect and given her more freedom than her previous master ever did, who in her own words, "constantly would beat me and feed me scraps". "Better to be free in the Hells than go begging in the Heavens", she tells you. She's also not blindly following Raphael or under any thrall. In fact she makes light of him and his antics to you completely of her own volition. She made a bet with Raphael whether you would survive and get to Baldur's Gate (which Raphael bet FOR you to succeed btw). You can find the Five Soul Coins they bet for in the safe hidden behind the portrait in HoH. And she doesn't sing his praises completely, saying that she's more skeptical of you than Raphael is and is fearful of how wrong he would be banking everything on you, saying "Raphael can be so very wrong". She basically tells you that Raphael won't shut up about you. She also tells you that Raphael is, in her own words, "by no means altruistic" and argues that Raphael truly wants to not have the world destroyed because it would simply mean, as she puts it "the boss did the balance sheets. No world, no souls". In fact, she BEGS you to reconsider if you didn't take the deal in the first place.

One could argue that Raphael residing in Avernus and having him in proximity of mortals more in comparison to the deeper levels of the Hells, gave him more perspective. He even tells you he doesn't want Baldur's Gate to be destroyed. He tells you, fondly, he couldn't possibly want that to happen because the city is "an object lesson of moral excess". Why would he want a huge primary source of deals and contracts for him gone. If you explore the House of Hope, many of his deals range from complex, twisted deals to simple, straightforward ones with no caveats (for example there is a debtor who tells you that he sold his soul for enough money to keep his family well fed. Done. No trickery. That was the end of it. Even the architect of Moonrise Towers attested to Raphael keeping his word and defeating Ketheric's forces way back then). In Raphael's own words, "I'm a man of my word" and he wasn't lying. There's a reason why he has practically a 99.9% conversion rate (his one big failure being Hope and why he's so obsessed with converting her is because he truly cannot understand how one can be so pure of a soul. She's a puzzle, and Raphael HATES it when he can't figure something out). If you're wondering why can't Raphael (or any other devil) force or lie about the contracts they have made, well that's literally by design. Asmodeus created a law that bars devils from doing so, and devils will get punished severely would they ever take advantage of that. That's also why devils have to be extra sneaky when being contractors because if they die, it doesn't matter. The contracts they made while still alive still stays intact until they are completed. Meanwhile, the contract just gets given to another devil. When Raphael tells you in HoH if you asked him for no more bloodshed, he tells you "you've given me no choice". He means this, as it would mean both you AND he would be punished regardless if he were to let it be.

Mol is another example of a straightforward transaction. He wasn't lying when he said he'll keep Mol safe from harm in exchange for becoming her patron. It's not for something nebulous like "she has to become the leader of the guild in the next 20 years" or something extreme, it was just "I'll be your patron in return for your safety and security". He sees her as a long standing investment. Raphael mentioned that he hates children, but there is ONE thing he values above all else and admires when he recognizes it. "Ambition." He tells you he sees that in Mol during the meeting at Last Light Inn. It's also believable that he sees himself in Mol (especially his younger self) and thought "I respect it and I get another easy contract. Win-win". The dude loves underdog stories since his own is practically one as well. In fact, Mol doesn't like it when you treat her condescendingly. If you remember the chess scene in Last Light Inn, there are ways she can lose but also various ways she can win (and no, you don't have to only pick helping her cheat for this to work). If you help her cheat, she wins. If you help her by giving her an offensive strategy, she wins (in fact Raphael knows that she cheated, and if she won legitimately, even comments about the move and stating that it's a legit maneuver in chess and praises Mol for it saying that it's "exactly what I would've done"). Either way, Raphael praises your suggestions when Mol leaves. If however, you don't offer advice, or tell Mol to be defensive, she looses, prompting Raphael to comment on how being non committal or weak will not help Mol in the long run. If you stole her contract, she doesn't mind it too much BUT if you killed Raphael and told her about it, she will HATE you. Hating how you killed her patron, "Big Raph" as she calls him, that would ensure her safety and security as long as she's under contract. It's another additional interesting subplot that doesn't really have anything to do with the grand scheme of the game, but adds even more layers to already fascinating characters.

This dichotomy is what makes Raphael a very complex and interesting character. He's a devil who wants Ultimate Power, make no mistake, but he also is pragmatic enough to realise that he does not want another "Karsus' Folly". In fact, he could have easily just done an Emperor to gain your trust wholeheartedly and then turn on you the moment you have the Crown. It would have been easier for him. But he chose to bank on you being a long term investment maybe even beyond the Crown, meeting you head on and reveal his true nature to you from the first meeting. If you listen to everything he tells you, he never actually lies, he omits things here and there, but he never lies to you (in fact if you become even more on his team, there is a line where he straight up tells you that he "likes you"). It's a similar relationship with Korilla, in that she has complete free will but is for his team. He mentions that he does not like it when people beg or kiss his ass (there are many examples of this, his conversation with Voss for one and also whenever you choose dialogue options that make you seem like a spineless whimp). He even tells you at points that he likes the way you do things (even if they're a bit unorthodox), and if you took his contract but chose to break it (or just stole the hammer, it's the same regardless), it makes it even more personal because he genuinely was shocked to find that you were the one breaking into his house. This is one of the few times we see Raphael truly angry. No fancy words, no charm, no smarmyness. Just anger and even sheer disappointment that you chose to, in his own words, "become like Karsus, disregarding everything and burning your world to ash" (remember, Raphael truly believes that his method with the hammer and Orpheus is the ONLY way to defeat the brain, that's the unfortunate part of obsessing and planning for this goal for so long that he truly believes there are no other alternatives. He mentions in one of his diaries that he has planned a dozen ways to obtain the Crown, but he concludes that there is only one way for it to actually work and it involves Orpheus, hence the creation and naming of "The Orphic Hammer". There's even a book about its creation in HoH). Hell, even one of the dialogue options where you say "there's no need for more bloodshed", you would think he'd just be like "HAHAHA evil dialogue, i planned this all along, you're nothing, blah blah" but instead he actually says in his own words, "I have no choice" because we know that breaking contracts means death, and death means he has to collect your soul. Even if you didn't sign the contract and break in, he still genuinely did not think you would go so far as to do such a thing especially with the offer he made to you. He basically blames you for being too proud to do such a thing.

Even when you don't take his contract at all, when you meet up with the Emperor again in the Astral Prism during the battle against the Netherbrain, choosing to betray the Emperor will cause Raphael to appear for a final time. Does he just offer you the contract again? Yes. But not before scolding you for being an idiot and genuinely being pissed off at you for not taking his deal to free Orpheus. He even tells you in his own words, "we could have been allies, partners… FRIENDS!" If you try to beg him for help, he shouts at you, saying how you are in no position to make demands anymore because of your reckless actions. You made your bed, you have to recognise it. If you still refuse his offer, he doesn't try to force you, or twist your arm in any way… he just tells you, quote, "Goodbye. It's been unforgettable" (which is his way of saying "i won't forget you… but i also won't forget how much of a fucking blind idiot you were) and then leaves you forever. If you take the deal, he tells you it's no longer as equals anymore, you are now considered a lowly servant to him. He genuinely wanted you to be partners, but doing all of this basically leads him to conclude that you aren't worth it anymore. The way the writers chose to have the Emperor and Raphael parallel each other but in different ways is genius. They are two sides of the same coin. Both want true freedom, both try to manipulate Tav, the main characters for their own cause, both are extremely pragmatic and set in their own ways and goals. The irony is that instead of portraying Raphael as this pure scheming, one note character - is flipped on it's head by making him honestly, one of the most truthful characters in the game. It's just that he's a Devil. As Korilla states when you ask her back at the brothel, "why can't Raphael just be clear with me if we are on the same team?" she tells you as if explaining that the sky is blue…

"He's a Devil. It's in his nature. He has to make his dues."

This speaks of how ancient and deeply rooted these laws and systems work in their universe. Typically, characters says stuff like this to be hyperbolic/dramatic. But in the case of Raphael as a Devil, she means this literally, as souls keep the Hells functionable, and as we know by now, souls = power, and more power = more freedom.

Now, to address the epilogue and what happens if you do make the pact with him and delivered upon your promise. He comes to you and tells you that he and his forces are already taking over Avernus and overthrew Zariel. He tells you that he has various archdevils already coming to him to make concessions, his father included. He also tells you that he'll be knocking on your door soon. This is open to interpretation, but remember he has sworn to you during your deal that he would never use the Crown on a mortal (trust me, with his obsession with the Hells and how he envisioned on ruling it, in his own words "more order, efficiency, and control", he is definitely more interested in dominating the Hells only, it's too much work anyhow to be interested in anything else. Also he swore to you as part of the contract, he literally cannot break this, if he does, it's immediate punishment for him, so he's not lying). So, more than likely, he finds you to be a very important potential ally to further work with in the future. Also, depending on how early you signed the contract, his tone/line can be interpreted VERY differently.

Now here's the most interesting part… if you aren't familliar with D&D lore, that epilogue would lead you to believe "oh damn he's going to be ruler of the Nine Hells just like he wanted, good for him", but that's easier said than done. Because not only the deeper the Hells go, the more powerful these archdevils will be. I have no trepidation about him defeating them or them conceding to him, that's already happening. The one obstacle he truly needs to worry about… is the keeper of the Ninth Hell, the ruler of all the Nine Hells of Baator, Asmodeus. The creator and overlord himself. Just to give you a concept of how the power levels work in D&D… level 12 and above, are almost levels of godhood. Think the likes of Hercules. At the level Asmodeus is at, however, a former deity (speculative) and creator of the laws and system that permits the balance of life and the universe itself, Raphael even with the Crown will have… a VERY slim chance of overruling him. At the very least he could take over the other realms or instill his way of order and control, and appeal to Asmodeus, because funny enough, Asmodeus' personality and behaviour and goals is VERY similar and akin to Raphael's (Asmodeus is the primal embodiment of Lawful Evil and a supreme strategist of unparalleled skill. He's good at warfare but even better at words, planning, and subterfuge). Another thing is Raphael might even change his own mind, because Asmodeus isn't just the ruler of the Hells, his primary existence is to keep the balance of life and death and the existing universe in check. I personally don't see Raphael being interested in such a huge responsibility but that's another topic for another day.

Another fun fact, many of the characters in D&D are existing characters in various cultural stories/mythologies. Many of the archdevils included with the likes of Mephistopheles, Baalzebub, Mammon, and yes even Asmodeus. The writers most likely looked to biblical texts for inspiration of Raphael, but the irony is they took the one famous character in Christian biblical text, Raphael, who is not a devil, but an archangel and then flipped that character on its head. One of archangel Raphael's most famous stories is literally called, 'the Battle Against Asmodeus', where Raphael fights against Asmodeus, a fallen cherub and dubbed, "personal adversary" of Raphael. What's even cooler? The battle was not one of might, but of intelligence, wisdom and influence. Exactly like how D&D's own Raphael and Asmodeus operate. Raphael certainly takes more after Asmodeus than he does his own father.

Speaking of which, what about his father? Raphael mentions that he was there amongst the midst of other archdevils coming to Raphael to make concessions. Raphael is smart enough to know, though, that his father is not there solely out of "you did it, my boy" or anything like that, or perceiving him as a true threat still. Besides knowing how Raphael is seen by Mephistopheles, back at the diabolisk shop, there is an orb charmed to keep an eye on Raphael at all times. If you had defeated him in House of Hope, you will witness Mephistopheles holding the broken body of Raphael over his mouth and eating him. It's a nod to 'Saturn/Kronos eating his son(s)'. Basically, if you chose this ending for Raphael, you close the circle and end this story of Jacobean tragedy of an underdog prince who has been seeking validation and freedom from the sheer inescapable nature of the Hells and it's systems. In a way Raphael also has the same themes of your other companions who are also trying to navigate their fates. Whether to repeat that cycle in perpetuity or break free of it, it all hinges upon your choices throughout this journey of Baldur's Gate 3. Basically, Mephistopheles is just waiting patiently to witness his own son's downfall should he become overzealous and overtly ambitious, before swooping in to consume his son and all that additional power for himself, power that he doesn't even need, mind you. He's just there for the vibes, and to add even more pressure on his son. Parents, amirite?

If you're on team Raphael (like me) and gave him the ending he wants, the only thing I can really say is "Good luck, little prince. I'm actually rooting for you. You're going to need it."

Will our little princeling be able to break out of his own cycle and come out on top? Will Raphael be able to even get to the ninth circle let alone confront Asmodeus? Will Raphael finally get one over his dear ol' dad? Will Raphael ever get to finally make due on his promise ("I'm a man of my word"), and have that wine with Tav?

Hard to say, for his journey is just beginning.

#Raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #Text #bg3 hc #Again PLEASE do not come to my inbox with some contentious stuff... I KNOW how some of you think esp in a bigger fandom #I'm too old for that shit so don't even try #I'm just here to vibe and make gifs and do fanart #bg3 thoughts

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