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#which takes effort and this bus is warm
dullahandyke · 1 month
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Ok whatever I got tired making a Sprite edit for the header so this shits gonna look incomplete for a hot minute
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avatar-anna · 7 months
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Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist
2013
"Mr. Styles? Mr. Styles, you need to get up. You have a radio interview in an hour."
There was no response, but Y/n expected that. Her boss had a tendency of sleeping like the dead, a side effect of partying too long the night before.
Sighing, Y/n stepped further into the lavish hotel suite. Her first instinct was to check the tour bus, but she should've known better. LA always meant a hotel suite. When she finally made it to her boss's room, she only had to follow the trail of clothes leading to the huge bed and there he was. She also noted a separate head of hair tucked beneath the covers. A headache, seeing as that meant a trip to the legal department and an awkward conversation with said headache. But that was the job. And Y/n was nothing if not exceptional at being Harry Styles's personal assistant.
Walking over to Harry's side of the bed, Y/n shook his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath her hand, but she didn't focus on that or the corded muscle that hadn't been there a few months ago. Those boxing lessons really were paying off.
"Mr. Styles, please don't make me get the bucket," Y/n said, shaking his shoulder one last time. When he didn't move, she stepped away to grab the champagne bucket she knew was in the fridge. Harry always had one in his room, but at Y/n's request, not his. 
Before she could grab it though, a voice sounded from the mountain of pillows and blankets. "Please don't. I hate the bucket."
Shaking her head, Y/n told the voice, "If you woke up when you were supposed to, I wouldn't have to use it."
"Your hands are soft but cruel, Y/n," he said, his voice deeper than it normally was.
"You've got thirty minutes to wash last night off and get dressed," was all she said in reply, but there was a small grin on her face.
As far as bosses went, Harry Styles wasn't the worst. He was sweet and not a total diva, which made Y/n's life a lot easier. He was a young guy with a lot of money and fame, though, and that meant waking him up from deep, hangover-induced sleep was the norm, and getting him to arrive on time anywhere was pretty much impossible. But he didn't make her life miserable, and for that she was thankful.
When she made sure Harry was actually out of bed and getting ready, Y/n went about her usual routine—making sure a car was ready to drive them to the radio station, ordering room service, setting out a bottle of water, three Advil, and a bullet coffee from Harry's favorite coffee house when he was in LA on the dining table in the main room of the suite. Room service arrived as she heard the shower shut off, and after checking her watch, Y/n deigned to believe they might not be that late today. A win in her book.
Ten minutes later, Harry was out of the master bedroom in a pair of black skinny jeans and a Stones t-shirt. His hair was damp and unstyled—an easy fix in the car—and his face was surprisingly fresh looking despite his late night. His eyes landed on the water and Advil first, quickly swiping those off the dining table, then saw the plates of food Y/n was helping herself to.
"Leave some for me?" he asked, throwing the pills back and downing them in one gulp.
Y/n shrugged. "Got you something better."
"What's better than Belgian waffles and bacon?"
"I might've popped over to the Beachwood Cafe this morning," she said, grinning when her words dawned on Harry.
"Breakfast burrito?"
"Mmhm."
"And the toast with the special jam?"
"What do you take me for?"
"You're the best, Y/n," Harry gushed, coming around the table to squeeze her. 
For a moment, Y/n’s senses could only process Harry's cologne, a scent that wasn't too overwhelming but definitely there. And when her nose pressed against his neck, she had to make a conscious effort to not breathe in deep. Instead, she shifted in his embrace and plucked a slice of bacon off her plate to hand to him.
As difficult as he could be sometimes, Harry Styles really was a sweetheart. Since she'd started working for him a year ago, he'd been nothing but gracious to her. He always went out of his way to talk to her when he didn't have to, he never raised his voice when things that were out of her control went wrong, he hung out with her in his dressing room when she worked on his schedule or answered emails before his shows, and the Christmas bonus he'd given her this year was unlike anything she'd received before. Y/n had been unsure of what to expect when she took this job, but after nearly a year, she and Harry operated like a well-oiled machine, and she liked to believe that even though he was her boss, they were at the very least acquaintances.
"Is the car ready?" Harry asked around a bite of bacon.
"Yeah, head down there. I'll handle…" Y/n's voice trailed off as she nodded in the direction of the master bedroom, where Harry's guest had yet to hear.
"Right, um…"
Y/n pinned him with a stare. "This is a new low, Mr. Styles."
"I know. I swear I know it, it's the alcohol fog," he insisted, but they both knew that didn't make it any better. "And for the last time, it's Harry."
Shaking her head, Y/n motioned to the door. "Go, or you're gonna be late."
He didn't put up much of a fight after that. He grabbed his coffee and breakfast and headed for the door, but not before squeezing Y/n's shoulder affectionately. "You really are the best, Y/n. I'm gonna give you a raise."
"That's my third raise this year!" Y/n said, calling after him as he walked out.
"You deserve it! Just say thank you!" he said with a wave, then he was gone.
Y/n sat in silence for a moment, her cheeks flushing involuntarily. She swore it was that he was uncharacteristically kind for a celebrity. Harry was just charming and endearing, that was why she was blushing.
"Harry?"
A voice coming from the bedroom brought Y/n back to earth. Harry might have gone to his interview, but her job was far from done. Sighing, she pulled out a folder where she kept all her legal documents out of her bag, rifling through the color-coded tabs until she landed on the purple one. She slipped a piece of paper out, then snagged a pen from a smaller pocket in her purse.
Readying herself for what would be a less-than-pleasant conversation, Y/n clutched the NDA in her hand and went to greet the woman who would no doubt be disappointed to see her instead of the man she thought she seduced the night before.
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woso-fan13 · 8 months
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Sicktember 2023: 11
Beginner’s Guide To Faking Sick
In an effort to assess the team’s fitness and any improvement in performance, someone thought it would be a good idea to have fitness testing twice- once on the first day and once on the last. You would really like to talk to the person who made this decision, because they need to know that they just made twenty-some new enemies. 
Everyone had been complaining about it since it was announced, and you had been very vocal about how much you were not looking forward to the beep test specifically. 
Andi had the pleasure of being your roommate, which meant she also had the pleasure of being the person who had to drag you out of bed in the mornings. She’s lucky you’re relatively easy to get out of bed, she could have been stuck with a lot worse. 
—-
“Y/N, come on. You need to get up, the bus leaves in 20 minutes,” Andi’s voice woke you. 
You groan, “Ands, my head really hurts. Can I please go back to sleep?”
You hear footsteps before you feel a hand pressing against your forehead. 
“You don’t have a fever, you’re fine.”
“Andi, please. It really hurts,” your voice is quiet. 
“Y/N, I’m not stupid, I know you’re trying to get out of fitness testing. Next time, commit fully to faking sick if you want to skip. It’s a little embarrassing, I was better at faking sick when I was in elementary school.”
“‘m not lying, I promise. My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
“I’m leaving,” Andi sighs, “be downstairs and ready to go in 15 minutes. Take some Tylenol if your head hurts that bad, and get up. If you really want to stay in your bed, you’ll have plenty of time when you’re dropped from the team for skipping.”
With that, you hear the door open and shut as Andi leaves. The girl really was all about tough love, which was usually good. She could always push you to reach a new best, never accepting any excuses.  
Just this once, you wished she would. But you knew she was right, Coach had dropped people for less than missing fitness testing. So you pulled yourself out of bed, got yourself together, and headed to the lobby. 
Your steps were slow and somewhat wobbly. Which made sense, because your head was spinning and felt like it was being split in half. But you made it to the elevator and stumbled into the lobby, joining the group of players. 
Andi, noticing your presence, walks over and slings her arm around your shoulder. Leaning down, she whispers to you. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t need to be so harsh this morning. I was just frustrated and I really couldn’t put up with your antics. We’re fine, right?”
You force a smile onto your face, “of course, Ands. Sorry for being so stubborn.”
If Andi hadn’t believed you earlier, you knew she wouldn’t believe you now. So you decided that you would mind-over-matter your way through the situation. If you pretended you felt normal, you eventually would feel normal, right?
—-
You didn’t even make it through the warm up. You managed through stretches, but you only made it about halfway around the field when your body decided to prove to Andi that you weren’t a liar. 
With a thud, you dropped to the ground. Everyone froze for a moment looking towards you, as if waiting for you to stand up. Instead, you began seizing. 
Everyone took off running, the vets crouching around you and shooing the younger players away. Andi, who had crouched by your head, watched in horror as you began throwing up, your seizure still not breaking. 
As the medics arrived, they quickly pushed everyone back. Andi begged to stay, and she was finally allowed to if she promised not to get in the way. She was directed to your feet, and she grabbed your ankle tightly. 
She watched as they shine a flashlight in your eyes, speaking rapidly. She catches words such as “dilated” and “uneven” and she knows enough to know that those aren’t good. 
But she doesn’t know what could have happened. A headache wouldn’t cause this, and you were fine yesterday. You had played the full 90 and scored two goals against the Canadian team. You had been totally fin- oh. 
Andi’s thoughts screech to a halt. In the 91st minute, you had gone in for a header and had been instead met with the goalie’s fist. You had landed on your feet though, and you seemed okay. There had only been a few minutes of injury time left, and the ref had waved off the medics and resumed play. 
By the time that the final whistle blew, it seemed that everyone had forgotten about your injury. The medics didn’t come or pull you aside in the locker room, Coach had been too busy doing whatever he does to check in on you. And your teammates had been distracted with celebrating the win to remember that you had taken a serious knock. The only person who seemed to remember was the goalie, who had asked mainly out of guilt if you were fine. 
(of course, the fans remembered. when you were finally cleared to use screens, you would see edits of you being hit and then swaying on the pitch as everyone forgot about you. not how you wanted to go viral.)
No one had noticed that you had skipped out on the celebrations to go to bed once you had returned to the hotel. The only person who had any clue that something was wrong had told you off for lying. No one even knew until you hit the ground. 
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arabellavernierwrites · 11 months
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doctor’s orders. s.r.
summary : you return home to find your boyfriend sick on the couch , you’re more than happy to take care of him.
word count : 796
warnings : mentions of illness
a/n : hello ! so wonderful to see you again. thank you so much for all of the incredible support you all have been continuing to show me. as a writer , each and every single read means so much to me. hearing what some of you have to say about my work genuinely has me over the moon. i have been thinking a lot about what i want to write next , so if you have any ideas of requests , please send them ! my ask as well as messages are open for anyone who wants me to write anything for you ! it would make me so happy to do so. again, thank you so much for the continued support. have an incredible , amazing , wonderful day ! love you all !
you had arrived home from the grocery store earlier than anticipated. on your rare day off, you decided to catch up on some much-needed housework. restock the fridge, fix the sink’s squeaky handle, and clean every square inch of the place.
an armful of bleach, lysol, and mr clean awaited you. as lame as it sounded, these were the kinds of days that you looked forward to. clean house, clean mind, you always said.
you unlocked the front door, teetering bags of groceries in hand. you nearly tripped over your boyfriend’s giant shoes in the doorway. you frowned, puzzled. spencer must’ve been home early as well.
“spencer?” you called out, setting your gathering of groceries on the kitchen counter.
“hi,” a small voice called out from the couch.
everything he had brought to work that day was now strewn across the living room and kitchen. his shoes, sweater, and satchel littered the floor. his badge and gun were tossed on the coffee table, and his body was lazily thrown on the cushions beneath him. he was a mess. which for spencer reid, was out of character.
“you’re home early,” you smiled, kicking your shoes off as you approached him.
“it was hotch, he sent me home. i don’t feel very well,” he complained, rolling his head in your direction.
you kneeled next to him, gently brushing his hair out of his face, “poor thing, your head is warm”.
“my body aches,” he scrunched his eyebrows together, something he often does when experiencing discomfort.
“well, let’s get you out of those clothes and into bed. you need sleep,” you stood up, reaching out to pull him off the couch.
“i can do it, i don’t want you to get sick too,” he groaned, letting you handle most of the lifting.
“dr reid clocked out when you left work, i’m the doctor now. and you need to get your ass in bed. doctor’s orders,” you ordered, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him to the bedroom.
spencer leaned heavily on you “yes ma’am”.
you sat him on the edge of the mattress, filing through the stacks of folded clothing in his drawers. after sorting through his organized wardrobe, you picked out a t-shirt and pair of pajama pants for him to put on. unsure of whether or not he needed assistance, you let him begin to dress himself.
standing with slightly wobbly legs, he winced as he slowly slid his clothes off.
“you’re sure you didn’t get hit by a bus on the way to work?” you asked, observing his unsteady movements.
“it feels like i did,��� he responded, pulling the on pajama pants you picked for him.
he was doing well, but started noticeably slumping over from the effort it took to change out of his professional attire.
“are you hungry? i just went to the store,” you asked, grabbing his shirt from the bed, “sit down”.
“not yet, i think i need to lie down first,” he reached out, placing a hand on the side of your thigh, “thank you”.
despite making an effort to not let anyone know, spencer adored being cared for. he loved when you combed his hair or shaved his face, or applied little dots of moisturizer to his face when getting ready for bed. whatever it was, he treasured you looking after him.
you put his shirt over his head, raising his arms through each hole, “i’ll make you some soup whenever you’re ready”.
spencer stood up as you pulled the comforter down. he climbed in and groaned, trying to make himself comfortable.
after moving around a bit, he finally settled.
you gently pushed his hair from his eyes, your hand settling on his cheek, “get some sleep. i’ll be putting groceries away”.
he nodded and you kissed him on the head before you left.
hours had passed.
spencer passed out quickly, hardly even tossing and turning as he slept. organizing everything from the store, cleaning most of the house, and watching a movie had kept you occupied for a while. the second movie of the night was playing as you stretched yourself out on the couch.
the sound of the bedroom door creaking open caught your attention. you turned your head to see spencer emerging from the doorway.
“can i join you?” he asked, standing off to the side of the television.
“come here, baby,” you opened your arms to gather him.
he lied down between your legs, softly resting his head on your lap as he wrapped his long arms around your torso.
kneading your fingers through his hair, you stopped to set your hands between his shoulder blades, “i thought you didn’t want to get me sick”.
you felt him smile against your leg, “doctor’s orders”.
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geonwooz · 7 months
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♡ PRETTY YOU — KIM GUNWOO
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gunwoo x fem!reader | wc : 0.5k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, fluff, swearing, strangers to friends (?)
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“ah, fuck my life.”
you cursed your luck, sitting at the bus stop while contemplating your life decisions.
should've watched my step. you wondered, looking down at your arm, which was in a cast. but i could've sworn that step wasn't there before.
after a minor accident that resulted in your arm in a cast, you were informed you had an appointment for your passport picture.
and with your roommate away for the weekend, you had absolutely no one to help you. it took you all your effort to get your clothes prim and proper, but you forgot about your hair in the process.
upon seeing your phone's reflection, you realized you needed to be absolutely professional for the picture — and this meant having a proper hairstyle.
and as a last resort, you took a deep breath, turning towards the male beside you who was also waiting for the bus. he looks nice. you wondered, politely smiling.
“hi. i’m really sorry for disturbing you,” you apologized as you greeted him. “but could you please help me tie my hair?”
kim gunwoo seemed confused at first, wondering why you were asking him before he saw the cast on your arm.
“i, uh, haven’t really done this before,” he admitted honestly, feeling bad when he saw your mood deflate. “i could try, though.”
“that’d be much appreciated,” you thanked him. “i have to get my passport pictures done, and my roommate’s also not home. i’m really sorry for troubling you like this!”
you felt terrible, and weirdly enough, that brought a smile to gunwoo’s face. he knew you genuinely meant every word you spoke, and your politeness warmed his heart.
“i’ll touch your hair now,” he announced awkwardly, standing behind you as he gathered your hair in his hand. “is your fracture really bad? does it hurt?” he asked, trying to make some conversation as he tried to figure out what to do.
“it’s a minor one, but it hurts a lot more than i thought,” you replied, oddly feeling comfortable with this stranger. “i’m sorry about this, really.”
gunwoo chuckled, shaking his head, though you couldn’t see it. “it’s alright. if anything, i’m sorry if i’m doing anything wrong,” he apologized. “i don’t want you to ruin your picture because of me,” he muttered.
his touch on your hair was very gentle, and you could feel him trying his best, and you deeply appreciated that.
once he had tied your hair, gunwoo stood in front of you, taming your flyaways before taking out his phone and turning the camera towards you.
"wah!" you exclaimed, totally in awe. “you are really good at this! thank you very much!”
the male only smiled in response, relieved to hear his shoddy work of tying your hair was acceptable. “well, that’s a relief,” he muttered, nodding politely as he moved away.
“seriously, i mean it,” you commented, grateful for the help. “it came out so pretty. i can't believe you’ve never done this before!”
the raven-haired male shyly smiled as he looked at you, admiring the absolute golden retriever energy that was radiating off you.
for the first time in his life, kim gunwoo wanted to get to know someone, and the someone who pulled on his heartstrings was none other than you.
“ah, well, i’m glad i was able to pull off a pretty hairstyle for a pretty you.”
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TAGLIST :: @missscarlettangel (TO BE ADDED, PLEASE COMMENT, SEND AN ASK OR DM!)
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astrialuvs · 5 months
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"Timeless Gift"
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➻ SYNOPSIS : Akaashi Keiji doesn't mind celebrating his birthday late, as long as your with him.
➻ PAIRING : akaashi keiji x reader
➻ GENRE : fluff, established relationship
➻ WORD COUNT :
a/n: this is a repost from my old account, so if ever you find this scenario familiar, then probably you've read it ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ).
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You tried everything that you could do to get out of work early and rush home to your shared home with Akaashi. Today was no ordinary day; it was his birthday, a special day in your heart. Nonetheless, despite your best efforts, work demands held you captive, stretching time as if to test your patience.
Your boss gave you additional paperwork, further tying you to your desk. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips, your thoughts drifting to Akaashi and the quiet celebration you had planned for him. He understood the nature of your job, but you wished you could be there with him, sharing his joy.
You quickly messaged Akaashi, apologizing for the delay and explaining the scenario at hand. His words were a soothing balm to your worries, and his response was as understanding as ever. "Take your time, love. I'll be here, waiting for you."
You rushed out of the office to catch the bus, your thoughts racing with plans for the evening ahead. The sun had long since departed, leaving the sky in the embrace of the night. The moon basked in its silvery glow, bestowing a delicate radiance on the surroundings. The familiar lampposts seemed to direct your steps as you dashed towards the house, your heart thumping with excitement.
As you walked into your house, the soft glow of the kitchen light greeted you, and the aroma of a home-cooked meal filled the air. Your gaze was drawn to Akaashi, who sat on a stool at the kitchen counter with a tablet in hand and a small cake in front of him. The sight of him, surrounded by the warm ambiance of the room and his efforts for the evening, melted away the day's stress.
"I'm home!" you declared, your voice tinged with relief and excitement.
Akaashi's gaze lifted from his tablet, his blue eyes locking onto yours. A genuine smile appeared on his lips, a silent reassurance that you were exactly where you belonged. He rose from the stool, taking measured steps to close the gap between you.
"I'm sorry-" A sigh escaped your lips as he cut you off, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace, and you nestled into his warmth. His hand found its way to your hair, his fingers gently combing through the strands. He kissed the crown of your head softly, which felt both comforting and intimate.
You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his with regret and affection. You found solace in Akaashi's gaze, which held an understanding that went beyond words.
"It's okay, (Y/N)," he reassured you, his thumb gently tracing a line along your cheekbone. "I know how demanding your work can be."
As his words washed over you, the weight of the day seemed to lighten. You leaned into his touch, your heart aching from his unwavering support.
As he held you close, your gaze was drawn to your left hand, where the gleaming engagement ring graced your finger. It was a testament to your shared journey and a promise to spend the rest of your lives together. Akaashi's presence, patience, and love were the constants that kept you grounded in times like these.
"Keiji, happy birthday," you said softly, your voice full of genuine affection.
For a brief moment, Akaashi's grip on you tightened. His grip was a silent confirmation of his emotions. He leaned in for a tender kiss, his lips brushing against your brow. "Thank you, (Y/N). Having you here is the best gift I could ever receive."
Time seemed to stand still at that moment, and the stresses of the day faded into insignificance. The bond you shared with Akaashi was unbreakable, forged through comprehension, patience, and love. He knew that being with you was the truest form of celebration, as you looked at him.
"Let's make the most of the time we have," he gently stated, his gaze never leaving yours.
You curled your lips into a soft smile and nodded.
So the two of you set out on an evening filled with laughter, shared stories, and the comfort of being in each other's company. Akaashi's delicious meal was savored slowly, each bite signifying your appreciation for the love and effort he put into it.
As the night progressed, you realized that, while your arrival had been delayed, the essence of the celebration had not changed. The day was complete with Akaashi by your side, and the love you shared transcended the limitations of time.
You knew that each moment spent together was a gift worth cherishing as you looked into Akaashi's eyes, his gaze creating the promise of many more celebrations in the future.aka
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archonsoflove · 8 months
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Law and Order
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Zhongli/Tartaglia/Neuvilette
CW: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M/M, Mating & Breeding, Scent Marking
Word Count: 4.6k
-------> MASTERLIST
-------> Read on AO3
-------> Part Two: Hunger
Part One | Insatiable
“Zhongli, baobei, wouldn’t it be lovely to travel to Fontaine?” Ajax sat across from Zhongli at their usual table at Wanmin Restaurant, a basket of crystal shrimp between the two of them. “We’d be able to visit museums, do wine tastings, and browse antique stores. It paints a pretty picture, doesn’t it?”
Zhongli gave Ajax a flat look from the other side of the table, far from pleased. “Ajax, you know as well as anyone else that I have seen everything I will ever need to in my lifetime. There are certain places I don’t wish to visit twice.”
“What?” Ajax leaned forward; eyebrows raised in that mischievous way that Zhongli adored. “Don’t tell me you don’t get along with the Hydro Archon? Is that what this is about?”
The old dragon coughed into his hand, quickly making use of his chopsticks to snatch up a shrimp.
“Zhongli, no…” bewilderment lit up Ajax’s eyes, widened and ecstatic in realization. “You mean to tell me you will forfeit a vacation in Fontaine because of her?”
“Yes.”
And Ajax simply could not take no for an answer.
~
“Ajax, if you try and feed me any more ginger sweets, I fear your kindness will be rejected by my stomach and prove your efforts futile.”
While dragons and adeptal beasts were known for their immunity to most human ailments, it seemed Morax’s human form was not. Zhongli knew for a fact that the ocean was not his friend – Osial end him – and seasickness even less so.
Ajax sat down next to him on the bed in their cabin, a tentative hand coming to rest on his bare shoulder. The billowing white poet nightshirt hung to one side, proving to be a sorry sight against Zhongli’s dishevelled form.
“If I’d known Rex Lapis was prone to seasickness, I’d have put you on a ship a long time ago,” Ajax teased.
Zhongli face went ashen at the thought.
“I’d much prefer it if we spoke of something else.”
Fontaine was beautiful. And elegant. Just as Zhongli had remembered it to be. Tall architecture, in creams and soft hues of blue that were gentle on the eye, lay before them. The crisp scent of freshwater melding with Sumeru’s ocean across the main harbour did not go unnoticed by his keen sense of smell.
“Would you look at that?” Ajax whistled softly as the land far below them passed by in a blur.
The Aquabus moved quite fast, and with the railings so low, Zhongli wondered for a passing moment if passengers had ever toppled over.
“Such fine machinery,” Zhongli hummed in agreement, keeping his hand tightly grasped in Ajax’s. Heights were something he was not fond of, if he could help it.
Zhongli felt as if he were still moving when they finally reached the port – and solid ground. A small creature, which he could only assume was a Melusine, passed them their luggage. He sat down on the bench to watch the bus depart once again, head still spinning from vertigo.
Ajax looked beautiful when he was in his own element. Dull blue eyes were now alight with keen interest and the bustle of a new city. And something warm bloomed in Zhongli’s chest, knowing he’d get to wander these streets with someone he loved. It had been a long time since he had indulged in the pleasantries of travel, especially with good company.
“While Fontaine has remained at the forefront of technology in recent years, it’s charming that they’ve held on to a more traditional style for their interior design.”
Ajax’s smile was genuine, eyes never leaving Zhongli’s face. It seemed there were some small ways in which he could surprise an Archon.  
Hotel Debord had always welcomed the Northland Bank’s investments with open arms, and it seems that generosity was extended towards their employees as well. Their hotel room was a grand suite, bookcases lining one wall, cerulean and golden rimmed antiques on the other behind glass casing.
“And silk sheets?” Zhongli stepped over to the bed, running bare fingers over the golden silk, eyes dark amber in the soft lighting. “If I am correct, Fontaine takes pride in the quality of their silk productions, and much of their materials come from the Melusines…though I haven’t been able to meet with such a creature long enough to ask.”
Ajax dropped their suitcases by the foot of the bed and toed off his boots. His feet sank deliciously into the plush carpeting, and for a second, he thought it best they stay in for the evening... But! This was Fontaine.  And the nightlife waited for no one.
Zhongli felt Ajax’s arms slip around his waist, breaking him from his thoughts of silks and tradesmanship. Ajax laughed softly at the small purr emanating from his lover’s chest, placing a small kiss in the hollow beneath his ear. He would never get enough of this man, and his mind, forever racing from thought to thought, constantly lost in history from decades past.
“I’m sure you’ll meet many people while we are here. But for now, shall we go out for the evening? Indulge a little?”
Zhongli hummed in agreement, arching his neck for Ajax to leave a small bite in the junction between his neck and shoulder. A flash of something hot and dangerous crackled up his spine, and he turned around in Ajax’s arms to face him.
“Dining with you would be my pleasure,” Zhongli whispered softly, his lips brushing the shell of Ajax’s ear. The involuntary shiver that passed through Ajax did not go unnoticed, and it made Zhongli’s lips tilt up in that humoured and sly way of his.
And it was always like that with them, the constant push and pull of their nature. It was one of the reasons why Zhongli loved him so dearly.
Café Lucerne was in the heart of the Court of Fontaine, and Ajax did not for one second let go of Zhongli’s hand as they walked through the bustling streets. No one spared a second glance at them, too lost in their own affairs, and for that Zhongli was thankful. In Liyue, people were much more observant.
“While Café Lucerne is a café, they have wonderful food,” Ajax told him, a dashing smile complimenting the blush high on his cheeks. “It’s much different to our dining experiences at home.”
The sun had been unforgiving when they’d travelled through to Romaritime Harbour, and it seemed he was a touch sunkissed. And Zhongli’s heart swelled with fondness upon hearing home. Ajax thought of his land as home.
“What am I going to do with you?” He found himself saying, a smile tugging at his own lips as he allowed Ajax to drag him along.
A soft snort from the Snezhnayan. “You are going to take me to dinner, Zhongli.”
And what kind of lover would Zhongli be to deny him?
“Good evening,” a waitress ushered them to their table, her golden hair slicked back into a bun. “I will be back shortly to take your order.”
“This is quaint,” Zhongli commented, taking in the antique and fine clothing stores across from them. He swore he saw a dog with a bonnet, but it may have been a trick of the evening light.
“It is, isn’t it?” Ajax sighed wistfully and reached for a menu. “I’ve heard that you can debate and speak of any topics at Lucerne, as long as you don’t bring up death.”
Zhongli had to laugh at that.
“And, if you do, they will ban you.”
“However have you managed to not get banned when you last visited?”
Ajax smiled and met Zhongli’s gaze, his heart fluttering at the adoration he found in bright cor lapis.
“If you must know, I got quite drunk that last time I was here. A man was convinced he was an apple tree and wanted to “become one with the soil”, and so I told him to go drown himself instead.”
Zhongli frowned at that.
“It was a joke of course! I just found it absurd at the time, and I later found out his friends did bury him in the sand.”
“Fontaine’s people are stranger than I remember.”
~
Arouet had brewed them a perfect cup of coffee, with rich cream and milk. Ajax had insisted on having desert before dinner, and Zhongli basked in the leisurely nature of the evening.
“Sumeru’s coffee is richer in flavour,” was Zhongli’s conclusion. Ajax was crestfallen.
“While I can see the advantages of brewing coffee with the help of technology, I suppose the more traditional methods can never be overshadowed when quality is on the table.”
And Ajax had no room to argue. Sumerean vendors brewed their coffee in metal jugs over hot sand, and while the slight tang of bitterness put him off, he also missed the thicker quality of the espresso.
“But I do have to say that Arouet’s pâtissier makes lovely desserts,” Zhongli added, his attention drawn back to the Conch Madeleine, lifting a forkful to his mouth.
Before Ajax could reply, a man behind Zhongli caught his eye. It was the flash of pale blond hair, cascading down a cloak of ocean blue, elegant tailorship lining the edges of his suit in deep gold. It was only, and only, when he turned around from Lucerne’s front desk, that he realized exactly who he had been staring at.
The tall man locked eyes with Ajax, and immediately the Harbinger felt inclined to get up from his seat and run for the hills. Fontaine had hills, and caves, and he knew he could go far. Pale eyes trailed over Ajax, before landing on Zhongli’s back, eyes widening slightly. Zhongli stiffened, all too aware of Ajax’s distraction, and catching the scent permeating the air. One he knew far too well.
“Tartaglia, what a pleasant surprise to see you back in Fontaine so soon.”
Zhongli looked behind him at the deep voice, surprise colouring his cheeks a startling shade of crimson. He shot Ajax a glance before they both rose to greet the stranger.
“Chief Justice Neuvilette,” Ajax moved around the table, and offered out a hand for the judge to shake. Neuvilette simply stared at his hand for a moment, before hesitantly reciprocating. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
Zhongli narrowed his eyes at the exchange, all too familiar with the scene playing out in front of him. And that scent. Sea salt and mint, something darker, and terribly recognizable.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Zhongli said stiffly, dipping his head in greeting, “again. It seems you still have not grasped the proprieties of mundane social etiquette, Neuvilette.”
Ajax didn’t miss the way Neuvilette seemed to do a double take when turning his focus to Zhongli. He did one himself. What did Zhongli mean by “again”?
“Oh…”
Zhongli revelled in the questions he saw swimming in those lavender eyes.
“I believe my eyes are not deceiving me,” Neuvilette finally said, “for we have met, haven’t we, Morax?”
Ajax looked between the two of them, his mouth slightly agape.
“I have to say, your alias is well-chosen,” Neuvilette continued, a soft, good-natured laugh in tow. “It seems we may have more in common than we initially thought, Tartaglia. We seem to travel in the same circles, despite our occupations, of course.”
Zhongli’s hackles rose at the thought of anyone thinking they knew more about Ajax than he did. A low growl threatened to escape him, but a tentative hand on his shoulder stopped him. Ajax’s hold tightened as he moved to stand next to him. Zhongli cleared his throat and cast his eyes down to the ground.
What on earth was he doing?
“That we do,” Ajax replied politely, wearing a smile Zhongli knew was well trained into him from his days spent helping customers with paperwork at Northland Bank. “I do hope you find the rest of your evening pleasant.”
“Yes,” Zhongli interjected. “And I am quite glad it is not raining. The weather has improved greatly since my last visit.”
Neuvilette’s eyes darkened at that, but he said nothing of it, and simply nodded. With his hands clasped behind his back, he offered Zhongli a shallow bow, that same, gentle smile on his face. Ajax felt wary of it, while Zhongli’s baser instincts seemed to recognize this as a challenge. But a friendly one. It made his head feel light. That dark scent clung to him, and made his breath quicken.
“Enjoy your evening, gentlemen. May we meet again before you leave. It would be a pity if we didn’t meet for dinner. There is much for us to talk about after so much time spent apart.”
The two of them only sat down again once Neuvilette had turned the corner, heading to one of the Marcotte Station’s stop. The questions flowing between them, unanswered, seem to come out all at once.
“How do you-“
“Ajax, I’ve-“
Ajax laughed nervously and lifted a hand to run it through his hair. Zhongli knew he only did this when he was worried.
Zhongli decided to ask first.
“Ajax, how do you know the Chief Justice of Fontaine, exactly?”
Ajax sighed, looking at Zhongli with tired eyes.
“The last time I was in Fontaine, Il Dottore was occupied with Meka technology,” he started, smiling weakly when Zhongli reached over to hold his hand, his thumb tracing soothing patterns into his skin.
“And Clockwork Meka piqued his interest to such a high degree that he thought it fine to tamper with the official Fontainian Garde, which you can imagine was one of the reasons why I had to stand trial.”
“But thankfully I was let off easy, and in turn, was acquainted with the Chief Justice himself. There is nothing more to it, I can stand by that.”
Zhongli squeezed his hand reassuringly, his heart melting at the sight of those blue eyes filled with concern. He knew Ajax would fight for him in a heartbeat if he had to.
“I’ve known Neuvilette for many years,” Zhongli started, tentative and hushed. “But only in passing. Do you know what he is, Ajax?”
Ajax looked at Zhongli, expression morphing into confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Neuvilette is a dragon, Childe. A water dragon, at that.”
Zhongli had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at the look of mortification that fell over Ajax’s face.
“Is that…” Ajax closed his eyes and shook his head, as if this were a dream he could snap out of. “Zhongli, is that why you acted so out of line like that? Because he’s a dragon? Because you are territorial?”
The god had the audacity to look embarrassed.
“That may have been the case.”
Ajax then decided the bill was in order.
~
“Just like that.”
Zhongli bit deeply into the scar on Ajax’s nape, tongue laving gently over it after. His hands roamed over Ajax’s body, pressing deeply into tender muscles, the warm, soapy water rippling over them. Agile fingers traced over healed scars lovingly, and lips chased after freckles adorning the pale expanse of back akin to cinnamon on cream.
He could never get enough. Feel enough.
He inhaled deeply into Ajax’s neck, relishing in the snap of ice and pine that always lingered there. And his mind seemed transfixed on the notion that this man was his. A ceaseless mantra of mine, mine, mine. A low purr escaped him, and Ajax gasped, feeling hands tightening their grip around his waist.
“I’ve been lax with my training recently, haven’t I?” Ajax said breathily, head falling back to rest on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I hear there are many opponents to spar in the High Court. Champion Duellists, too.”
Zhongli kissed the furrow in his brow tenderly, a sound of protest leaving his lips.
“You are perfect,” he said reverently, lips skimming over Ajax’s cheekbone. Ajax hissed at the ticklish contact, skin still burning slightly from the sun. The hot water did not help much either.
To make his point clear, his fingers dug deeper into the softened flesh of his hips, thumbs moving in slow circles over his hipbones. Ajax moaned low in his throat, eyes fluttering shut at the gradually building heat in his gut, sitting heavy in his lower back. He arched into the touch, craving more, wanting more.
”We should finish up,” Zhongli whispered, voice a velvet timbre.  “The heat won’t do your skin any good for too long, I’m afraid.”
A low chuckle, the water splashing as they got out. Zhongli knew exactly how to take care of him, and Ajax was still left speechless at how easily he read him. Again, the constant give and take, push, and pull, of their relationship left a thrill rushing through him. Or was that just how love was?
“Zhongli, don’t tell me you brought Mist Flower essence with you?” Ajax raised an eyebrow, sat on the edge of the bed as Zhongli rummaged through his suitcase.
He stopped for a moment, looking back at Ajax, a knowing glance thrown his way. Ajax’s eyes moved over his form, stopping at the dip of his collarbone, exposed where the silk robe had come loose.
“Ajax, you burn quicker than oil meeting a flame. Did you really think I wouldn’t come prepared?”
“Point taken,” Ajax huffed, tearing his gaze away. He undid his robe and lay on his stomach, letting it pool over his lower half. He winced at the tight pull of skin. He’d burnt badly. He felt the dip in the bed when Zhongli kneeled over him, the pop of a vial being opened, loud in the comfortable quiet.
A small whine when cold ointment met his skin, the strong smell of mint hanging over them.
He couldn’t deny that Zhongli’s hands felt wonderful on his skin. Featherlight touches, gentle and careful not to hurt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His breathing evened out as Zhongli continued his work.
A single finger traced from his tailbone up to his nape, agonizingly slow, while the other gave his waist a testing squeeze.
“That feels good,” Ajax breathed, voice muffled by the sheets.
Zhongli didn’t miss the way Ajax’s hips shifted against the bed, and the flex of muscles, shining under the dim lighting. His fingers trailed down to his tailbone, slipping to his hips and underneath, grazing his abdomen.
“Such, ah-,” Ajax raised his hips, a soft moan escaping him, “such a tease.”
His face burnt bright, from the sun or arousal, he didn’t care. Zhongli’s chest pressed against his back, his cock half hard against the back of his thighs, his nose pressed into his neck.
“Because you’re mine, Ajax,” Zhongli said against his neck, voice laced with the edges of a growl. Oh, he’d never acted up like this.
“Hah, then-“ Ajax keened and writhed under him, trying to turn over to face him. A solid grip held him in place, pinning his hips into the bed. “Then take me.”
The scrape of elongated fingernails up his side made him release another pathetic wine. He wanted to see him, wanted to admire how well he’d made his lover lose his carefully held composure. From the corner of his tearing eyes, he noticed small flecks of gold adorning blackened arms like stars. Oh, how stunning he was.
“Like this,” Zhongli panted, breath fanning Ajax’s jaw, wet kisses trailing down to his collarbone, a fanged bite making him gasp at the sting. “You’re mine, Ajax. Mine to claim. Mine to breed.”
The old god’s eyes were wild, and molten gold when he gripped Ajax’s chin to press their lips together, tongue viciously prying his lips apart, to taste, to swallow those beautiful, high moans. Every caress was like fire, crawling up Ajax’s arched spine in white heat. If he were to die, he would choose this man to devour him.
“Zhongli,” Ajax’s voice came out shaky, between their lips, brushing together hurriedly as their robes were pushed off, water from a duck’s feathers. And how lovely Zhongli had always looked in silk. Regal, yet soft. “Please.”
Zhongli relished in the flush that spread over Ajax’s chest, as he ordered, “Prepare yourself for me.”
A soft gasp of shock followed Ajax as he moved to the head of the bed, resting his back against the cushioned headboard. Zhongli’s eyes watched him carefully, slitted pupils dilating at the sight of hydro slicking scarred fingers, before reaching down, index pressing insistently in. Impatient. And it had lust pooling heavy in his gut.
He couldn’t rip his gaze away from Ajax’s, deep blue eyes darker still, arousal and desire and love rising to the surface. He trailed a hand down his own stomach, an arm braced behind him, and legs spread, hissing at the contact with his hard length.
“I love seeing you like this,” Zhongli admitted breathily, “How you crave my touch. How it drives you mad.”
Ajax’s head lolls back to rest against the cushions, eyes closed, and mouth parted in a silent moan as he presses two fingers into himself. Zhongli’s eyes fall to his cock, a beautiful and sinful sight, laying against a white thigh littered with bruises from too tight a grip, the tip a deep shade of red. Erotic. Pearlescent spend leaking, begging to be tasted.
“You are divine,” Zhongli groans, deep and guttural and his own hand squeezes around his length. Heat stokes headily in his groin, and he stops, chest heaving with breaths meant to soothe the lust rather than to catch breath.
“Zhongli, please. I need you inside me,” Ajax’s free hand comes up to circle two fingers around the base of the head of his cock. Zhongli sees white for a second at the sight, his pride soaring high, a voice in the back of his mind declaring: he could come just like this, without even needing to touch him.
An animalistic sound, low and predatory, fills the room as Zhongli moves over Ajax. Obedient and knowing, Ajax removes his fingers from himself and holds them out to his lover. A long, rough tongue escapes kiss swollen lips to lick them clean, and he whines – a high, pathetic thing – as Zhongli moves down his body, eyes clouded over in a haze, the taste of Ajax, Ajax, Ajax on his tongue.
“Others may want you,” Zhongli murmured lowly against Ajax’s stomach, kisses pressed into freckles and scars reverently, “but I am the only one who may claim you. I have claimed you.”
“You have,” Ajax breathed out, lust-heavy gaze following Zhongli as he bit into his thighs, small pinpricks of blood licked up by a draconic tongue, just shy of being too rough to please.
A pleased purr emanated from the god’s chest, his arms and the tips of his hair shimmering with flecks of amber. Ajax held his breath, watching as Zhongli opened his mouth and licked tentatively at the head of his cock, finally tasting his prize.
“Oh,” Ajax’s hands found purchase in Zhongli’s hair, coaxing him to lick up his length, and swallow him down. A few silent moments as the vibrations of Zhongli’s own moans sent sparks of pleasure skittering up Ajax’s spine, making his stomach flex in anticipation.
And then he started moving, tongue dragging on the underside of his length, relishing the shudder he felt run through Ajax’s body, hands tightening in his hair and stinging deliciously.
Anyone who dared to challenge a god for his own mate was a fool. And Morax intended to imbed his scent on his mate as thoroughly as he could before the evening was over. And how intoxicating his scent was, the taste of Ajax’s spend heady and all-consuming on his tongue.
~
The following morning, Zhongli was insatiable.
“You are stunning like this, Ajax.”
Ajax’s laugh against his lips was swallowed into a deep kiss, followed by smaller kisses across the freckles scattered on his cheeks.
“Can we have breakfast, please? One moment of your time.” Ajax looked a mess. A beautiful, debauched and thoroughly fucked mess, at that. “While room service was a joy, I think the maids may never come in unannounced again.”
Zhongli had been awake before Ajax, and had taken him in his sleep, rousing his lover from dreams to come inside him again. At the memory, Zhongli gently pressed a kiss to Ajax’s shoulder, trailing his teeth cheekily over the bruise there for good measure.
“I thought it was good manners to knock, but it seems Fontaine is different.”
Ajax scoffed at that, sitting up a little to reach over for the tray that had been placed on the nightstand. “Quite.”
Amongst freshly sliced bread, jam, and black coffee, they spotted a blue envelope secured under the stacked side plates.
“A letter?” Ajax frowned and snatched it up, turning it over curiously. Embossed with the High Court’s crest, and addressed to them, there was no mistaking who it was for.
I hope this letter finds you both well.
While our meeting was brief last evening, I trust you will accept my invitation to dine near Palais Mermonia. My apartment is just across from the building. You would be blind to miss it! Fontaine offers a rich history of the arts and law alike, which I know you will enjoy learning more of. I will be off duty by six, and eagerly await this opportunity to catch up with old friends.
Sincerely,
Iudex of Fontaine,
Chief Justice
Neuvilette
“He’s really inviting us to dinner, isn’t he,” Ajax stated, more out of disbelief, than actually asking a question. “Zhongli?”
“It’s hard to say…” Zhongli started, eyes still scanning over the words. Elegant penmanship, he found himself thinking.
“Do you want to see him?”
When Zhongli looked up at Ajax, instead of seeing jealousy like he’d feared, he saw sincerity and a tender softness. Vulnerability.
“I…” he sighed frustratedly. “Ajax, I was not completely honest with you last night. Neuvilette… while he is…” he fixed his eyes on Ajax’s fingers, absently tracing circles over the inside of his arm. “He was a close friend, quite some time ago, but…”
Ajax had never witnessed Zhongli at a loss for words many times in their relationship, but the tenderness never left his touch or his gaze when he asked: “Were you lovers?”
“Oh!” Zhongli laughed at that. “No, no, not quite. I never had an interest of that nature towards him, but…I do think he did.”
“Hm, I can’t blame him,” Ajax pressed a kiss to Zhongli’s temple, nose nuzzling affectionately into his hair. “Would you like him to have an interest in you?”
They knocked noses as Zhongli turned his face to kiss the corner of Ajax’s mouth, seeking the warmth and reassurance of his presence. “I don’t find it uncomfortable, if that is what you are implying.”
“My love, you know what I am asking.” Ajax kissed Zhongli gently, coaxing the answer out of him, teeth sinking into his plush lower lip.
Zhongli reached out a hand to grip the tray on Ajax’s lap, already knowing he’d knock over the hot pot of coffee onto them if they continued.
“Ajax, I am quite aware of what you are trying to get out of me, but….”
“But?” Ajax prompted, looking smug, noticing the blush rising high onto Zhongli’s cheekbones.
“Dragons have certain instincts…ones that aren’t quite usual anymore, since there aren’t many of us left” he admitted, a sigh of defeat following.
“You’ve always had the instinct to breed me-“
“This is different,” Zhongli cut in, holding up a hand to silence him. “While we are scarce, we still tend to want…” he trailed off and brought a hand up to his face, touching his reddened cheeks self-consciously.
Ajax left a kiss on Zhongli’s jaw, a silent encouragement.
“Zhongli, I love you. I will never judge you.” Another kiss on the shell of his ear.
He let out a shuddering breath. “While it’s in our nature to breed, it’s common for my kind to want the same in return as well. This desire can sometimes be fuelled by the presence of a compatible mate.”
Zhongli could see the cogs turning in Ajax’s mind already, making sense of everything he had just said.
“So…” Ajax leaned forwards to put the tray by the foot of the bed, the glass clinking as they settled. “You’re saying that while you adore doting after me, there’s something Neuvilette can offer that I can’t? Something you crave?”
Zhongli let out a choked gasp as Ajax climbed over him to straddle his hips, pushing their hips together, grinding down.
“Ah, I can see the appeal, honestly,” he said, bracing his hands on Zhongli’s chest, thumbs running over his nipples, hips moving sweetly to brush their lengths together teasingly.
“I don’t need it, Ajax,” Zhongli said, voice wavering with newfound arousal. Ajax looked beautiful above him, taking what he wanted when he wanted, using him however he pleased. “I have you, and I love you, and that’s all I’ll ever need.”
“But,” Ajax’s hips came to a stop and he arched forwards, all lithe and lean muscle, and practiced balance. “I can imagine it, Zhongli. You taking me, filling me with both of your cocks, and him – ah – filling you from behind, taking your pleasure, but knowing he can never be yours. Not in the way that we are each other’s.”
“Who would we be, to deny ourselves the delicacies Fontaine has to offer?”
-------> Fic Tags: @halfwizardprincess @randomness-fandomness12
@aristotels
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kokomyass · 4 months
Text
Gojo Satoru ☆ Camping trip
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Gojo x Fem!Reader
Genre: ☁️
Word Count:1427
Trigger warnings⚠️: none, other than swearing
Second person POV
"C'mon Y/N it is gonna be great bonding for us!" you cocked an eyebrow up at your tall and overly expressive boyfriend. "...and the students....BUT that doesn't matter! It's all in the name of love~"
You were fortunate enough to be in a relationship with THE Gojo Satoru even though you found yourself forgetting why you were in a relationship with him at times... such as now...
As part of his responsibility as a teacher, he was meant to take out the first and second years on a camping bonding trip, however to make up for the lost bonding time you and him had lost due to one thing or another he was suggesting you tag along.
"Gojo...I don't know, I feel like a lot could go wrong, plus we don't want to be acting all in love around the students."
Although you did believe it would certainly...be an experience... you weren't sure if Principal Yaga would agree to such a request. He would probably think you and Gojo were planning on doing unholy deeds in a tent.
"Y/N THAT DOES NOT MATTER." Gojo exclaimed, gripping your hands firmly.
"I have spoken to Principal Yaga, and he says it's fine. The students probably know we are together already because i don't know about you, but I think it's quite obvious, and-"
"FINE!! I'LL GO!!" You cave in and decide to go because no matter what, it seems like Gojo won't back down.
"Your amazing Y/N!! You won't regret it!" Gojo laughs as he picks you up and spins you before giving a tender, soft kiss on your lips.
"Okay...okay...let me go and get ready, alright Satoru?" you tell him whilst still grinning from his cuteness. He nods and hugs you before parting ways as he needs to go and get the students in check.
Time skip
You had finished packing everything that you would need and you were now stood in front of the students with Gojo whilst he briefed them on everything that was going to happen on the trip.
"Last but most definitely not least...your sensei, Y/N will be joining us!!" Gojo said as he wrapped a firm arm around your shoulders and you smiled at the students and the first years all cheered.
"I bet the only reason she is coming is because they wanna get down and dirty in a tent.." Maki mumbled as there was a chorus of 'Yeah's as they watched you and Gojo happily talking together.
"Well I love Y/N so I'm so glad she's coming!" Nobara adds and her and Itadori fangirl over you and Megumi silently agrees.
You all got in the minibus driven by Ijichi and of course you and Gojo sat at the front as you sighed in tiredness, laying your head on his shoulder.
"Feeling sleepy, princess?" Gojo wraps at arm around you moving you closer to him and pressing a soft kiss on your head.
You sigh once more after inhaling Gojo's comforting and warm scent that immediately made you feel relaxed and fatigued.
"Yeah...mind if I take a nap? Lemme know once we get there, okay?" you peck Gojo's cheek before getting all cosy in Gojo's arms.
Time Skip
You stir awake to shuffling as you had reached your destination.
"Morning sleeping beauty! Did you have a good nap?" Gojo said with his signature smile which was enough to make someone's day.
"I sure did...thanks for being such an amazing cushion haha" you both chuckle together as you start telling to students to get off the bus.
You had all gotten off the bus, and the first activity for the day was some sort of trail that Gojo had planned whilst you stayed back setting up camp.
"Alright kids!! Who is ready to witness the power of mother nature!" Gojo said with energy and enthusiasm (something that the students very much lacked)
You couldn't help but chuckle at your cute boyfriends efforts to make everyone happy.
You waved them all goodbye before setting up the camp with a bit of Ichiji's help before he went back.
You feel asleep whilst reading a book sat in your transportable chair that Gojo remembered to bring for you.
Sadly, awoken from your slumber by someone cupping your cheeks and breathing softly.
"Wake up honey we are back~" a creepy voice said as you felt kinda like you were on crack
"Wha...What's going on..?"
Once you fully opened your eyes you were greeted with a hilarious sight.
All the first year were covered in mud and dirt and you were pretty sure Megumi had a rat in his hair and Yujii had a leech on his arm.
Whilst the second years...had(everything the first years had) along with scratches and bee stings.
"Y/N tell your boyfriend that if he wanted to fucking kill us then he could've done so in a heartbeat. After all there is a bounty on his head. I don't even know why anyone would want this useless hunk of a man." Maki was fuming, which was very reasonable looking at the state she was in.
Gojo chuckled nervously, sweat dropping from his forehead as he brought his hands up in defense.
"Heyyy Maki!! Calm down!! Maybe you need some s'mores cause-"
"I don't need any mother fucking s'mores. What I need is for a white haired bitch to stop pissing me off."
At this point Panda and Inumaki were holding onto Maki for dear life.
You decided to chip in to maybe calm everyone down.
"Okay guys clearly you been through some tough shit...but good thing is your back here with me!"
"What about m-" Gojo chipped you before stopping as you shot him a death glare. "ˢᵒʳʳʸ."
"Anyway let me make you some food and s'mores and let us all relax"
Everyone calmed down after hearing your words and all the students went to wash up.
Time Skip
Everyone was now huddled around the campfire, feeling sleepy(aka asleep on one another) after the days activities.
"Hey Y/N, my love, I have something to show you." you cocked an eyebrow up wondering what your boyfriend could have in store
Gojo took off his blindfold and put it on you to cover your eyes up from his surprise.
"You didn't even give me time to see your lovely eyes, Satoru.." you joked as he let out a soft chuckle
"Soon you will be able to stare at this beautiful face all you want." you giggled as he held your hand firmly.
He guided you quite far into the forest making you feel a bit worried. He seemed to notice this and decided to wrap his arm around you instead.
"Don't worry Y/N your with me you've got nothing to worry about."
You had finally reached your destination and Gojo carefully took of your blindfold revealing the most romantic, beautiful and euphoric scene right in front of you.
Gojo had set up a picnic with fireflies lighting up the area, a soft scent of cinnamon and spice, delicious delicacies that you always enjoyed...it was the perfect date.
You were dumbfounded as Gojo guided you to sit down on the picnic blanket.
"So..do you like it?"
"Like it? Oh Satoru, I love it!! I love you so so much, I could never ask for a better boyfriend"
You leaped into Gojo's arms and kiss him deeply with nothing but genuine love.
He engulfed you in his arms for a while smiling like he had everything he could ever ask for (which he did)
"I love you more, my love...it was worth leaving the students behind earlier..."
"Say what?!" you shouted realising what may have caused the atrocities to happen to the kids.
"Nothing at all!! Now lets enjoy this before we have to go back to being responsible adults."
"Umm sweetheart, your not usually responsi-"
He shut you up by shoving a cake in your mouth as you both laughed together and enjoyed each others company.
A lil add on for yall:
The next day Gojo got reprimanded my Yaga after the students submitted their reports of what happened and he received a particularly hateful on towards Gojo from an anonymous student.
Gojo still thought it was worth it for the night of his life with you though...
A/N
I hope you guys enjoyed that and love you lots 💜🔮
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seat-safety-switch · 2 years
Text
Have you heard my favourite band’s new album? Neither have I, because the only time I get to listen to it is when I’m in the car. And to say that my car’s sonic environment is sub-optimal is a bit of an understatement. It’s more like being trapped inside a mineshaft while the mineshaft is being dug.
Now, only a small amount of this is due to the loud exhaust. I’m not one of those folks to put melon-sized mufflers on the back of my car’s pipes. Mostly because there’s not enough exhaust pipe left to attach the muffler to, and so it would involve a bunch of welding and effort that would paradoxically end up with the thing being quieter.
And in fact, the exhaust being loud is a good thing, because it helps drown out the sound of the suspension components groaning and screeching with every jounce, no matter how small. You might think that it would be a mere matter of going to the parts store and picking up new bushings, and it is, but putting in new bushings requires a bunch of effort. It also involves removing the suspension components in question. And believe you me, if I actually start fighting the rust on the underside of this car, there’s enough of it that I’m worried it’s going to unionize and quit in protest. Then I’ll basically have half the steering wheel and nothing else up on jackstands in my garage.
Of course, the horrible noises don’t end there. Being an old domestic car, every plastic piece in the interior squeaks and pops as the car warms up, cools down, is sat in, or thinks about being used. Sometimes, when I’m going down the highway fast enough, something like the heater vents will get tired of my shit and just shoot out of the dashboard. Usually, they end in the back seat, and that’s the end of the conversation. Other times, they fall in my lap, and then out the gaping hole in the floor that used to hold the exhaust on. Then, I have to go to Pick-N-Pull, and then my wallet starts to emit a whining sound.
So here’s what you do, when you sit in my cars. Put in these earplugs. Then put these ear protectors over top. Now get out of the car and take the bus. Meet me where we’re going, which hopefully is an insanely loud concert venue. My ears could use the break.
609 notes · View notes
vctrvn-ls · 9 months
Text
An Effort at Romance ☕️ | Kenny | ☕️
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╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗
warnings: language
wordcount: 1.3k
summary: a little short in which you tried to do a small romantic gesture that ended up flopping because of the weather
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝
It was a cold summer day in London.
About 15 degrees (celsius), but that's besides the point. The point was that you were standing at the bus stop, drenched and shivering.
There really was no point in standing under the bus shelter because you were already dripping wet, soaking, you swore you heard your socks squealching every time you moved your toes.
Anyway, why were you standing wet next to a bus stop and not dry inside an Uber?
Romance.
If you could call it that, more like failed romance, or an effort at it.
What you wanted to do was meet up with your boyfriend after work. His boxing gym was as he said "A ten minute walk down the street," which it wasn't. You ended up getting lost and as you picked up your phone it died right in your hands (tragic).
To make things worse it had started raining and now the only way to get home was by public transport.
Your mood was ruined. You felt angry, embarrassed and like a total loser, and you knew Kenny would laugh in your face for hours after finding out the whole story, he knew you hated the soppy lovebird things that would usually bring smiles to other couples when the gestures were done.
You were just a little…different (is what he guessed)
Fast forward two hours, it was 11:40pm and you were finally in the front yard of your house, walking down the little paved path that had streams of water running on it.
It was still raining, only now the wind was blowing like crazy. You saw that the lights in the living room as you struggled to open the door with slippery hands.
As the lock clicked you sighed and opened the door, stumbling in and closing it behind you.
You were so busy looking down at the puddle that you were creating under your feet, that you hadn't even noticed Kenny's presence.
You put your bag down and looked up "Oh my god!" You jolted, caught off guard by his appearance.
"Where the hell were you?" He walked over, pulling you into a rather aggressive hug. You furrowed your eyebrows, slowly putting your wet hands onto his back while listening to him talk behind you.
"I called you like a hundred times! I called your friends from work, even your boss!" He pulled away, revealing his worried expression, eyebrows knitted as he fixed his glasses like the adorable nerd he was.
"I-I-uuuhhh." You didn't know what to say. You were stunned by Kenny's reaction, you definitely weren't expecting him to worry out of all things.
"You're all wet now." You pointed to his grey sweater that now had and imprint of you.
"I don't care, where were you? I swear to god I almost lost my mind a-and the scary thing was that I didn't even know where to go to find you."
"Long story." You simply stated, giving him a crooked smile. Kenny rolled his eyes before hugging you again "Idiot." He mumbled.
You smiled to yourself, rubbing his back.
"You better tell me everything after you shower." He let you go.
"Yeah, yeah ok. You could…just join me." You grin suggestively, taking his hand.
"No." He said unenthusiastically.
"Wow that must've really fucked up your mind." You groaned, annoyed, before kicking off your shoes.
"I'm gonna make you something warm to drink before you get sick." He helped you take off your coat and blazer.
"Fine, fine. Throw these in the washing too."
He watched you slip out of your skirt and blouse right in front of him.
"Change your mind about the shower yet?" You smirked, seeing his eyes glued onto you.
"No." He took a sharp breathe in, fighting himself as he blinked and tore his eyes off of you, heading for the laundry.
"Hey Kenny I hope you don't mind me stealing your clothes," you say as you jog down the stairs and pull on his black Champion sweatshirt.
"No." You hear him call out from the kitchen as you hopped onto the couch "Wait which one?"
"Uuhhhh black crewneck." You respond, reaching for the remote.
"Yeah whatever." He walks in, and hands you a cup of tea.
"Ah," you take it "Thank you. How very British of you." You take a sip, noticing that he had changed too. "Did you load the laundry?" You ask.
"Yeah." He replies, not so confidently.
"Are you sure?"
He nods "So," he shuffles in his position, facing you "Tell me where you've been while I was here shitting bricks." He takes off his glasses and puts them down.
You chuckle "First of all that was very old-man of you."
"What?"
"Taking your glasses off like that, and second of all promise not to laugh and call me an idiot?"
"Uuhhh, yes?"
"Alright, so-"
Five minutes later the house rung with laughter as Kenny rolled around the couch holding onto his sides and howling.
You stared at him with an unamused expression painted on your face, remembering that he promised not to laugh.
Well at least he didn't call you an idiot.
"YOU IDIOT!" He yelped taking a breathe in.
Well there went the other promise.
"Oh fuck you." You crossed your eyebrows and turned to face the tv, folding your arms.
He wheezed beside you, holding on for dear life "I-I'm sorry," he covered his face "No it was really sweet of you." He moved over to you and engulfed you in a hug, tipping you over to the side.
"KEN!" You barked as you felt him falling backwards, with his arms still around you. You fell right onto him while he kept on laughing.
You were scared you had split his ribcage with your shoulder, but clearly he was fine.
"You idiot." He repeated, giving you a tight squeeze "But that was very sweet of you." He kissed your cheek.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You shook your head.
"What? You mad at me now?"
You didn't reply.
"Hm?" He gave you another smooch "Are you?" And another one "Babyyy," and one more.
You giggled as he sprinkled your face with kisses while you tried to wriggle out of his embrace.
"Ok, ok, ok," you panted "Stop, stop." He finally let you go and you sat up, fixing your damp hair and rolling your eyes as you noticed him staring at you.
"I love youuu," he sang.
You nodded "Uhuh."
"You have to say it back. The rules of this household." He stated making you chuckle.
"Oh well if it's the rules," you grin "I love you too."
He smiled, nodding in acceptance.
"So what do you wanna watch?" You turned to Kenny as the Netflix logo popped up on the screen.
“I don’t know. I’m kinda tired,” he shrugs.
“Tsk,” you tut, turning off the tv.
“Wha-I mean you can still watch something.”
“Nah but like,” you look up in a shy manner “I wanna spend time with you.”
Kenny genuinely smiles, tilting his head and feeling warm and fuzzy on the inside. Even if your efforts at a romantic gesture failed, he still felt wanted around you, despite you pretending to be all prickly.
“Cmere,” he spreads his arms out and you suppress a smile as you shuffle over to him, laying your back on his chest as he curls his arms around you from behind.
“How’d training go?” You look up.
He nods “Good.”
“Did you eat anything?”
He shook his head “You know I don’t eat after.”
You frown “So confusing, first you eat a lot then you don’t eat at all. You’re getting thinner by the day.”
He chuckled “You sound like mum.”
“Yeah cause she’s right!”
“Ok, ok. It’s complicated. There’s a period where I need to eat a lot and a period where I should be careful of what I’m eating. Doesn’t mean I don’t .”He says as a matter-of-fact-ly.
“Can’t wait for that to be over.”
“What? Whyyy? I look great.” He laughs.
“We can’t eat out, you’re always tired and sometimes your mood is so shit I’m scared to even talk to you.” You make a very valid point.
“Uuuhhh,” Kenny had no arguments against your statement.
“Exactly. Besides you know you always look good.”
He smiles, but sighs, laying his cheek on the top of your head.
“You gonna sleep right here?” You joke.
“Yeah maybe.” He grins.
“Oh, Ken.” You shake your head.
125 notes · View notes
f1-stuff · 17 days
Note
Mallorca AU please :)
Hii ❤️ (previous shared bit) and an 880-word snippet for you :
They run back to Carlos’ bike, yelling and laughing as the rain quickly goes from a light misting to what Charles would describe as a downpour.
“We can’t ride your bike in this!” he insists, even as Carlos swings his leg to straddle the seat.
“What do you mean? It’s just a bit of rain,” Carlos shouts. His joke is punctuated by another rumble of thunder. “Get on - hurry.”
Charles doesn’t waste time arguing, although he does laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation as he once again climbs onto the handlebars. He fumbles around, sliding a bit on the wet metal, but Carlos helps to balance him like last time, a hand at his waist that somehow exactly aligns with Charles feeling a bit short of breath. And then, they’re off, Charles squinting against the rain, as Carlos maneuvers them onto the road.
He seems to know where he’s going, despite Charles’ rather pathetic description of where their villa is. So Charles just holds on and blinks water from his eyes.
“I am like your windshield,” he yells, over his shoulder. “Blocking all the rain.” Carlos laughs at his back.
“Thank you, very helpful,” Carlos teases.
It takes them, probably, five minutes or so to get to the nearest bus stop. Charles hadn’t known that was where they were headed, but luckily Carlos isn’t crazy enough to think they could bike all the way to the house in this rain. He thinks Carlos might leave him now, but when he sticks to Charles’ side as they wait for the bus, huddled underneath the small covered bench, Charles feels inexplicably warm. 
Even more so when, as the bus pulls up, Carlos climbs on with him, managing to fit his bike inside with minimal effort, which speaks to him having potentially done it before, as well as talk to the driver about the stop they need and how much it’ll cost. He fishes the amount they need from his pocket, ignoring Charles’ attempt to protest.
“You can cover me next time,” he says. And it makes Charles feel even warmer - the promise of ‘next time’.
They sit side-by-side for the ride, which must be about a half hour or so. But Charles can’t be sure because his eyes quickly start to get heavy, lulled by the hum of the bus’ engine and the rain pattering against the window. He doesn’t decide to close his eyes, but he wakes up some time later to Carlos’ hand gently shaking his knee.
“Almost there,” he says softly, very close to Charles’ ear. Which is also when Charles realizes his head is resting on Carlos’ shoulder. 
He sits up straight, his cheeks hot. Carlos just grins.
“Sorry,” he says, on reflex.
“It’s alright,” Carlos replies, and he sounds like he means it. 
Still, Charles stares pointedly out the window as he waits for his face to stop flushing, until the bus is approaching their stop and Carlos stands to make his way with his bike to the door. They step out into the rain once again, waiting for the bus to pull away before Carlos gestures for him to climb back on the bike.
“It’ll be faster than walking,” he says, over the sound of the rain.
Carlos pedals as fast as he can, Charles giving him directions once he recognizes where they are. But they’re still soaked by the time they pull up to the gates of the villa. Charles crows in victory as he jumps off the bike, Carlos laughing as he watches him punch in the code.
They hardly wait for the gates to open a sliver before they’re pushing through and running toward the covered porch. Carlos lets the bike fall to the ground as they take cover, both of them catching their breath. Charles looks in amazement at the rain that’s bucketing down.
“Do you want to come in?” he asks, thinking it’s hardly smart for Carlos to ride home in this weather.
“I can’t. It’s Sunday and my family has this tradition,” Carlos says, waving his hand in the air. “Sunday night dinners.” Charles nods, something like disappointment settling in his stomach.
“Do you want a ride?” he asks. “Come on, you can’t go on your bike.” Carlos just shakes his head.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take the bus back.”
Charles chews on his lip, not wanting to accept Carlos’ solution but not sure he’ll be able to convince him otherwise. Ultimately, he just doesn’t want to say goodbye yet. But he thinks it would sound pretty pathetic (and strange) if he insisted on driving Carlos for that reason.
Carlos laughs, then, surprising Charles out of his thoughts. “You are so wet,” he says, reaching up to smooth Charles’ dripping hair off of his forehead.
Carlos’ breath tickles his face, and he realizes just how close they’re standing. He’s close enough to see the freckles on Carlos’ nose and cheeks, the water beading along his skin, the parting of his lips. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him and the heaviness of his gaze as their eyes meet. Carlos’ hand lingers in his hair by his ear. Charles swallows, his tongue feeling suddenly heavy and thick in his mouth.
He doesn’t know why it still surprises him when Carlos kisses him.
And that's all you get... ��
WIP Wednesday
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unmotivatedwrit3r · 1 year
Text
Autumn Winds and Boyfriend Hoodies
jason todd x reader
(A/N): So my last few weeks have been something like open and close a show, then get COVID, then have 6 essays due this week, but after his week, I'll hopefully have breathing room.
This is a birthday gift for the wonderful Citi @citrinesparkles who has been so patient about my ramblings and is just a lovely human. Citi, I hope you love it :)
warnings: none that i can think of?
wc: ~1200
~~~~
It’s been a long day. There’s no special reason, nothing you did or didn’t do. You had the right supplies for your before-work caffeine and you left on time. You even found a ten at the bottom of your bag that you’d completely forgotten about when you went to buy lunch. But you feel like you didn’t sleep as well last night, and someone opened a window somewhere before you’d even arrived, giving the late autumn winds full permission to whip through the building, leaving an unshakeable chill in their wake. 
It’s an even chillier two block walk from the bus station to your building, and you welcome the heat as you step inside. Your plans tonight: shower, heat up leftovers for dinner, and watch a movie or two on Netflix before you go to sleep. Even better if your boyfriend can in fact make it over by 8. You got a text earlier in the day that he’d gotten safely home from his two-day mission with minimal injuries, so you’re optimistic. You open your text chain with Jason as you walk up the stairs to the third floor to let him know you’re home and he can come by whenever. 
And then you get to your apartment, walk inside, and it’s freezing. You toe off your shoes and head towards the heater. There’s no warm air blowing — which is expected as it feels like it’s 60 degrees in your apartment — and the light that glows to indicate it’s on isn’t blinking a dull green as usual. Five minutes of fiddling later, you give up and email the maintenance for your building. The automated response you get says that they close at 6 in the evenings except for emergencies—which you don’t qualify as—and they won’t get back to you until tomorrow morning.
“Great, just what I needed,” you mutter to yourself, stripping off your coat to hang it up and dropping your bag by the door. You take off your shoes and put your keys on the hook by the door. You’re already getting chilly. “A hot shower sounds really good right now.”
There’s a knock on the door 40 minutes later, after you’ve showered and heated up dinner and gotten your food and drink to the coffee table. The TV is on, showing you the Netflix home screen. You don’t want to put your blanket on your lap while you’re eating, so you resign yourself to just being chilly for the next half-hour or so. The knock comes as you’re scrolling through your list, searching for something low-effort to watch, and you let out a heavy breath before untangling yourself from your squished position on the couch in order to put your bowl and the remote on the coffee table and open the door.
Jason’s on the other side when you open it, in sweatpants and a hoodie under a leather jacket. Just seeing him makes your evening so much better. He looks exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes and in soft clothes, and there’s a spark of warmth in your chest because he trusts you enough to see that part of him and you feel so incredibly lucky. 
“Hi,” you say, and you can feel a dopey smile crossing your face. You see Jason’s eyes scan you quickly, traveling over your snowflake pj pants and fuzzy socks and one of his t-shirts, and he smiles back at you. 
“Hi babe. Did you want to stand in the doorway all night or?” You step back, opening the door wider as he comes inside. 
“You know Jay, if you didn’t want to eat the remaining leftovers in my fridge, you could have just said so.” Jason laughs, a bright thing that makes you smile too. 
“Missed you too.” 
He takes the door to close it behind him and then leans towards you. You catch his face with your hands as his arms circle around your waist and back. It’s a soft kiss, and his lips are warm, staving off the chill that you’ve felt since you walked in, and you take a second to press your forehead against his temple, just relishing in the fact that he’s here, safe, with you. 
He’s a little taller than he usually is, and you look down when you step back; he’s wearing work boots. He only wears those when he needs to fit something bulky in his shoes because he doesn’t have to tie them. 
“Minimal injuries, huh?” you ask. Jason follows your eyes down to his shoes and shrugs. 
“I’m walking, so I’d say it’s minimal.” You turn to the kitchen. 
“Sit down and put whichever ankle it is on the coffee table. I’ll get your food. And an ice pack.” 
When you look back at him, Jason is grinning. He hangs his leather jacket on his hook on your coat hanger. 
-
By the time you get back to the coffee table, any warmth you’d been feeling is gone, and the ice pack you have in your hands isn’t helping. You hand Jason the ice pack first and he positions it properly over his ankle before you hand him his food. He takes it with a murmured ‘thanks,’ and you hum in response, picking your food back up and sitting back in your spot on the couch. Your food isn’t warm anymore, more lukewarm, but you’re not willing to uncurl again just to heat it up. 
Jason’s settled on a movie, you realize; there’s something paused on the screen. You didn’t even hear him start it. 
“Babe, you okay?” When you look at him, Jason’s face is creased with concern. You feel guilty for making him worry when he just got back and you’re frustrated at yourself that it’s something so mundane. 
“I’m cold.” The words sound sort of whiny and pathetic to you when they come out of your mouth, but Jason’s face lights up. 
“Hold this,” he says, passing you his bowl. You take it, confused, as he wriggles around, pulling off his hoodie. It’s dark red and huge and has a tiny logo in the corner of what you think is a Wayne Enterprises shelter in the narrows. Jason takes his bowl back and hands you the hoodie, then motions for you to give him your bowl. You hesitate, fingers twitching towards the sweatshirt.
“I run warm, so don’t feel like you’re putting me out. It’s all yours, babe.” 
It takes you a second to find the hood and the sleeves, but it’s warm and smells like Jason’s favorite cologne and a little bit of cinnamon.  
You turn to Jason, fixing the hair that had gotten messed up as you yanked the hoodie over your head. He’s staring at you, a smile on his face you’d never seen before. 
“What?” you ask, taking your bowl back from him. “Are you realizing I look better in it than you do?” 
A snort of laughter from him startles you into your own laughter. For the first time all day, you don’t feel a chill.  
-
Later on, when your food is finished and there’s a large bowl of popcorn on Jason’s lap that you’ve both been taking from throughout the movie, you’re sure you’re keeping the hoodie. And you’re right; Jason doesn’t get it back until he moves in with you, years later. By then, the logo’s peeling, but it’s softer than it used to be. 
The smiles Jason makes when he looks at you though? Those are the same. 
271 notes · View notes
Text
[CN] Victor’s Carbon Pen and Glass Bead Event (Day 2)
⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for content yet to be released on the global server! ⌚
✦ thursday || friday || saturday || sunday || monday || tuesday || wednesday
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【High School Affiliated to Loveland University Second Year (Section 1) Semester Schedule - Friday】
✄┈┈┈┈┈┈
[PHYSICS]:
If asked to choose the class with the most exemplary learning environment, Victor would undoubtedly go for the physics class without hesitation.
“Next, I’m going to cover one of the most important topics for this semester, which will be included in the monthly exam. Even a fool should be able to grasp the essence of what I’m saying, don’t you think?”
With a cold laugh, the man places the nearly used-up chalk into the chalk box.
“Whoever fails to solve it when the time comes, you all know the consequences already.”
[MATH]: 
“Answer: D. Analysis: Omission.”
This is the most openly righteous lie in the world.
[ENGLISH]:
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Take care of your eyes and make sure to rest properly.
I hope the next class, Brother Xiao Ying can be more serious while teaching. In a rare moment, Victor prays to himself.
[BIOLOGY]:
“Hey, Sir Vic, pinch me quickly. I finally managed to change to the seat at the back with so much effort, but I might fall asleep listening to Brother Wen’s never-ending ‘The Great Compression Mantra’.”
“If I do doze off, I’ll get late to grab the lunch later.”
[SPORTS]:
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Right after the warm-up, the students are notified to go back to the classroom. It seems like something serious is about to be announced.
The result is that the physics teacher wins the class registration battle.
It is, indeed, quite a serious matter.
[CHINESE]:
“How come I don’t see any of you dozing off during the physics class, huh?”
The head teacher’s eyes curve into a smile, but it silences the entire classroom in fear,
“I’m showing my consideration and kindness to you guys, but I see no appreciation in return…”
“Since you all love to sleep so much, just keep your eyes closed.”
Victor quietly opens the math paper tucked beneath his Chinese textbook and starts writing to save time.
[CHINESE]:
How should I analyze your desires and wishes?
Using the first-person narrative will create a warm and friendly tone, while incorporating the second-person will enhance the emotional expression of the article, and using the third-person will portray objectivity…
“The author portrayed the joyous memories of his childhood with vivid imagery, showcasing his profound sense of homesickness…” - Victor’s expression remains stoic as he writes.
[CLASS MEETING]:
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Today’s class meeting is rare in that it hasn’t devolved into a session of appreciation for classical poetry, and this causes everyone’s enthusiasm after school to soar.
When Victor completes his assigned duties and returns to the dormitory to retrieve his luggage, he finds that everyone has already left the dorm.
That’s alright; it came as a blessing in disguise to help avoid the crowded bus – Victor thinks this to himself as he walks to the bus station and waits patiently.
“Meow——”
Suddenly, a very soft cat purring reaches his ears, prompting him to turn around subconsciously. The little kitten’s paw gently taps on the glass window, as if extending him an invitation.
He walks over and greets the little kitten from the other side of the glass. He smiles happily, and as he turns back, the bus behind him has already left. 
──────
✧ next stop: Saturday
─────────
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augustvandyne · 9 months
Note
hi! could you write van x reader fic where reader braids van’s hair? & while they are vans getting goosebumps cause of her feelings for reader. with a confession & kiss? 🤍
hey! thank you for sending this in. this is my first time writing for van, so bare with me.
this is pre-crash
braids
You and Van have been playing together since recreational soccer.
The two of you were on the same recreational soccer team from the youngest age, to the eldest. You thought she was the most beautiful girl in the ugly red t-shirts.
Eventually you both had grown up, so you had to move on to middle school. But she was still the most beautiful girl in Wiskayok’s Middle School Girl’s Soccer jersey.
The redheaded girl was the star goal keeper, and you were the star defender. It had always been that way, and it always would be.
Van and you became close through soccer. Neither of your parents ever made efforts to come to your games or to pick you up from practices. So the two of you would sit together on the activity buses.
Now, both of you on the highschool soccer team, are the best of friends.
Although Van wished you were more.
The two of you sat on the bus together on the way to an away game. None of you were dreading it, because all of you knew you had this in the bag.
Van startles you when she taps your shoulder, making both of you burst into a fit of laughter which has eyes drawn to you.
She pulls your wired ear buds out of your ears, “Will you braid my hair?”
You roll your eyes, “You know I will.”
Earlier in the day, around lunchtime, you were teasing Van saying you wouldn’t do her hair today due to her withhold of answers on the health homework.
You’d become the person everyone came to to get their hair braided for games, events, or even just to have their hair done. You didn’t mind it, you loved that you were needed for something other than fetching beer for your father.
You pulled an earbud back into your ear and offered one to Van, since the two of you had similar music taste, you often listened together.
When your hand touches Van’s ear, she gets goosebumps. You don’t question it.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
You soon pulled into the opposing teams school parking lot.
It was a nice school, you had to admit, it was better than yours. But you wished their team was better than their school. You needed something to take your mind off everything going on at home.
When the team arrived, the team you were up against was still in class. Which meant you had about an hour and a half to two hours.
Jackie was the first to come up to you, almost as soon as you stepped foot off the bus.
Van rolled her eyes, which both you and Jackie caught. The latter smiled knowingly, because almost every single person on the Wiskayok soccer team, knew about Van’s feelings towards you. Except you, of course.
You nodded and Jackie grabbed your arm to lead you to the benches so you could start on her hair.
Jackie asked you some questions about you, school, home, and then about Van. She insisted she was just curious and that it was her job to be since she owned the title of captain.
You answered honestly, about all of it.
Once you were done with Jackie’s hair, Shauna insisted you do her next so she could spend as much time practicing as possible. She didn’t talk much, but she kept glancing at Van who now sat beside you once Jackie left.
After Shauna, Van immediately sat in front of you so you could finally do her hair. She needed to be ready as soon as possible, because they needed to warm up the star goalie.
You brush her hair out and part it. When your finger touches Van’s forehead she gets goosebumps again. This makes your eyebrows come together in concern.
“Are you good?” You leaned down to look at her face.
She hums and nods, eager to get out of this situation. The last thing she wanted to do today was her feelings towards you. Because if you were to reject her, she’d be in a mood, and she wouldn’t play her best.
When you finish the first braid you move to her other side to begin her next braid, trying to decide what to say to get the truth out of her.
She jumps slightly when you begin the next braid and that’s enough for you. Your hands leave her hair, making her turn to you in question.
“Why do you keep doing that?!” You freaked out.
“Doing what?” Van asked in a calmer voice than yours.
“Jumping and- and getting goosebumps. Is something wrong? Am I doing something wrong? Do you not like the braids? Do you want me to do something else? Or are you just nervous for the game? What’s wrong? Tell me,” You spit out questions at full speed.
“y/n,” Van smiled. “There’s something I should tell you.”
Even though she didn’t want to tell you, she did. She knew if she didn’t now you would just keep asking and you wouldn’t play your best because of your overthinking. And she’d rather it be her than you.
“I like you.”
“Oh. I like you too,” You tilt your head.
“No,” Van closes her eyes in frustration. “I like you as more than a friend.”
“Duh. That’s what I just said,” You roll your eyes.
“Oh,” Van chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck.
You lean down and give her a kiss. You don’t realize it, but now the whole team is watching as the two of you make out on the bench. Everyone’s grateful you guys finally admitted the feelings—even the coaches were. The tension was beginning to get unbearable.
“Finally!” Tai yells in your direction. You and Van both flip her off.
You laugh again and pull her in for another kiss.
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justmeinatree · 10 months
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That second part of Made Of Something New!😍😍 Wow, I feel like we need a prompt where him and his girl are just chilling at home smoking weed and he does the blowing smoke into her mouth (can't remember what it's called, haven't smoked weed in almost 3 years😂) or maybe one where she's never smoked before and he does the blowing smoke in her mouth to get her used to it, I need more stoner Niall!😍😂
shotgunning !!! hahaha
hi, omg first of all, thank you so much for reading and taking the time to reach out. you’re fkn amazing 😍
second, i dont think you know what you were getting yourself into 😅 i’m ALWAYS here for stoner niall. -signed, your friendly neighbourhood stoner ✌️
TW : drugs, it’s kinda smutty esque ?
Word Count : 1.2k 🤦‍♀️ oopsie
“niaaaalllllll,” you whine for the hundredth time in the last half hour.
you were in a heat wave, and niall’s air conditioning decided that last night would be the perfect time to give out. which, in theory isn’t a big deal. but the repair company is swamped and they can’t be here until next week.
“can take another cold shower,” niall offers, sprawled on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table, each of his limbs starfished out so that nothing is touching, in an effort to not be sweaty.
you were sitting next to him, much in the same position, wearing nothing but a tank top and panties.
“i can come with you this time,” he smirks over at you, but you shake your head no, the heat always seemingly worse once you step out of the cold water.
“you know,” niall smiles excitedly. “on tour when it gets really warm on the bus, we smoke some weed. the heat doesn’t seem as bad.”
“oh, but you know how bad weed makes me choke,” you pout at him. “can’t imagine coughing up a lung would help cool me down in any way.”
“what if i promise you wont ?” he asks, looking over at you.
“you can’t promise that,” you raise your eyebrow at him, intrigued none the less at how he plans on assuring that.
“yeah, actually, i can,” he chuckles, peeling himself off the couch, going to retrieve a joint. leaving you without so much as a clue to what he’s thinking.
niall comes back into the living room, joint and lighter in one hand, a mason jar lid in the other as a makeshift ash tray. he plops down next to you, hand reaching out for yours, pulling you towards him, “come sit in my lap.”
you cant possibly imagine how sitting your barely panty clad cunt on him, while he’s in the smallest pair of briefs he owns, is ever going to not make you warmer. but he seems very keen on this, so you find yourself going along, swinging your thigh over his to sit in his lap.
niall smiles at you quickly, flicking his gaze down to the joint and lighter in his hands. he’s holding them between your bodies, thumb flicking over the lighter, rotating the tip of the joint into the flame to light it evenly.
he brings the filter to his lips. you’re watching him attentively, always amazed at how easy this seems for him. you assume the extra experience he has on you, helps a lot.
you’re not sure if it’s the heat, your cunt on his dick, or the way his cheeks suck in as he inhales, but you find yourself tingling inside. his eyes look over to you as he holds it in his lungs, blowing out the smoke above your head.
“ready ?” niall smiles at you, leaning forward to bump his nose softly against yours.
“i dont know,” you chuckle. “haven’t told me what you wanna do.”
“s’called shotgunning,” he murmurs against your lips. “s’real simple. just open your mouth when i say and inhale.” he kisses you quickly, pulling away from you, giving himself enough space to bring the joint back up to his lips.
niall takes another long drag, nodding towards your lips, silently giving you a signal.
you part your lips nervously, still not totally convinced this wont hurt.
niall’s nose bumps against yours again, his eyes fixated on yours for any signs to stop, as he starts blowing out the smoke into your mouth.
you inhale what he has to offer, holding it momentarily, and blowing it out next to his face. you’re not coughing. it’s a fucking miracle. “again,” you find yourself murmuring, eyes still locked on his.
he smiles knowingly, taking another drag. this time, his hand cups your neck to hold you steady, his mouth trailing a few kisses over the side of your jaw.
niall’s thumb comes up to swipe against your bottom lip, “open.”
he’s making you lose your mind, his lips ghosting right over yours as he blows the smoke into your mouth once more.
as niall takes another drag, his thumb stays against your lip. you take the opportunity to suck the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.
he’s watching you, pushing more of his thumb in your mouth, feeling you suck harder, your tongue working over his digit.
niall presses his thumb against your tongue, forcing your mouth open, a breathy whimper leaving you, as he exhales into your awaiting mouth.
a shiver runs through your body, the buzz, the heat, the stiffness of niall’s cock, his thumb, all of it. you’re so fucking turned on.
“can’t possibly tell me you’re cold,” niall coos, catching the twitch of your shiver run through your body, his large hard gripping your jaw to make you look at him.
“want you,” you whimper.
he can tell. your hips have started grinding onto him, but he’s not even sure you’ve noticed. your pupils are blown wide, surely from both the weed and the effect he currently has on you.
niall looks down to where your hips are working on him, and he notices it. if he focuses hard enough through the weed induced fog, he can feel it. your arousal has soaked right through his boxers.
“lucky s’the last puff,” niall whispers, resting his forehead against yours momentarily. “you’re making a real mess of me, pretty girl.”
you reach out to press your lips against his, honestly not caring for the last puff in the slightest. you were already stoned and you wanted to kiss him, now. all these featherlight, barely there touches, really getting to you.
but niall loves teasing you. he pulls away so his lips are just our of reach, always quicker than you are, as you chase his mouth.
you groan in frustration, your forehead dropping to his chest. you can feel the moment he brings the joint to his lips, chest puffing out as he takes the last drag.
niall’s hand weaves its way into your hair, thrown into a very messy bun, in an attempt to help with the heat, tugging harshly to make you look up at him.
you grind down harder on his cock, your pussy fluttering over nothing, moaning as his other hand grips your jaw to force it open. your body trembles as you suck in the last bit of smoke, lips crashing onto his, finally.
the kiss is messy, full of clashing teeth and tongue as you both so desperately craved the moment where your lips actually touched.
one of niall’s hands reaches down between your bodies to push your panties aside, exposing your dripping cunt. he’s quick to shimmy out of his briefs, just enough for his cock to be freed.
the bobbing of his prick smacks right up against your clit, a wave of heat shooting through your body. and thank fuck you were much too stoned to notice. guess niall was right after all.
……
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the-real-ali · 6 months
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Stupid twink gets eaten by goth queer
Puff lied in his bunk, it was around 3:25 AM. The other band members were asleep so had to be quiet to not wake anyone up. He would get up and quietly get out of his bunk to grab a snack. He opened the mini fridge and looked around and there was a container saying ‘Axl’s food DO NOT TOUCH’. Puff would take the container out from the fridge and softly mumble to himself “Eh who cares, it’s just some food i’m sure he won’t mind”, Puff would take the food back to his bunk and begin eating, and after a bit he would put the empty the container on the side and head to sleep. He would be awakened by Axel speaking “Puff, do you know who ate my food, because I swear to god whoever did it I'll teach them a lesson they won’t forget”. Puff would reach for his glasses and put them on before responding to Axel “Ugh no Axel I don’t know and I don’t care for your fucking food, just go buy more dumbass”, Axel would scoff and walk away to ask the other members clearly annoyed. Benatar and Deejay's voices could be heard, they would both stay if they didn’t take his food. Puff could hear the two say something about getting food then the tour bus door slamming shut. The two of them were left alone, Axel continued to give Puff dirty stares, like he knew Puff ate his food, “Sooooo uh Axel if I told you who ate your food, What would you do?” Puff would ask, his voice had a slightly guilty tone to it. He would hear the goth's stomach growl “You know I wouldn’t be so hungry right now if someone didn’t eat my food, and if I found out who ate my food, which I know. I’ll teach them a lesson, so puff would you like to explain why the container with my name on it was in your bunk empty”, Axel would respond to puffs question before going up to him. Puff stared up at his band member, his large height towering over him, “L-Look i’m really sorry it was late and I-I was just really hungry. Deejay and Benatar went out to get more food. We can just forget about this happening and we c-can be on good terms” Puff's tone was slightly scared. Axel would put his hands on Puff's waist “Puff I don’t care that Deejay and Ben went out to get food. I’m angry because you took my food while I was sleeping, you could’ve just asked. but now I’m hungry and upset and you have to deal with these consequences” Axel's tone was slightly rough as he picked up a puff, He would struggle and thrashed around in axels grasp, his tone was shaky “A-Axel wait we can talk about this I know you’re upset but let’s not do anything too drastic”. Axel would roll his eyes and open his mouth to bring Puff close, his warm breath against his band leader's face. Puff's squirms got more violent as he was brought closer to Axel's mouth, Axel started pushing Puff into his mouth, and his grip remained tight as he swallowed. Puff continued to struggle and squirm but despite his efforts, he was overpowered, his body begins squeezed down the goths esophagus, and after some hard forceful swallows puff was fully in axels stomach causing it to bulge out “AXEL YOU FATASS LET ME OUT!” puff would angrily yell out, squirming and struggling in Axel's gut. Axel lied in his bunk patting and poking his gut in a teasing manner “I’ll let you out later you big baby this is just a small punishment, well not small” he teasingly giggled then yawned. Knowing what his bandmate meant, puff got comfy and closed his eyes attempting to sleep while listening to Axel's heart beating, he sighed softly before asking “Axel.. just wake me up when you’re going to let me out”. The stomach walls expanded and contracted around Puff's body as he relaxed, the soothing feeling slowly pulling him deeper into his slumber. The last thing he heard was Axel's response followed by a soft sigh “Alright puff… but if you do this again I won’t hesitate to eat yo ass, wait that came out wrong know what just go to sleep.” Puff sighed and ignored what Axel said before falling asleep
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