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#feeling rather snarky this morning
stabby-apologist · 1 year
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Good morning to everyone except for:
People who say they want their coffee black but then say "two sugars".
People who put milk first then cereal
People who scrape their fork on the plate when they cut their steak
People who eat their eggs with ketchup
People who say towards instead of toward
People who take a shower in the mornings
People who don't wet their toothbrush first then toothpaste then wet it again
People who respond with the price when they get a compliment on their stuff like "nice shoes", "thanks, they were $5!!:
People who remove whipped cream from their milkshakes at Steak and Shake
People who always have three or more orders in the drive thru
People who suggest "they might be hungry" to new mothers after they just fed their very angy baby
People who think a c-section is the easy way out
People who have an assortment of teas (chamomile, earl gray, green, etc)—extra snarkiness to those who have an actual container to sort them out
People who put their pantry items in alphabetical order
People who don't have a bag full of bags
People who go out of their way to correct others on whether it's who or whom to unsuspecting prey
People who use smoke vapes with no nicotine
People who like Big Red
People who would rather want jelly instead of jam
People who eat steak without A1 sauce
People who pronounce Worcestershire sauce as Worsh-Ster-Sure Sauce
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lxclerc · 6 months
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
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summary... in which karma finally bites you in the ass faceclaim... christina nadin pairing... charles leclerc x reader warning... none so far. petty charles and petty reader
note... i need everyone to pretend like all the text messages are in french. also no charles yet but lots of charles in the next part.
series masterlist main masterlist
part one → current part (part two) → part three
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charles leclerc has never been on your podcast. it isn’t for the lack of trying per se but rather out of your own sheer stubbornness and need to protect your pride. chasing red, the motorsport podcast you’d built from the ground up, consists of you and your best friend emma. months ago, emma had emailed charles inviting him as a guest with emma alone as the host. it’s already unusual in itself considering you’re in every episode, but charles had replied to the email with a sort of snarkiness you aren’t used to but definitely not surprised to hear. 
dear emma,
if y/n wants me as a guest then she can contact me herself. thank you. sincerely, charles
it had been short and to the point and you’d rolled your eyes when you read it. if charles wanted to be petty then you’re certainly not about to appear on his doorstep begging him to come on your show. charles seems to forget that he’s gotten his pettiness from you. 
still, after that particularly irritating email, emma had been badgering you to explain what had happened. charles leclerc is the nice guy after all. who else would let ferrari fuck them over as much and still scream forza ferrari at the top of his lungs? according to emma, it’s simply impossible for charles to respond in such a way without some hidden history between the two of you. 
and she wouldn’t be wrong but you’d been able to keep that under wraps pretty well. you’ve kept your past right where it belongs – in the past and in your opinion, there’s simply no need to dig up old bones. of course, up until now as you watched with furrowed brows as your name trended on twitter. it seems no matter how deep you bury old bones, it comes back and haunts you – or in your case, bites you in the ass.
“you dated him!” you winced at emma’s sharp tone. you already feel a headache coming in – you hadn’t expected to be shoved down memory lane at a random tuesday if you’re being completely honest and you’re definitely not in the right state of mind to be dealing with it. 
“keep your voice down,” you say, putting your phone down and allowing yourself a sip of your coffee as you try to ignore emma’s incredulous looks. 
“you dated him?” she says again, in a sarcastic whisper this time that made you roll your eyes. you hated her sometimes. you love her of course, but you really hate her sometimes. 
and you hate whichever idiot got ahold of those photos. everyone seems to have so much to say but they can’t seem to comprehend that the charles and y/n in those photos aren’t the same charles and y/n now. you’re both grown now, no longer little kids fueled only with dreams and ambitions. now you’re fueled entirely by coffee and the will to not stalk his social media. 
you’re over charles leclerc. you’re so over him that you spend all your time applauding yourself just how over him you are. of course, you’ve seen charles around after the break up. you both live in monaco after all. it’s impossible not to accidentally pass by each other walking to the grocery store or be at the same restaurant or the same party. you’ve seen him around the paddock multiple times but neither of you say anything. sometimes your eyes meet and the familiarity in each other is difficult to ignore but mostly, you just walk past each other as though you’re strangers, as if you hadn’t spent your childhood memorizing the patterns in his eyes. 
you groaned at where your mind went. this is the last thing you want to be thinking – or talking – about at eight in the morning. you blame twitter and emma entirely for your predicament. it doesn’t help that you share an apartment with her too. 
“no comment,” you say finally at her expectant face. 
her little evil grin terrifies you as he picks up a stack of papers from the coffee table, placing it in front of you. “i’d suggest clearing the air between the two of you before thursday because you’re spending vegas with ferrari.” 
you almost spit your coffee as you grabbed the paper and double checked. unfortunately, there it is in plain sight, your sponsor team right next to ferrari. the document contains your schedule for vegas as an F1 presenter. you’ve been lucky enough not to be assigned to ferrari since you’ve been assigned the job three months ago. but alas, all your bad karma seems to have finally caught up with you today as you read through your itinerary, the first words being an ice breaker game with carlos sainz and charles leclerc proceeding with a hot lap with one of the drivers on friday. 
oh jesus christ, you’re screwed. 
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yourusername
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liked by arthur_leclerc and others
yourusername vegas ready and sporting red for the weekend!
view all comments...
emmauser very excited for the weekend
⤷ yourusername 🖕🏻
⤷ username emma what do you know
username god have answered all my prayers and forced y/n and charles to finally interact
username watching the childhood lovers to strangers, forced proximity trope in real time
⤷ username i am so invested actually
username her and charles are my roman empire
⤷ username they have consumed every nook and cranny of my feeble brain im afraid
username now what in the booktok is going on
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taglist: @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes
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gojo-enthusiast · 2 months
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Kento Nanami — No Words, Only Moans
mlist<3
18+, MDI, degrading, angry sex, overstimulation—
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Your darling husband Kento Nanami was not happy with you today. You had always known he was a rather patient husband, so you naturally got away with little back talk, and snarky remarks. This morning you made your husband late for work, when you decided late at night to rearrange his shoes and clothes, you hadn’t realized you didn’t hang his dress shirt he wore for missions, now his laundry is wrinkled, and on the floor. Gojo now calling Kento asking him where he is at?
All through out the day, you had called him asking him common sense questions, like “what are your thoughts on white bread and wheat bread” but to you, you were seeking attention from your agitated husband, and seeing him getting frustrated by your actions, only fueled for you to piss him off more. Finally after the last call, Kento finally was done with your attitude. “Fuck, quit calling me for the rest of the day. You’re driving me berserk.” He snaps. “Excuse me?” You ask in an agitated tone. “You have been picking on me all day, if you don’t have an emergency do not call me, I am working. Fuck— Itadori-Kun, don’t touch that! Gojo-San, you fucking dumbass!” He shouts, hanging up the phone. At this point you knew, you fucked up. Your ass was grass when he got home, he either was going to scold you, or not talk to you until he cools down.
You paced around the living room, as 5PM hit, meaning your husband was going to be home in 17 minutes. Sitting on the couch, cuddled under a blanket, biting your nails. You see the nob turn, and keys dangling. You hear a light mutter behind the door, and a frustrated grunt. “Fuck fuck fuck.” You think to yourself. You rushed to the bathroom, instantly turning the hot water on for a bath, knowing your husband was going to be angry with you, you were trying to soften up his feelings as much as possible. As you hear the front door slam shut. You begin to start putting some epsom salts and essential oils in the bath, something to calm him down. Your heart is racing, your skin has chill bumps. You lacked much cursed energy, so you lived your life as a normal person, but at this moment, you sensed his presence the closer he got, until he was at the bathroom door, staring at you.
“Hey Ken— I drew you a bath.” You lightly said, watching him loosen his tie, you could see his blue shirt was still wrinkled, and he looked disheveled. “Let me take your clothes and I’ll wash and iron them.” You add lightly. Your husband has YET to say a word. You walk over to him, grabbing the tie that was bundled in his hands, and begin to unbutton his shirt, wanting to take full care of your Kento. You felt his head droop down, his mouth next to your ear.
“Listen to me carefully.” He says in a seductive growl. “You’re not allowed to speak, until I say you’re allowed the speak.” He says, making your heart race even faster, “take off your clothes and bend over the counter… now.” He growls. You look up to say something, but you knew if you did so, you might be the next thing he exercises. You look up at him, with your innocent doe eyes, pleading with him to be easy on you. But you saw clear in his eyes, tonight is about him, and him only, he will use you till his hearts content. “Now.” He says louder. You nod lightly, pulling your nightgown off, only left in your silk panties, that you hadn’t even realized you soaked in your arousal. “Wtf is wrong with me?” You think to yourself.
You bend over the counter, hearing your husband turn off the tub, and then come up behind you, his clothed manhood pressed against you, as he gently rubs the fat of your ass, before he lands a hard slap on it. Making your legs shake, and a yelp coming out of your lips. “HUSH!” He shouts. You close your mouth, feeling your arousal slip out of you. “Look at you, soaked. Is this what you wanted, you act like a fucking brat all day, for me to fuck you?” He hisses, he was beyond furious, you could feel the heat coming off his body. He peeled your underwear off, dropping it at your ankles. A moment later, you feel him push a silicone item inside your hole, your walls hugging it so perfectly. “Ah—“ you moan. Then another slap on your ass. You covered your mouth. “Fuck, Do you not fucking listen?” He asks. You nodded, and then stifled the moan that almost escaped your mouth when you felt the machine turn on. “Stand there, and take it. I’m gonna take a bath.” Kento smirks to himself. “Don’t you fucking dare move or talk. I only give you permission to moan.”
Kento watched you as he sat in the bath, relaxing after a long day. He watched you as the vibrator which he controlled on a remote, made you cum over and over and over. It had been the 5th time now, you were crying in pleasure, you couldn’t speak, but your moans were confirming to him, that you were wanting to be fucked merciless. Your hearing had gone in and out, but you heard your husband step out of the bath and walk up to you. He pulled the device out of you, and quickly replaced it with his cock. Instantly slamming into you. “You little slut, you like it when I fuck you like this? You’re gonna fuckin take it.” He grunts, his hips were like a stallion, he slammed them forcefully and fucked you stupid. You felt him pick you up, showcasing yourself to the mirror. “Watch how I fuck your slutty cunt. Watch how I fix that brattiness.” He grunts in your ear, you sat there and watch your husband fuck up into you roughly, “Ken-“ you groan, feeling so overstimulated. “SHUT UP!” he shouts, biting your shoulder. You yelped out from the bite, feeling your stomach tingle, “shut up shut up shut up!” He chanted, he didn’t want to hear you, he wanted to hear nothing come out of your mouth. “I only want to hear your pussy, she listens, unlike you.” He growls, slamming faster, placing his hand on your clit, rubbing quickly. He loved the way you would clamp down on him as you were approaching an orgasm.
You blacked out after squirting all over the mirror, you woke up 10 minutes later, to you lied on your stomach, and your back arched. Kento was slamming into you still. His cock was throbbing, he had busted already, yet he needed more. “Fuck!! You make me so fucking angry. You never fucking listen.” He says as he thrust. “Kenny, I’m sorry baby. Please slow down.” You moan, feeling your walls and stomach tighten again. “I can’t hear anything, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He grunted, he was so entranced and addicted to your pussy that nothing you could do, could calm him the fuck down. “Please, ah- Kenny.” You whimpered, you moaned so deliciously, making his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, I could fuck you forever. I don’t want to hear— hear your words, I just want to hear you cry for more.” Kento groaned, his cock was so sensitive, yet he couldn’t stop. “Ken, feels so so good. I’ll be so so good now, I just-just missed you so so much.” You moan out. “I wont ever leave you.” He moaned into your ear, as his thrust began to get sloppy, and his head next to yours. You felt him pull out, flipping you over, inserting himself back into you sopping sensitive cunt. He thrust quickly, while her hand found your clit and rubbed it quickly. “Cum, now.” He grunted, as his cock twitched and started shooting out inside of you. “Ah yes yes yes!” You chanted, cumming and squirting all over his cock. “Kento, please slow down.” You moaned, feeling your legs spasm. You simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Water, I need water.” You groan. Your husband’s vision, finally clearing and his head less foggy. “Hmm?” He hummed as he slid out, and lied beside you, slipping off the bed to grab water. You stared at his figure, as his cock began to finally soften, and he looked thoroughly satisfied. He handed you a bottle water, and you downed it like you were dehydrated. “I’m sorry kento.” You pout. He kissed your forehead, and whispered. “I’m not done with you yet. You better get your breather in, you messed with me for 8 hours, we have 5 more hours to go.” He said, as you watched his cock swole back up. The only thought in your head— “oh fuck, I really fucked up.”
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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I’m a Bad Liar with a Savior Complex —
Part two,, 2k words,, Vox x reader
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a/n — THIS IS A FOLLOW UP FIC OF THE FIRST ONE BY THE WAY. For those who didn’t know even though I literally spelled it out in the title.
warnings — Angst, toxic relationships, mild fluff, discussion of injuries, read the first part first!
summary — Part two of ‘I’m a Bad Liar with a Savior Complex’ where Vox comes to the reader after a particularly bad fight with Val.
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“I love you.”
The words echoed throughout your mind as you drifted in and out of consciousness. I love you. 
What a load of bullshit. Vox didn’t love you, he just loved your attention and wanted to keep it for as long as possible. That had to be it.
But he was so tired, he couldn’t have possibly had control over what he was saying. And besides, the idea that everything Vox says is perfectly calculated is giving him way too much credit.
Isn’t that what got him into this mess in the first place? Of course, it was the sloppiness of his words that cause that crack in his screen.
But you didn’t want to underestimate him. He could get what he wanted easily in most circumstances.
His emotions usually got the best of him, yeah. But in this case? You weren’t sure. Is that what happened?
You wonder vaguely if he got caught up in the moment and blurted out the first thing he thought. But that would imply that, at least a part of his subconscious meant it.
No, you didn’t want that. In fact, you hoped it was just a tactic to get more out of you. That would make things a whole lot easier. 
Oh well, an issue for the morning, you supposed. In his sleep, Vox had turned over on his side, back pressed up to your stomach.
You gave into the fatigue and snuggled in closer to him, resting your head in the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his middle.
With one final sigh at the events of the night, you shut your eyes and waited for sleep to take you.
When you awoke, Vox was still asleep. But you were sure it was morning, maybe even past noon.
Patiently, you waited for a little while for Vox to wake before going to get coffee. However, after a good ten minutes, you figured he wasn’t done sleeping.
God, it had to be about tem hours now, you thought lazily as you stretch on the end of the bed. Poor guy had a rough night. 
With that, you head to the kitchen, pouring yourself and Vox, just in case, a cup of coffee. You do your usual morning routine, brushing your teeth, watching TV on the couch, things like that. 
After about an hour, and after reheating Vox’s coffee, you decide to head back into your room to check on him. 
He was sound asleep, screen completely dark and still curled up on his side. You sigh at the sight, he looked adorable. 
Once again, you climb into bed with him, holding him close to you. You plant a kiss on his neck and, finally, he stirs.
He arched his back, stretching and yawning as his screen powered on. Without thinking, he sleepily turned over in your arms and nuzzled into your neck.
He winced when your chin bumped the bandages on his screen. You rub his back and kiss his forehead, soothing him awake.
“Morning, sleeping beauty. How you feeling?” You speak softly, voice still gravely from not having spoken all day.
He hummed quietly, “Not great considering half of my face is gone.” 
And we’re back to snarky comments, but it was better than him crying. 
You nod your head and breathe out a laugh, “Yeah, well you look like you’re holding up pretty decently. Oh, I got you coffee.”
He doesn’t sit up, “Not yet.” 
“Are you sure? It might get cold—“
“Just not yet,” He looked up at you longingly, subconsciously holding onto your shirt tighter. “I just woke up, give me a minute before you shoving liquids down my throat.” 
In reality, Vox didn’t want a reason to get up. Although he appreciated the thought, he’d rather you not have gotten him coffee in the first place.
He had a terrible sinking feeling. One that told him, if you get up, you’ll never get this moment back. And he liked this moment; waking up in your arms, exchanging banter while still tired.
It all felt so domestic. Something that, usually, Vox wouldn’t like. But with you it felt different. It contrasted so heavily with his usual life, Valentino aside, just the stress of running Voxtech in general. 
And yeah, he didn’t feel perfectly right now, but he felt okay being taken care of like this. The idea of getting up and leaving was weighing on him.
Although with lack of better judgment, Vox waited for you to pick up on this. 
If you did, it wasn’t shown.
“You don’t have to run into work soon, do you?” you inquire, tracing up Vox’s back with your nails.
“Not today, no. Well, I mean, if I want a new screen then yes,” Vox paused, “But I don’t have to do that for a while.”
The last part was added quickly and uncharacteristically hesitant. You were starting to pick up on it now, his reluctance to leave.
You think for a moment, “You know, you could hang around the apartment for as long as you want too.”
He nodded, “Well, I don’t know if i’m in much of a state to leave, anyways. Damn… fucked up face.”
And with that it’s decided, Vox wasn’t going to leave until he felt like it. Which, for all either of you cared at the time being, could have been never.
The day passed in small sequences. Just as you suspected, Vox acted almost completely normal, as if his head injury had never happened. Even though it was clearly bothering him. 
However, he did surprise you in a couple ways. One, he was still here instead of in Valentino’s arms ‘making up’ and, more accurately, making out. And two, he was far more touchy than usual, in a physical sense. 
Every pat your back or hand on your shoulder lasted five seconds to long, lingering in an unbearably noticeable way. 
Although you continued the day fairly normally, despite these setbacks, Vox faced a dilemma.
A simple one, on the surface at least; the question of why you were helping him? If Vox wasn’t mistaken, and he so rarely was, you were supposed to be just a sex thing.
Then why did this feel like more? Why did he feel a deep desire for you, one that goes past getting his dick wet. He wanted you like this, kind and caring. He felt as if, at the moment, he needed it.
Almost a foreign feeling. Almost.
He knew all of the pride ring needed him for electricity, that was simple. He needed them for power in a more metaphorical sense.
And similarly, Valentino needed him too. And it was abundantly clear the feeling was mutual. What’d they get out of that? Sex, the support of a powerful individual, eachothers less-than-ideal company.
Much like that, he couldn’t quite place the origin of his need for you. But this felt different, it wasn’t codependency. It was a sense of unwarranted generosity, the lack of any overarching deal or necessity for one another out of greed or toxic attachment.
You treated him with kindness simply because you were kind. Now, that was a foreign feeling. He wondered vaguely if he would do the same for you. He hoped he would. In reality, he knew he wouldn’t.
Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this kind of life. But maybe, at this very moment in time, he didn’t care. He wasn’t really planning his every step from this point on, nor did he want to be.
Of course, usually, yes that would be the actions taken to ensure nothing bad comes of this. But a large part of him didn’t want to think about anything bad happening because of this.
That would make your relationship, whatever it was, just like everything he was holding it above. 
“You good there, Vox?” You smile over to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
You two sat on the couch together, watching tv lazily. Your knees were pulled up onto the couch, touching the base of his thighs. He on the other hand, didn’t look comfortable at all.
In fact, he looked tense.
You rub his shoulder encouragingly. He frowns deeply and diverts his gaze. Your smile. He was already getting used to your smile.
Although, he didn’t know how much time he had left with it. Knowing himself, no matter how hard he tried, Val would enter the picture again, just like he always does.
Just like how Vox always lets him. More than ‘lets,’ fully embraces, more like. He not only enables that behavior, he encourages it.
“I’m fine,” he answered shortly. Oh, very nice, he thought, i’m sure that snippy response wouldn’t push anyone away.
“Hey,” you say so softly that Vox winces at your gentleness, “Tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can try to fix it.”
Vox breathes out a bitter laugh and then points to his broken face, “Wow, I fucking wonder.” 
You frown and pull back, “I know that’s not all.” 
Vox stayed silent before leaning towards you and out stretching his arms slightly. It was a perfect indirect way of inviting a hug.
You accept, pulling him in and wrapping your hands around his middle, rubbing his back. He slinks his arms around your neck and scooting closer to you.
“I could go with you, you know?” You say quietly.
“Um, where?”
“Your office. To get the new screen? So you wouldn’t—“ so he wouldn’t have to be alone, but you don’t say that. You just imply it. “—so you wouldn’t have to drive there with half a face. Feels dangerous.”
He sunk deeper in your arms, almost letting out a sigh of relief, “That’s a good idea. Not exactly in the state to drive, if you can’t tell.”
You drive him to the Vees building and offer to wait in the car, but for whatever stupid reason, he insists you come in.
His not even particularly sure why, he just does. Vox is, in every other scenario, sure about everything he does. There’s always a reason for every move. 
But with you, that wasn’t necessarily true. That bothered him. 
The walk in is easy enough, same with the elevator ride to his office. Once you step into the terrible machine, you can’t help but get a terrible sinking feeling in your stomach. 
As if a fire-breathing dragon awaits the other side of the door to snatch Vox up and take him away. 
However, when the doors open, there is no dragon. There isn’t anyone. Just Vox’s office, to which he leads the way as you two walk in.
“This should just take a second. I know I put the fucker around here somewhere,” Vox shifts around in his desk cabinets for his new parts. 
That’s when you hear him. The silent calm in the room is broken when a voice calls from down the hall. 
You don’t hear what it says, nor do you really care about the specifics. The specifics don’t matter when you see the look on Vox’s face. 
It isn’t a fire breathing dragon, it isn’t even a monster. Simply, a moth. But oh, how you hated it.
Vox spares you a glance before calling back to the voice. In your mind, it doesn’t matter what he said either. In fact, it’s all relatively muffled. You know that was it, you know you just lost him. 
Whatever today was, it was over. Just as you suspected, the routine would kick back in. A good fuck, maybe some cuddling, not seeing each other for days at a time, rinse and repeat.
In truth, Vox was gone the second he stepped into his office. This was his environment, not the softly lit surroundings of your apartment.
The love he felt for you last night would be absent from his mind until the next time he comes to you to lick his wounds.
You shove your hands in your pockets. Vox spares you a hesitant glance before walking away to follow Valentinos voice. 
That was the difference between you too, Vox’s love was conditional, yours was not. 
It was as simple as that and, unfortunately, you both knew that. While as a part of Vox hated himself for it, you accepted it with an empty dullness.
You knew his ‘I love you’ wouldn’t last, just like you knew he wasn’t being truthful about how his screen broke.
After all, he was a bad liar.
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a/n — What if I said this fic takes place in the same timeline as my ‘I Could be a Better Boyfriend’ fic. And then what if I lied and said I was planning that all along?
What then?
also last minute edit but pretty sure @imsoboredlmfao wanted to be tagged so here it is!
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pauli-writes · 2 months
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May I request an Aventurine with a reader who's a member of the Astral Express?
Have a nice day!
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warning: reader is suffering from nightmares, references to gambling (it’s aventurine after all), flirting
pairing: aventurine x reader
author’s note: this man has taken over my mind, i’m so excited for 2.1 !!! also thank you for requesting, sorry this took so long i had private matters to take care of :3 (this is once again not proofread and partially written at 3am)
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being quiet was never really your forte.
whenever you couldn’t sleep at the night you’d restlessly wonder around the astral express, the morning after dan heng would usually complain that you were too loud even though you were trying real hard to stay quiet.
now in the reverie, the hotel in penacony you were staying at, the space was much bigger and the occupants much more lively, not to mention dan heng wasn’t even with you, so he had no chance to complain.
another restless night and you wandered around the hotel. while other guests indulged in the dreamscape, you stayed in reality, afraid that the usual comfort of the dreamscape will twist into something ugly and gruesome for you because of your nightly terrors.
you looked around, most people were asleep, only a few guest were awake, sitting by the bar or enjoying the music. without your friends from the express you felt a little out of place.
“oh, and what do we have here?” a voice snapped you out of your self pity. you looked around, only to find that ipc guy from when you were checking in standing next to you, a golden coin being twirled in between his fingers. “aren’t you a member of the astral express? i think i saw you earlier...”
“i am…” you replied cautiously, not sure of his intentions. “you’re with the ipc, correct?”
he smirked, he threw his coin in the air before pocketing it. “yes. tell me something, why aren’t you dreaming with the rest of your friends?”
you tensed up, unsure of how much you should reveal to him. you didn’t even know his name yet. “i don’t sleep well.”
he paused, looking at you curiously. “do you now?”
“yes.” you said defensively and slightly annoyed. he wasn’t exactly making a good first impression on you despite his rather attractive appearance. “why aren’t you dreaming?”
“let’s just say i have business to take care of first,” he replied, in the same breath he pulled out a pack of cards. “although i have some time to kill until my meeting, care for a game?”
you thought for a moment, before nodding. “it’s not like i have anything better to do…”
the blond smiled and started shuffling the cards with his skilful fingers, you didn’t even know what game you were playing yet, but found yourself at least slightly interested. you gained your hand and he explained the rules, but a few turns in it was apparent that he was much better than you. he won easily.
you sighed and gave him his cards back. “you don’t mess around, huh?”
he chuckled, “of course not. i play to win.”
“even without a wager,” you mused with a smile, watching as he put the cards away. he chuckled too.
“i have too leave now. it was nice meeting you, i hope to see you again, sweetheart.” he flashed you a charming smile and a wink.
you rolled your eyes playfully, “you don’t even know my name, i doubt you’d even remember me.”
“oh, i think it’d be impossible not to remember you. you’re very unique believe it or not.” he stepped closer to you, it was then that you noticed how he was slightly taller than you. you opened your mouth to give him another snarky remark, but was stopped as he pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek. as he pulled away you could feel your face heating up.
“cute.” he said with a chuckle as he stepped away from you, “we’ll meet again after everything is over. i promise you that.”
he walked away, giving you a nonchalant wave over his shoulder and leaving you sitting at the bar with a bright red face. you watched him walk up the stairs, disappearing down the hallways leading to the rooms.
once he was out of your sight you calmed down a bit and gathered your thoughts, it was then that you noticed that there was a foreign object in the pocket of your coat. you grabbed it and looked at it, it was a playing card, queen of hearts, on the back scribbled with a golden pen was:
something to remember me by
- aventurine
you couldn’t help but grin and pocketed the card, just in that moment you saw mr. yang and himiko walk down the stairs talking animatedly. did you really spend the entire night awake…?
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nishloves · 9 months
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jelly; yuji itadori (jujutsu kaisen)
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yuji itadori (jujutsu kaisen) x f! reader // fluff oneshot //
words : 1.5k // masterlist
requested by @feat-sun
hey there sunny! i sincerely hope this is upto your expectations and that you like this little oneshot which I wrote (I'm sorry that it's rather short) yuji is such a walking green flag and it was so fun to write him 😭🩷 also let's pretend that sukuna is prolly hibernating inside yuji's brain (coz i didn't know how to add his snarky remarks in the fic 🥲) also, hope it's to your liking <3
"yuji~" a small pout graced your features as you laid your head on yuji's shoulder while he gamed, too oblivious to your pout and desperation.
you just wanted cuddles and he wasn't giving you any, you understood he couldn't just turn the game off and spoil you and you didn't want to seem like someone who would deprive her boyfriend of games but you were feeling clingy and yuji not paying attention to you did slightly hurt a little.
"yuji," you reluctantly whispered in his ears as your boyfriend just hummed, "y/n, give me like fifteen minutes please, todo and I are nearly going to wipe this round off!" he announced, burying himself deeper in his video game as you pulled away from him.
you could vaguely hear todo's voice asking yuji if he can still play the round and your boyfriend immediately said a yes with so much hype that it almost made your pouty mood foul.
you realised you weren't gonna get any attention from him, so you switched to the next best thing, megumi.
you got up from your boyfriend's side and went over to megumi's room, who looked at you lazily and allowed you to come in.
"itadori annoyed you?" megumi asked as he passed you a can of coke which you happily took.
"precisely. i don't really think it's his fault though, maybe I'm just being clingy and desperate," you groaned, sipping your drink as you settled yourself on fushiguro's bed who scowled at you as he had just made his bed.
"it's not bad to want your partner's attention," megumi muttered.
"but atleast lay down like a person, not an animal," he smacked your leg as he sat on his bed's edge, thinking about how to retain his peace back and help you without offending you.
"not my fault that you're grumpy, grandpa," you muttered, nudging fushiguro with your toe as he sighed in exasperation.
and then something clicked in his brain,
"hey, you had a crush on inumaki, right?"
"mhm yes."
"how did you go from inumaki to itadori is beyond me, but why don't you hang out with him?"
"inumaki?" you asked, your eyebrows quirking up.
"yeah, you used to like him so maybe you won't leech off attention from him," he rolled his eyes as a grin embarked on your face.
maybe megumi didn't mean that it will help making yuji jealous but that's what you thought.
you suddenly got up from his bed and left the can on his bedside as megumi called after you, while you just grinned in his direction and saluted him before taking your leave.
"did i accidentally do something?" megumi whispered to him himself as he smacked his head on the bed.
you rushed towards inumaki's room, a small smile on your face as you knocked on his door.
"good morning inumaki!" you greeted as inumaki's eyes turned into crescents on your arrival.
"kelp." (greetings)
"well, yuji is busy, so i was just wondering if you would you know... like to go to the market with me? i was thinking to buy some clothes and accessories," you said, a bashful smile on your face.
"tuna mayo?" (me?)
"yes!"
"tuna tuna" (do you really trust my skills?)
"i do, and it will be more fun if I have someone with me, so please?" you asked, trying your best to seem convincing as inumaki sighed, a small smile evident on his face as he replied, "salmon." (okay)
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as much as fun you were having with inumaki, it was better posting every picture you took with him on social media; a picture where you both are grinning next to each other, another where you dressed inumaki up with jewelries and a girlish hat, another where you both hid your faces beneath ridiculous masks and another which you took next to beach and the best of all, you captioned the post with "a platonic date" and inumaki commented with red hearts on it.
now amidst the outing, inumaki had himself understood the meaning behind your actions, but you were really so sweet to be around that he didn't say anything, well why should he when he was having so much fun too?
"thankyou so much, leaving my intentions aside, i really did enjoy the outing," you grinned at inumaki as he smiled at you slightly. his eyes looked away from yours to the scenery as he said, "oh salmon cod roe." (hey look here)
you whipped your head around to where inumaki was pointing and it was the prettiest sunset you had seen, pinkish sky with hues of blue still lingering, clouds framed the sun as slight wind blew on the beach, you grinned and clicked a picture of it, and then a picture of inumaki with the sunset, and then posted it too.
"salmon tuna mayo kelp roe cod," (you're really going after yuji, aren't you? even he will get jealous of that.)
"I am," you affirmed as you chuckled, a small smile on your face as you found yourself lucky for having such great friends.
"thankyou so much."
"mustard leaf." (it's okay)
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now when you had returned, maki had called inumaki over for some second year discussion and your eyes fell upon megumi and then on yuji who was talking to gojo behind megumi.
another wild thought crept up to your mind as you rushed towards megumi to give him a giant bear hug almost making the poor guy fall, but as cold as megumi was he was still very tolerant of you and he still reciprocated the hug.
you could feel yuji's eyes boring into you and you could see gojo's lips quirking up as he understood just what was going on.
"thanks for the drink today megumi," you gushed as fushiguro slightly patted your head.
as soon as you pulled away from megumi you eyes landed on another pair of kind brown ones, his face contorted in a frown as he looked away from you, you giggled as gojo whistled, "I think there's some talking due here so~"
he pulled both you and itadori together as yuji whined for being dragged.
"nu-uh you both are gonna talk and we," he pointed towards himself and megumi, "are gonna leave."
he pushed you both in a room and closed the doors (he didn't lock them) as yuji groaned and looked at you, "what was that for y/n?" he asked, a pout etching it's way on his face again as a small smile quirked up on your lips.
"what do you mean, yuji?"
"baby~" he whined, looking away from you, "you know what I mean..." he fiddled with his fingers as he looked down at the floor, "you know... you going on a date with inumaki..."
"but that didn't mean anything," your heartstrings pulled at you as despite your plan you rushed towards him, your hands snaking around his waist as you rested your cheek on his back.
"i don't know, you both looked pretty happy, and you were gone for practically the whole day," yuji murmured, his hands coming to rest on yours as he leaned his head back on yours.
"yuji," you laughed at his whines as his pouts became more prominent and he pulled you in front of him from his back, your eyes widened slightly as you momentarily stopped laughing from the pleasant shock.
yuji's hand rested on your shoulders as his eyebrows were furrowed, you don't think you have seen him look this adorable before.
"you shouldn't laugh on that!" he whined, a deeper frown on his face as his eyes sincerely looked sad. "i came to find you in fushiguro's room and then he told me that you were out with inumaki, you didn't even inform me by yourself."
your smile dwindled as you lean forward, letting your lips rest on his as you kissed him softly, you could feel yuji's hold relax on you as he pulled you in a hug, pulling you closer to him.
"sorry for making you feel bad, yuji."
you both pulled away as your noses still touched, both of you red with slight embarrassment and proximity, and both immediately realising that you just had your first kiss with itadori!
"sorry for ignoring you earlier, baby," he muttered against your lips as he looked at your eyes for any signs of discomfort from the kiss, but all he saw was your radiant and bashful smile as his heart started beating miles faster.
"y/n, baby..." he murmured as you hummed cooly, "yes?" his hands rested on your waist as he leaned his forehead to touch yours, his ears red as he still looked into your eyes.
"can i kiss you again?"
you grinned, rubbing your noses together you said, "yes."
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heeology · 9 months
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god, you're annoying | l.hs
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synopsis → ever since you and heeseung have come into each others' lives, he has been asking you out and flirting with you nonstop. for years, the cycle of him confessing his feelings to you and you rejecting every single one of his advances seems as though it has gone on forever. being fed up, you develop a plan to pretend as though you already have a boyfriend (spoiler alert: it doesn’t end well). after years of continuously trying to get heeseung off of your radar, you just can’t seem to get rid of him and suddenly (to your surprise), you find yourself not being bothered as much by his presence.
feat. → yeonjun (txt), yunjin (le sserafim), beomgyu (txt), minjeong (aespa), jake (enhypen), sunghoon (enhypen), jay (enhypen)
genre → university AU, enemies to lovers, romance, smut
pairing → nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings → MDNI, kinda long but bear w me pls
w.c. → 9k
disclaimer!! → any other idols mentioned in this story (that I portray are dating) i do not ship irl; this story is a work of fiction a.k.a. something derived from my delusions and imagination, take this story lightly pls and thx.
!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!
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Everyday you walk onto campus and make sure you avoid eye contact with a “certain someone” and even though the outcome always remains the same, you still hope that one day it will actually make a difference. Unfortunately for you, on your campus, there is only one way to get to your morning class which makes this “certain someone” rather happy to know that you practically have to see him everyday. Although you try your best, he never fails to call out your name, even if you try hiding behind other people; he can spot you from a mile away. This, you find to be annoying. He, however, looks forward to this moment every day because what other reason is there to get up early in the morning if it means he doesn’t get to see you?
You hear him call after you as you try to quickly make your way to your first class which, luckily for you, does not include him. You can hear his footsteps hurrying towards you making you break out into a light jog to your classroom door that is just ahead. You reach for the door handle and open it just enough to let yourself in and as you are about to close it behind you, a hand from the other side stops you, forcing it back open enough for you to be face-to-face with the one and only bane of your existence: Lee Heeseung.
He gives you a cocky smile receiving an eye roll from you as you can already hear his irritating voice begin to say a bunch of sentences and words that you couldn’t care any less about because you couldn’t care any less about him. Heeseung is fully aware about how you feel about him and although some most of his actions are–-yes, he’ll admit–-advertently creepy, he means no harm. You, of course, don’t see it that way, but that doesn’t stop him. 
“You didn’t hear me calling your name?” he asks, knowing that you did and also knowing that you ignored him, but he just wants to hear any snarky reply you have because that’s the only time when you actually acknowledge his presence. 
“Nope, must’ve missed it.” you say in a fake sympathetic tone. 
He lets out a “hmm” and you mock him. He smirks, leaning a little closer to you. You would move away, but then you figured he might take that as his chance to open the door more, so you decide to stay put. 
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me. There is this restaurant that my family and I only go to on special occasions and I think you’ll really like it.”
There it is, him asking you to the same stupid restaurant that you have said no to many (and you mean many) times before. You know what restaurant he is talking about, some way overpriced place that only really rich people go to. You clenched your jaw as your hand gripped the edge of the door a little tighter. He smiled at you, which you thought was him being smug, but rather it was him anticipating your answer. He meant what he said and he just wants to be given a chance to show you how much he likes you. 
Him asking you out to this restaurant, always offering to buy your lunch, pay for your snacks, or buy you some other object just felt as him rubbing his money in your face, making all of his attempts seem as though they are a joke; that you are a joke. Ever since middle school, when you and Heeseung had first met, he made his “crush” on you apparent, which all of the other kids found to be funny and ridiculous. You know he doesn’t actually like you and you hate him for still acting like this even though you both are now grown adults and not eleven year old children who still ride in the car with their parent on their way to school everyday. 
“Well, if you think I’ll like it, then I’ll surely hate it.” you reply.
“You’re only saying that be-”
“No, Heeseung, I will not go out with you and for the last time: stop bothering me.” you say sternly.
You scowl at him and he can’t help but find you to be adorable. He knows you’re annoyed by him, but there isn’t anyone else he would rather spend his time with other than you, even if his only way to spend time with you is by pestering you constantly. 
“I’m just going to ask you again tomorrow.” he says with a smile.
You knew he wasn’t joking about that and that made your blood begin to boil. You hated having to be bothered by him, you hated feeling like a joke, you hated seeing his stupid face everyday, and you hated how it seems like he doesn't even care. You have to put a stop to this, you simply can’t take it anymore. But how? You’ve tried everything, what other way could there possibly be? Then it clicked. You stood up straighter, looking him directly in his eyes. He found himself a little taken aback by your sudden eye contact, but didn’t want to show it; to show how you make him flustered and blush just by simply looking at him.
“Heeseung, I have a boyfriend.” you say, trying not to smile.
You don’t know how you didn’t think of this before, but you’re overjoyed that the idea finally came. His smile drops–for a split second–as he felt the wind practically get knocked out of him like someone had just suckerpunched him in the gut. You were bluffing, you had to be…right?
“Pfft, I don’t believe you.” he says, letting go of the door, only to cross his arms and lean against the doorframe.
You feel your face become hot as you stand your ground, “And what exactly makes you say that?”
“I’ve never seen you with your “boyfriend”.” he says, making air quotes.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”
“Well it surely doesn’t mean that you do.”
“I know you stalk me because you have nothing better to do with your life, but that doesn’t mean you know what I do every second of the day.”
He shrugs his shoulders, not buying a word that you are saying. He keeps telling himself that you are lying, but what if that small percentage of possibility actually means you are telling the truth? He doesn’t want to think about that, he has to believe that you are lying.
“Okay, what’s his name, then?” he asks, confident that you won’t have an answer.
Shit. How do you answer that? You try not to show your worry in your expression and quickly try to come up with an answer. You open your mouth to speak, hoping the words that do end up coming out make sense.
“Yeonjun.” you reply.
Well, you said a name and that’s all that counts. Sure, it’s the name of your best friend’s boyfriend, but she won’t mind if you use him for a lie…right? Now it’s Heeseung’s turn for him to clench his jaw. He scoffs, rolling his eyes before looking back at you.
“Then how come I’ve never seen you with him on campus?”
“Because he goes to another school, idiot.”
“How did you two meet?”
“Through my best friend; they go to school together.”
You could see him become more annoyed with your answers as you tried to say them with as much confidence as possible. 
“I still don’t believe you.” he says, less certain of what he is saying than before.
You’re so close and you know it, you just need to say something that will make him back-off once and for all.
“I’ll have him bring me to school tomorrow.” you said, now being the one to cross your arms as you smiled smugly.
Heeseung felt his blood run cold, terror now coursing through his veins. Were you actually telling the truth? He didn’t want to see you with some other guy, most definitely not someone who you are claiming to be your boyfriend. The thought made him both upset and annoyed. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s the one who has been trying to show how much he likes you for years now and some rando comes in and sweeps you off of your feet? Over his dead body.
“Okay,” he says while standing up from leaning on the door, “I can’t wait to see you and a bunch of air walk into school tomorrow.”
“You still think I’m lying?”
He shrugs his shoulders, looking away before looking back at you.
“I just find it hard to believe.”
“That I have a boyfriend?”
“You could say that.”
Man, you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong (even though he is technically right). You fake laugh at his reply and stop as you grab his hand. He feels butterflies erupt in his stomach from your sudden contact and is so distracted that he isn’t even paying attention to what you are doing, which is putting his hand on the door frame. You plaster on a fake smile before quickly swinging the door shut. He snaps out of his daze and moves his hand out of the way just in time before it could have been smashed by the door. 
-
Beomgyu didn’t think to even hold back his laughter once the words left your mouth and although the music in the club was blaring through the speakers, you could still hear his piercing voice. The others, however, were a little more surprised to hear what you had said, especially Yunjin and Yeonjun. You had a guilty smile on your face as you exchanged glances between the two and then Yeonjun scoffed. He raised his glass in a ‘cheers’ manner and Yunjin slapped his shoulder.
“It’s honestly not that bad of a plan,” Minjeong says, trying to defuse the tension, “Yunjin, you know better than any of us here how badly this guy bothers her.”
Yunjin sighs before she chugs the rest of her drink from her cup. “You can borrow my boyfriend on one condition: it doesn’t go too far.” She says, pointing between you and Yeonjun. 
You both look at each other and cringe. Yeonjun puts his arm around Yunjin and she smiles. He kisses her temple, “As if that would ever happen.”
“So how exactly are you going to convince him?” Yunjin asks.
You chug the rest of your drink, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat. “Is it cool if Yeonjun takes me to school tomorrow? I was thinking all he has to do is walk me to my class and just essentially tell Heeseung to back off.”
“He’s not going to do it unless he believes it.” Beomgyu points out as he leans back into the booth.
“He’s right, him walking you into school isn’t going to be enough to convince him; he sounds persistent.” Minjeong agrees.
“The most he is allowed to do is kiss you on the cheek to make it believable, but that’s it.” Yunjin says looking at Yeonjun to make sure he understands.
“I don’t get a say in whether or not I agree to this?” Yeonjun asks, looking at everyone, but landing on you.
“No.” the rest of you say in unison.
He laughs before finishing his drink. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”
-
Even as Yeonjun pulls his motorcycle to a stop in front of your campus, he can still feel your fingernails practically digging into his stomach. 
He lifts up the visor on his helmet, “Can you please stop trying to claw your way into my intestines?”
You let go of him all together and he lets out the breath that he has been holding in. 
“Sorry.” you say, it sounding muffled under the helmet. He smiles, taking off his helmet after getting off the bike. He sets his helmet down and holds out his hand for you to take. You take it, him helping you off, before he helps you take off the helmet. “Thanks.” you say and he shrugs his shoulders as a reply. 
He glances over his shoulder, noticing people looking at him and you, whispering. “So, which one is the stalker?” he asks, trying to be discreet.
You turn your head to look, not seeing Heeseung anywhere, oddly enough. You scoff, “The one day he isn’t here is the day that you bring me.” you roll your eyes and Yeonjun shrugs.
“Well, see you later.”
“Woah-wait. I still need you to walk me.” you say, grabbing one of his shoulders to stop him from leaving.
“What? Why? You just said he isn’t here.”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t need reinforcements.”
Yeonjun groans, but turns back around to face your campus. You clear your throat before reaching to hold his hand. You intertwine your fingers, looking at each other through the corners of your eyes, confirming that you’re ready to go. You walk hesitantly at first, but the further you get, Yeonjun releases his hand from yours to put his arm around you. Low and behold, once you made your way to the front of your class, Heeseung was there waiting right beside the door.
He, of course, hadn’t been there the whole time. He was pacing back and forth in the bathroom before working up the courage to actually make his way to your class, a part of him hoping he had just missed you so he wouldn’t actually have to see you with someone else. Yet there you are, walking up to him (well, your class), with some dude who looked like he was trying too hard to be cool with his arm around you. He felt sick and the closer you came, the more he felt like vomiting. 
You smiled, stopping in front of your class door with Yeonjun. 
“Oh Heeseung, you’re actually here, I thought you chickened out.”
He smiles, annoyed. His gaze shifts over to Yeonjun and Yeonjun smirks.
“So this is Heeseung?” He asks, eyeing him up and down.
Heeseung pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek. He looks back at Yeonjun and eyes him up and down before crossing his arms. Although he currently feels sick to his stomach, he’s still a little suspicious. 
“Am I supposed to believe you’re her boyfriend?”
Yeonjun scoffs, crossing his arms, “You can believe what you want,” he steps closer to Heeseung, leaning close to his ear making Heeseung tense up, “but you better stop messing with her regardless.”
He pulls back, smiling at Heeseung and patting one of his shoulders. Heeseung scowls, wiping off his shoulder as Yeonjun turns to you. You smile at him, ignoring Heeseungs glares.
“Have a good day, babe.” he says before kissing you on your cheek. He glances back over his shoulder before snickering at Heeseung and walking away.
You smile proudly at Heeseung while he looks at you in complete and utter shock. Did he just see what he think he just saw? He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to believe it. 
“Well,” you say, making him snap out of his thoughts, “you heard him: stop bothering me.” you say before going into your class.
-
“I heard from some people that he has a motorcycle and he brought her on it today.” Jake says while taking some food off of Sunghoon’s tray, earning a glare from him.
Heeseung rolls his eyes, clenching his fork harder in his hand. “I don’t get it, he’s not even her type.”
Sunghoon laughs and Heeseung scowls at him. “How would you know? You’re not exactly close with her.”
“I think it’s time for you to just leave her alone, you’ve been bugging her since we were kids.” Jay comments.
Heeseung goes quiet. Should he give up? He reminisces about the time he first saw you, laughing with your friend, and the only thing he could think about was how pretty you look when you smile. He isn’t the type to hide how he feels and he thought you would be pleasantly surprised by how open he is about how he feels about you, but when you rejected him after he bought you your favorite drink, he was confused. He didn’t want to give up, though, because all he wanted was to be able to make you laugh just like when he first saw you.
“Jay’s right, the joke has gone on for long enough.” Jake adds.
Heeseung looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Joke? What are you talking about?”
Before Jake can answer, a girl walks up and takes a seat in one of the open chairs at the table. Everyone’s eyes go to her as she smiles.
“Hi,” she says shyly, “Heeseung, can I speak with you privately?”
“No, thanks.” he replies, continuing to eat his food.
Jake tries to suppress his laugh and Jay kicks him from under the table. Jake’s smile falls as he kicks Jay back.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Jay warns.
“You started it.” Jake mumbles.
“Well, I was just wondering,” everyone looks back at the girl, momentarily forgetting she was even there, “if you would like to get coffee with me after school.” she says, moving some of her hair behind her ear.
“No, thanks.” Heeseung says in the same uninterested tone as before, not bothering to spare her another glance as he continues eating.
She sits there, a little taken aback as an awkward silence settles. Sunghoon clears his throat before taking another bite of his food. The girl stands up and walks away, not bothering to push back in the chair; Jay and Jake watch her as she leaves.
“She was cute, why did you say no?” Jake asks.
“We know why.” Jay says, drinking some of his water.
“You’ve been turning down every girl that asks you out for years, don’t you want to at least try and date someone?” Jake asks.
Heeseung groans and sets down his fork. “What’s the point? No one else is worth the time.”
-
“You all should have seen his face.” Yeonjun beams as you and your friend group continue roaming throughout the mall.
“So, it worked?” Minjeong questioned and you nodded your head happily.
“I didn’t see him for the rest of the day and he didn’t say anything else once Yeonjun left.” you replied happily.
“And there was nothing more than a kiss on the cheek?” Yunjin questioned.
“Of course.” Yeonjun says, kissing her quickly.
You and the others groan as they both just smile at each other. 
“Oh!” Minjeong says, grabbing your hand. You look at her and then the store she was looking at, “They finally restocked the perfume I was telling you about.”
“I can’t afford that.”
She rolls her eyes, “You can’t, but I can, now come on.” she says, pulling you with her.
“I’d rather not be stuck with you two sickos, so I’m going to go with them.” Beomgyu states to Yunjin and Yeonjun before heading off to follow you and Minjeong. 
Yeonjun grimaces and mocks Beomgyu as he walks off and Yunjin laughs.
As much as Heeseung would rather have gone home straight after classes than come to the mall to help Jake pick out a new keyboard, he came anyway due to his friend’s consistent pestering. 
“You’re paying me back for gas money, I hope you know that.” Heeseung mumbles.
Jake scoffs, “You’re richer than I am, besides, friends carpool other friends.” Heeseung rolls his eyes as he and Jake make their way to the store. Heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but is caught off guard by loud giggling coming across from where he and Jake are. Both of them look in the direction of where the noise is coming from to see Yeonjun and Yunjin laughing, her hitting his shoulder playfully and him scattering kisses on her face. Heeseung stops dead in his tracks. Jake stops walking and looks between Heeseung and the couple. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
Heeseung could feel anger surging through his body. Isn’t that guy your boyfriend? Why was he so publicly flirting with this other girl? Is he cheating on you? Unknown to him, Heeseung was walking towards the two, blinded by rage. Jake tries to call after him, but it just sounded like static to Heeseung. Jake rushes to catch up to him, trying to figure out what he was going to do and why he was even doing something in the first place. Heeseung stands in front of Yeonjun, making both Yeonjun and Yunjin turn their attention towards him.
“Shit.” Yeonjun mumbles.
Heeseung didn’t have the patience to ask any questions, he knew he was right in the first place. This guy had some nerve to hurt you like this, so before anyone had another chance to say a word, Heeseung clenched his hand into a fist and punched Yeonjun in the face.
“What the hell!?” Yunjin exclaims, grabbing onto Yeonjun’s arm as he falls to the ground.
Heeseung didn’t pay any attention to the throbbing pain from his hand and raises his fist to punch him again, but Jake stops him. Yeonjun touches his face, blood dripping from his nose as he looks up at Heeseung, clenching his jaw in anger.
“You son of a b-”
“Don’t start with that, you’re the one cheating.”
Yunjin scoffs and stands up to slap Heeseung. “You have some nerve to punch my boyfriend, asshole.”
“What the hell is going on?” Beomgyu questions as you, him, and Minjeong come out from the store.
You look around to see the chaos that has ensued as well as people starting to crowd around all of you.
“This idiot punched my boyfriend because he thinks he’s cheating on you.” Yunjin says shooting you a glare as she helps Yeonjun off of the floor.
“You did what?” you turn to Heeseung.
“Isn’t he your boyfriend? Why aren’t you upset that he’s cheating on you?” Heeseung asks, confused and starting to feel the pain from his hand as the adrenaline and anger start to subside.
You open your mouth to say something, but Yunjin interrupts you. “Maybe because he isn’t actually her boyfriend.”
Heeseung looks between you and her, confused.
“Bu-”
“They only pretended to be dating because she wanted you to back off.” Yunjin seethed.
Heeseung wasn’t sure how to process all of this information, let alone, he wasn’t even sure if he was.
“Yunjin-” you try to apologize, but she pushes past you with Yeonjun. You try to grab her hand, but she pulls away and turns to you.
“It went too far.” she says, trying to control her temper before turning around to walk away with Yeonjun.
You turn to look at Minjeong and Beomgyu, but they both just look at each other awkwardly. 
“We should probably go with them.” Beomgyu says.
Minjeong nods her head, agreeing, but before they both walk past you, she stops, “I’m sure if you try talking to her tomorrow, she’ll forgive you.”
You bite the inner part of your cheek as they walk away. The crowd starts to disperse, still earning a few questioning glances from those passing by. You glare at Heeseung and begin to walk away.
“Look, I didn’t-” he tries to explain, but you cut him off by turning around, now face-to-face with him.
Tears sting as they begin to brim your eyes. There are so many things you could say to him right now, so many things to yell, but for once you find yourself to be at a loss. He too, is also at a loss for words. Seeing you look at him this way, tears in your eyes, he feels so ashamed and embarrassed. 
“Just leave me alone.” you say through shallow breaths, trying your hardest not to cry in front of him.
You knew to him this was all some sick joke, so you doubt he would actually listen to you, but you hoped there was some small part of him that would finally see you never found any of this to be funny and that he has finally taken it too far.
-
You have never dreaded walking to your class this morning more than you do at this very moment; you just don’t have the energy to put up with Heeseung now or even ever again. You tried texting Yunjin, but she never replied let alone even opened the messages. You were so wrapped up in your emotions you didn’t even realize you made it to your class in peace. Relieved was an understatement about how you were currently feeling, but you also felt oddly sick. 
Although you didn’t want him bothering you, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the fact that he didn’t even try to apologize once while you were on your way to class. It was the least he could do, afterall. He pretty much destroyed your friendships with your closest friends and now that he’s had his fun, he no longer felt the need to keep up the act? The more you thought about it, the more angry you became. You knew you hated him before, but you’ve never been this furious with him, not even at his attempts to rub his wealth in your face by buying you things. No, this was a new low, even for him, but you keep trying to tell yourself you should’ve seen it coming.
-
“Oh hell no.” Yunjin mumbles before standing up from the steps she and the others were sitting on. Heeseung approaches cautiously as he feels their eyes burning into him with their intensive stares. “You really are a stalker, how did you even know what university I go to?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 
“It’s in our high school yearbooks, everyone put where they were going.” he replied. Yunjin scowls, hoping he would get the idea and leave once and for all. “I came to apologize. I just-” he pauses, looking away while clenching his jaw before looking back at them. “I’m sorry I punched you.” he says to Yeonjun. 
Yeonjun looks at him, unimpressed. 
“You suck at apologizing.” Yunjin states.
“I thought he was cheating! I didn’t know-” he groans, becoming frustrated. He tries to calm down, running his hand through his hair before speaking again. “All I want to say is that I really am sorry, I was just trying to look out for your friend, okay? She deserves better and when I saw who I thought was her boyfriend kissing someone else, I just…handled things poorly.”
Yeonjun gets up to stand next to Yunjin, draping his arm around her shoulders. “I get it, you didn’t know.”
Yunjin scoffs, “You’ve officially taken this joke of yours too far, so stop acting like you care about her and just admit it already.”
“Why does everyone think I’m joking?” he asks, both frustrated and genuinely.
“Everyone in school knew you were joking. I thought you took it too far back when you bought her a pair of some new, expensive shoes.”
Is that really how everyone saw it? Is that really how you see it?
“I bought her the shoes because she had her old ones for years and had bandaids for the blisters she was clearly getting. I also bought her extra bandages, did you forget about that?”
Yunjin stops scowling, “So you aren’t just messing with her because she rejected you?”
“Of course not, I really care about her. I know I annoy her, but I never thought she would think I was doing all of this just to hurt her feelings.”
Yunjin stands there for a second, questioning whether or not she believes him. 
“You’re right,” she starts, making eye contact with Heeseung, “she deserves the best.” It falls quiet again for a moment, mainly because Yunjin is wondering whether or not she wants to give him a chance to prove himself to you. “We’re going to meet at the club downtown around ten, if you really mean what you say, you should come.”
Heeseung stands there, stunned. Does this mean she believes him? Does this mean they all believe him? Does this mean you’ll believe him? As they walk away from the steps, they all look at him, but not the same way they did when he first came over; skeptical. They all looked at him like they wanted what he said to be true and tonight is the night he is going to prove it.
-
You walked into the club, anxious, yet grateful that Yunjin finally responded to one of your messages. You wanted tonight to be like any other night that you all hang out here, like everything was back to normal; like it was before the whole debacle with Heeseung at the mall. You made your way past the crowds of people through the darkly lit club, over to the booth you all usually sit at. 
“Hey.” you say, trying not to sound awkward.
Yunjin sheepishly smiles, “Hey.” she says.
“Are you guys going to kiss and make up now?” Beomgyu asks, honestly over all of the drama.
Everyone laughs and Minjeong hands you your usual drink as you all make your way to the dance floor. From there, you move your body to the music, just wanting to let go of all the stress you’ve been under lately. Dancing along with your friends, having a good time, is all you care about at this very moment. You were enjoying yourself, feeling confident in the outfit you chose to wear paired along with the light buzz from the alcohol you were drinking. You closed your eyes as you soaked it all in; it felt like nothing could disrupt this feeling.
“Wow…” you hear someone say before they trail off.
You open your eyes and freeze. You know this voice a little all-too-well. Your grip on the glass you are holding in your hand becomes tighter as you slowly turn towards the person who was speaking. Your eyes lock with Heeseungs as he looks at you in awe. You look stunning and he felt like all of the air from his lungs had escaped the second he saw you; breathless. You walk closer to him, so he wouldn’t get any crazy ideas and try to do something else to your friends, but as you got closer to him you couldn’t help but think about how nice he smells. You shake the thought from your head as you look up at him, your eyes meeting once again. 
All thoughts you previously had were now gone; he made your mind go blank. Have his eyes always been this pretty? No…what the hell are you thinking? Pull yourself together.
“Do you take nothing I say seriously?” you manage to blurt out.
He smiles, happy that you’re talking to him (and just because he’s happy to see you in general).
“For all the years you’ve known me, you should know better than anyone else that I can’t stay away from you.” he replies before smirking.
That smug attitude thankfully snapped you out of whatever weird thoughts you were having earlier and brought you back to reality: he’s a prick. You roll your eyes and push yourself past him as you head to the bar to return your glass. You set the glass down a little harsher than you anticipated and Heeseung follows you as you make your way out of the club. He calls after you, but you ignore him. Nothing is going to change, apparently. But as you’ve said to yourself before: you really shouldn’t be surprised.
Heeseung stops calling after you and instead catches up to you, grabbing your hand gently so you would stop walking away from him. You turn to face him, looking down at your hands for a split second, feeling a different kind of buzz result from it. You try to shake his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. You meet his eyes, feeling your heart begin to race. As much as you tried to stop, something was happening, and you were certainly not a huge fan. 
“I spoke with your friends earlier and apologized.”
He did what? Wait…have you been hallucinating this whole time? That would explain why you suddenly feel this way because you know, not in any lifetime, would you possibly have feelings for Lee Heeseung. 
“How?” is all you could manage to say. 
Your mind was running a thousand miles a minute, not really in any shape to hold any kind of conversation, but especially not one with Heeseung.
“I made a mistake. I have a lot of things I want to apologize to you for.”
He spoke so gently and sweetly; it was like he was hypnotizing you. The streets were oddly quiet, not too many people, but you could still hear the music from the club. You found yourself staring at him in amazement. The fluorescent lights from the signs of stores nearby and the streetlights felt as though they were shining on the both of you, like you two were the only people who matter.
“What?” is all you can think to say.
“I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you to the point where you felt like you had no other choice but to lie.” he says, taking a step closer to you. “I’m sorry I made you and your friend fight.” he takes another step closer to you. You felt your breath hitch as your eyes traveled along his figure. Has he always looked this good in a black button up and black pants? It doesn’t help that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you find yourself staring at his arms.
He waits for you. He waits for you while he clearly sees you checking him out and it’s turning him on. God, you look so beautiful and the way you are looking at him, slowly taking in everything about him as if you are seeing him for the first time makes him want to kiss you; it makes him want to do a lot more. When your eyes meet his again, he takes this as an opportunity to step closer to you, placing his other hand on your cheek, gently cupping your face. He wants to be gentle because you are one of the most precious things to him. He leans close to your face, each others’ breath scattering lightly along one anothers face. 
“And I’m sorry,” he whispers as he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek, still looking into your eyes, “for making you feel like a joke.”
You feel yourself tense up. “Was it? All a joke…” you trail off, not necessarily sure what you want to happen next.
He continues looking into your eyes, never looking away because he wants you to know that he is being serious; that he means every word he says.
“Not for a second.” he replies.
You think back to everything he has done for you in a new perspective. How he would leave your favorite snack on your desk on test days, notes telling you how well you did after a presentation, volunteering to be your partner because he didn’t want you to feel alone or left out, buying you your favorite drink if you forgot to bring money for it, and asking you out to a restaurant that holds a special meaning to him and he only wants to share it with you. 
You want to kiss him, but you find yourself pulling away instead. He looks at you, confused, as you separate yourself from him, letting go of his hand. 
“I should get home. You know how early my morning class is.” you say while looking at the ground.
“Are you walking home? This late?”
You step back a little bit, finally looking back at him and you smile nervously. “I usually take the bus, but I think I missed the last one, so yeah, I guess I am.” you say kind of bunched together. Are you nervous?
“I can just drive you home.” he says, not really offering, more like telling.
You shake your head as your eyes shift to one of the cars in front of the club. You recognized it as his since he drives it to school everyday. A small, small part of you would love to ride in it, but you can walk home yourself (even if you also know it’s a bad idea).
“Yeah, I’m not letting you walk home alone this late.” he says, no longer wondering why you pulled away from him, but more concerned for your safety. He reaches for your hand and you let him take it, even if you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. You both walk over to his car and he opens the door for you to get in. You look at him and he looks back at you, not intending on budging from his offer. You roll your eyes playfully as you get into the car. He closes the door and walks over to get into the driver's seat. He gets in and closes the door before starting his engine. You sit there, a little surprised you were even in his car in the first place. “You kind of need to put on your seatbelt.” he says, nodding his head towards the seatbelt that you left untouched. 
You laugh nervously, but for some reason, you still don’t think to move to put it on. He sighs, smiling to himself at your cuteness, before leaning over to grab the seatbelt, slowly extending it over your body before clicking it into place. He looks at you, your faces inches apart, and you feel your breathing quicken once again. His heart begins to beat faster, but he can’t stop looking at you; you’re stunning. He manages to pull himself away, worried he might make you feel uncomfortable, before putting on his own seatbelt and putting the car in drive. 
“Do you want to tell me how to get to your house?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking spot.
Your eyes widen. Right, your house. A house that--you assume--is nowhere near as nice as his house. What if once he sees just how different you two are he will stop liking you? What if he was lying before and this was his final cruel attempt to make fun of you? You shake your head.
“I would rather not tell you.”
He steps on the brake, turning his head to look at you.
“You…don’t want to tell me?”
You shake your head, hoping he’ll give up and let you out of the car. You hear him let out a tut, making you turn your head to look at him.
“Would you rather I take you to my place?” he asks, trying not to sound nervous.
Not particularly, you kind of already planned on going to bed once you got back home, but you stayed quiet, leaving him to answer his own question. He sighs, releasing his foot off the brake.
-
Heeseung pulls up to a gate that guards a huge house behind it. Your mouth falls a little agape as you look at it, thinking about how the driveway is the size of your own home. He puts in the code, opening the gate, and driving up the huge driveway. He parks the car and turns off the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt before looking at you. 
“Do you need me to unbuckle it for you?” he asks while smirking.
You kind of want him to, but you opt for doing it yourself. You both get out of the car and he waits for you before he begins to lead the way. You can’t stop looking around as you two walk up the stairs leading to the (in your opinion) oversized doors, to which he opens and lets you walk in first. The house is even more luxurious on the inside than it is on the outside, which you honestly didn’t think could be possible. He shuts the door behind him and you both take off your shoes. You feel out of place, starting to feel insecure. The guy with all of this money to have this grand living room with a huge television, windows covering the walls and expensive furniture littered everywhere claims to like you? And has for years? You were starting to find it hard to believe again. 
“I hope this is okay.” he says, breaking the silence. 
You weren’t sure what he meant, but you assume he’s hoping it’s okay that he brought you here. He starts heading for the staircase and you follow behind, still taking in your surroundings. He leads you to his room, and you decide to stand by the doorframe. To you, it doesn’t seem like the downstairs even needs a living room since he already has a couch and t.v. in his room along with a big bed laying on a platform and more windows for walls. A beep is heard and the curtains for his windows start automatically covering them and the two lamps on his bedside tables turn on. He looks back at you, smiling at your expression that he finds to be adorable. 
“You can come in, you know.” he says as he rummages through some drawers.
You hesitantly walk into his room, somehow just noticing how nice it smells, and find the confidence to walk up the few steps to his bed to take a seat. You turn your head to look around some more and Heeseung looks up, stopping what he is doing upon seeing you on his bed. You are on his bed. Is he dreaming? He honestly never thought this day would come and he clears his throat to try and calm his nerves, making you look at him.
“What are you doing?” you finally ask.
He grabs what he came in for and walks over to you holding out the clothes he picked himself.
“The guest rooms don’t have any clothes in them, so you can borrow mine.”
Did he just say “rooms” as in plural, like multiple? 
“Right, naturally.” you tease.
He smiles and you stand to grab the clothes from him. You hold them as you look up at him, once again meeting his eyes. That feeling starts to form again, the one where you don’t want to stop looking at him and certainly don’t want him to stop looking at you.
“I forgive you.” you whisper.
He looks confused for a second before he understands what you mean. He smiles.
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” 
You aren’t sure if it’s the atmosphere, the way he smells, the way he’s looking at you, or all three combined, but before you can even process what you are doing, you are tossing the clothes he handed you onto the floor and pulling him by the collar to kiss you.
Holy. Shit. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him. One of your hands moves to hold the side of his neck while the other moves to the back of his hair as you start running your fingers through it, gripping it here and there. He moves his hands to hold your waist, squeezing them lightly from anticipation, as he kisses you back. He gains more confidence, pulling you as closely as possible to him, as he deepens the kiss. He is desperate for you, he is desperate to show you how he feels. He lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist, him carefully carrying you and placing you onto his bed. He lays you down as you two continue to kiss, him pulling away from your lips and beginning to leave a trail of light, breathy, kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. Your chest raises from the deep breath you take and he swears he is going to lose his mind from looking at you in your current state. The state he is currently leaving you in. 
His hands roam your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.
“Heeseung…” you say breathlessly, practically sending him over the edge.
He can feel his erection growing and you saying his name like that makes his cock ache harder. He pulls away from leaving hickeys along your chest, pulling you up by the waist so he can lift your dress off of you. He pulls it over your head and you help him, throwing the dress off to the side. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to calm his breathing and you begin to palm his erection. He whines, moving your hand away before laying you back down. His eyes scan your body, now realizing you were never wearing a bra. There you are, laying on his bed in nothing other than your underwear and he has to try and collect himself before he cums in his pants at just the mere sight of you. His right hand begins to travel up your leg, his fingers lightly running along your skin as he continues to look at you, look at every inch of you. His fingers travel past your hip up to your breasts where he cups one of them, earning a small gasp from you.
He bites the inner part of his cheek, trying to contain himself as he fondles your breast, playing with your nipple, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. He leans down to leave light kisses on your shoulder, looking at your face between each one, going down and stopping at your other breast before latching his mouth around your nipple. You bite your lip, one of your hands comes to grip his hair. He moans as he swirls his tongue around your nipple, occasionally flicking it. He felt drunk and so incredibly turned on. He stops fondling your other breast with his hand and lightly trails his fingers down to your underwear, sticking his hand inside. You gasp again, his fingers feeling a little cold as he runs them along your wet folds. 
Fuck he was making you feel good and you let out a moan, making him smirk. He sticks a finger in, making you grip his hair a little harder, and so he sticks in two. You moan again and he pulls away from your breast to kiss you as his fingers pump in and out of you. You’ve become so wet that you start to cover his hand in your wetness, the sound of his hand coming in constant contact with your pussy starting to fill the room. You feel yourself become close and your mouth falls agape. He stops kissing you and pulls back as well as pulling his fingers out of you. You open your eyes, the dim lights suddenly being so bright as you try to process what is happening.
He brings his fingers to his lips, licking off your arousal from them. His eyes close as he inhales deeply, consumed by the taste of you.
“Please, Heeseung…” you start to plead.
He opens his eyes and figures he can’t leave you without what you want. So, in honor of a fair trade since he feels intoxicated by your taste, he takes off your underwear and throws your legs over his shoulders as he positions his face in front of your pussy. You swallow harshly as you feel his breath on you before he licks a stripe along your core, causing your eyes to roll back a little bit and your back arch at the sudden contact. His hands grip the sides of your thighs as he indulges in you, licking up every last drop of you before making his way to your clit and sucking on it.
“Fuck, Heeseung…” you moan out breathlessly.
He’s too consumed by your taste to notice and he pulls you more into his face. He moans into you, one of his hands leaving your thigh as he starts to finger you again. He hears you moaning and gasping, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you. Just the sight of you causes him to pick up his pace, his fingers rapidly going in and out of you and the more you moan, the more turned on he gets. You feel yourself become closer, gripping the sheets as you call out his name. That mixed with the taste of you on his tongue makes him moan. You taste so good, you look so beautiful, he feels like the luckiest man alive to have you call out his name. He sucks harder and pumps faster as he moans into you, cumming in his pants. 
Your head falls deeper into the pillow you were laying on as you release yourself all over his fingers, mouth, and face. His movements begin to slow down as he calms down from his high and he pulls away, seeing your legs shaking a bit. He sits back, taking your legs off of his shoulders and you look at him. His face is flushed and shiny because of your cum, which he didn’t mind. He licked his fingers again, trying to catch his breath afterwards and you find the energy to sit up. 
You pull him in for a kiss and his hands land on your ass, squeezing it. You moan and reach your slightly shaky hands up to the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them. You pull away as you take the shirt off of him, throwing it to the side. This time, you leave a trail of kisses from his jaw to his neck, his mouth falling agape from pleasure. He was becoming hard again and so you started to undo his belt as well as the button and zipper on his pants. You can hear him let out shallow breaths, and he pulls you back to kiss him on the lips. You kiss each other with so much need, and as you start taking off his pants, he pulls away to take them off himself. 
You watch as he does, seeing his bulge through his underwear along with the cum stain from earlier. You smirk, which makes him feel a little shy.
“Come here.” you say, your eyes flicking back to meet his.
He listens, and you move each other so he is now the one laying back as you sit between his legs. He swallows harshly, completely turned on by the sight of your bare self looking at him in such a sinful way. Fuck, he wants you to ruin him. You keep eye contact with him as you lightly grab the edge of his boxers. His breath hitches as he becomes increasingly more nervous and he bites his lip as you run your pointer finger over his v-line. You smirk, slowly pulling his boxers off of him and finally letting his aching cock free. You cast aside his boxers, lightly running your fingers along his length, making him let out little moans, trying to decide what you want to do next. Seeing him like this, you decide you can’t wait any longer, so you position yourself over his cock, one hand holding onto his shoulder as the other guides it into your cunt. 
You both throw your heads back as you let out a moan in unison. You slowly sank onto his length and he watched in awe. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening and when you finally settled fully onto his cock, his mind felt fuzzy. You felt so fucking good and here you were, riding his dick with hickies all over your chest and neck made by him. Consumed by his thoughts, he gripped your hips a little bit harsher as he let out a stifled breath. You look at him, wondering what was happening, but feeling his cock twitch inside of you and him letting out a string of moans and apologies answered your question quickly as he came inside of you. 
His breathing settled after his release and he looks at you, eyes a little hazy, but full of pleasure; he looked so fucked out. 
“I’m so sorry.” he half whispers and half exclaims. 
He really meant it and to be honest, he was kind of embarrassed. You shake your head.
“Don’t be,” you say, starting to rock your hips, causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure, “it was hot.” You pick up your speed and call out his name from how good he is making you feel. “Shit…” you whine as you start to lose momentum from the pleasure. He notices and adjusts himself so he is laying a little bit lower to which he slings his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a small yelp as he hoists his hips up, thrusting into you, fast and deep. “Fuck…” you call out into his ear, making him pick up his pace. 
Moans mixed with the sound of his cock rutting into you fills the room and you grip the sheets as you feel yourself clench around him.
“Fuck-” Heeseung starts, but is cut off by his own moans from being close to his climax.
He thrusts into you faster and you clench around him harsher, your legs shaking as you cum all over his dick. He grips your waist harsher and clenches his jaw, breathy moans still escaping through his teeth as he cums–once again–inside of you. He does a few more thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out of your throbbing cunt. You both lay there for a moment, you still on top of him, trying to catch your breath.
“So…” Heeseung starts. You lift your head slightly to look him in the eyes and he smiles sheepishly, “does this mean you’ll go on that date with me?” he asks, hopeful.
You roll your eyes, “God, you’re annoying.” you say before smiling.
2K notes · View notes
little-diable · 6 months
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I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)
I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)
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Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts. 
The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him. 
“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips. 
Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect. 
“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.” 
“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together. 
“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her. 
……
“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions. 
His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.
“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.
“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.
“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing. 
Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy. 
“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.” 
Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. 
“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.
He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet. 
No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room. 
……
The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.
“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her. 
“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud. 
“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months. 
“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.
“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap. 
“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his. 
“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.
“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.
“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her. 
(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time. 
“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.
Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart. 
“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.
The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.
And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.
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katsu28 · 27 days
Note
can I request “tucking a strand of hair behind your partner's ear” with remus lupin? maybe him and shy!reader’s very first kiss?
thank you for requesting <3 so sorry it's taken me such a hefty chunk of time to get this written, hope you like it!
remus lupin x shy!reader, 2.7k
You were never really sure how to act around Remus. You were comfortable around him, of course. But it was hard for you to figure it out because you liked him. You liked him so much it scared you a little bit, because you’d never fancied anyone as much as you did him. 
He was kind and funny and smart, loyal to a fault and protective over those he cared for. And sure, sometimes he could be a bit grumpy and rough around the edges, but that was what made him Remus. 
Remus, who enjoyed your personal space as much as you did, it seemed, with the way he was always close to you. 
Whether it was his long fingers intertwined with yours as you made your way through town, or one of his arms over your shoulders to whisper a snarky remark reserved only for your ears about how the overly dramatic story Sirius was in the middle of telling was a boldfaced lie the long haired boy had concocted to impress one of Lily’s mates whilst you were out with everyone. 
Remus, who bought you flowers because they were pretty and thought you would like them even though the pollen sent him into sneezing fits that required him to sit across the room from them at all times. 
You said you’d rather him not get them at all if his allergies were that bad, but he always shook his head instantly, claiming that sneezing and sniffling was nothing compared to how brightly you beamed when you spotted the bundle in his hand. 
Remus, who wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was perfect for you. 
You still hadn’t quite grasped the concept that he liked you the same way yet. It seemed like a dream that you never dared question because you didn’t want to wake up from it. Who would want to wake up from the bliss that was being the one person Remus fancied? 
Maybe that’s why you hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to kiss him yet. There were a few times you’d come close, forgetting everything and letting his lips get within an inch of your own before chickening out and turning away at the last second. You were worried he’d find your reasoning for it silly. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to kiss him. You really wanted to, but your inner voice won out every time, that stupid little voice in the back of your mind telling you he’d surely lose interest in you once he figured out you had no idea how to kiss someone. He’d know you’d never kissed anyone immediately, and he’d come to his senses and move along when he still could. 
Part of you thought Remus was far too fond of you to be that harsh, but there was no beating that voice in your head. You didn’t want to jeopardize the good thing you had going with him. 
He never questioned why you always seemed to pull away from him at the last minute. If anything he took it in stride, shifting his focus to anything else so you wouldn’t feel like you were putting him out. 
You should’ve known his curiosity and even his frustration would come to head at some point. One day, he’d try again and finally voice his confusion. 
You’d fallen asleep in his lap on this quite nice spring afternoon, after spending the morning out on a walk in one of the nearby gardens, not on purpose but rather a result of the warmth emanating from his body and the worn sofa you’d both collapsed on upon returning to your flat. 
Truly, you didn’t know you’d drifted asleep until Remus coughed. It was quiet, but loud enough to stir you from your slumber, blinking awake slowly until you realized your cheek was pressed against his thigh. 
Stifling a rather large yawn, you shifted onto your back, stretching your limbs out until your joints popped and your vision cleared. When it did, you zeroed in on Remus above you, waiting for you to notice him. 
“You snore a little bit, did you know that?” He said coolly, cocking his head. 
You pushed his head away from you playfully, fighting the grin threatening to overtake your lips at the sight of him peering down at you. “You were watching me sleep?” 
“Very hard to read when I’ve got a foghorn in my lap.” He tutted, but the sticky sweet smile gracing his handsome face told you he was anything but annoyed. 
His scar stretched when he smiled like that, the jagged white marring his face rounding out the apple of his cheek as it raised. Remus tended to be self conscious about it, but less so when your fingers came up to trace along it. Not intended to bring attention to it in any way, but to reinforce that it wasn't something that deterred you from him. He felt better about it after. 
“Sorry.” You said sheepishly. In your scramble to an upright position, you completely missed the way Remus deflated as you moved away. “Good book?” 
“Fine, I suppose. Good sleep?” 
“Fine, I suppose.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours. 
“Cheeky.” 
“Been spending too much time with you.” 
“Is that it?” He huffed out an amused chuckle, letting his hand fall onto your knee. You didn’t dare react, fighting the urge to allow your leg to bounce even when Remus’ fingers began to circle lightly. “What else about me is rubbing off on you?” 
“Dunno. What do you think?” 
“What do I think? I think…you don’t need any of my bad habits mucking you up, because you’re perfect the way you are.” Remus murmured. You averted your gaze from his, avoiding the softness in his expression in favor of focusing hard on a loose thread from your sock. He was being nice, like he always was, and you didn’t know how to react, like you always did. “Though an overthinker, maybe. Don’t dwell on it too long, love, you’ll only end up hurting yourself.” 
“I don’t overthink.” You protested rather meekly, pouting. Remus made a disbelieving sound in response, lilting and a little bit teasing, but soft and fond nonetheless. He reached out, bumping his knuckles against your chin affectionately, letting his fingers travel a little further to push the hair away from your face. 
Your skin felt like it was on fire when he brushed against your ear, even more so when his hand came back to settle at the curve of your jaw, thumb sweeping along the apple of your cheek tenderly. Almost too tenderly, with the way he was looking at you too.
Part of you wanted to steer the conversation in another direction, but you managed to push the feeling aside, wanting to see maybe, just maybe, if he moved to kiss you this time, you wouldn’t shy away. 
Remus moved slowly like he didn’t want to spook you, getting closer and closer still. 
Five inches. Four, three, two—no, you couldn’t do it. You shifted abruptly, teetering back on your palms under the guise of losing your balance. 
Remus frowned, blinking slowly. His hand dropped from where it had been against your cheek, falling against his knee almost dejectedly. “Do you not like me?” 
“Of course I like you,” You insisted. Obviously he wouldn’t believe you. Even you wouldn’t have believed you. Not at all to your surprise, he looked thoroughly unconvinced, so you tried again. “I do.” 
“Right.” He said. His brows drew together in the middle, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Right, you say that, but every time I get close to you, or I try to kiss you, or god forbid I try to pay you a compliment, you always pull away. I haven’t said anything before, because I figured you’d clue me in when you were ready, but you haven’t.” 
“Rem…” You sighed, drawing your knees towards your chest. His shoulders lifted up by his ears, dropping into a resigned shrug as he searched your face for any semblance of an explanation. 
“Is it me? Am I misreading this whole thing? I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening.” He was frustrated, you could tell. Frustrated, confused, maybe even a little disappointed, and with good reason. “I know you don’t like opening up, but it’s me, love. You can talk to me, right?” 
You twisted your lips to the side, suddenly feeling all kinds of embarrassed. Remus thought you didn’t like him because of the way you acted around him. You wouldn’t lose him because of what you were doing; you’d more likely lose him because of what you weren’t doing. 
Things needed to change, now, and you were the only one who could change them.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Remus.” 
“Does anyone really know what they’re doing?” 
“No I mean, like, I’ve never been in a relationship before. I don’t know what to do around you, how to act. So I just…” 
“Shut down?” He offered, not malicious in any way, but understanding. Remus was always just that. Understanding. You nodded wordlessly. “That’s the thing about relationships. There’s no single right way to be in one. You’ve just got to figure out what works best for the both of you. We need to figure things out, but we can’t do that if we don’t communicate.” 
You sighed, letting your chin dip towards your chest. “I’m sorry, Remus.” 
“Oh, you.” He said fondly, maybe even a little bit sadly. “You’ve not got anything to be sorry about at all. Now we know where to start.” His palm skated over your knee, up, up, up until he was met with soft skin against the rougher pads of his fingers. Goosebumps raised at his touch and he smiled softly again, not-so-secretly pleased he could elicit that kind of reaction from you. “You’re doing fine, love. Thank you for telling me.” 
“There’s something else too. Why I haven’t let you kiss me yet.” 
“Why?” 
“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You mumbled, voice muffled by the sleeve of your jumper. 
He squinted at you, leaning in closer, as if somehow heard you wrong. “Come again?” 
“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You repeated, as loud as you could muster. “I was afraid you’d leave me when you found out. That you’d think it was weird and off putting and you wouldn’t like me anymore.”
Remus blinked at you, long and slow. It sure was something to process, you knew that.
It’s not like you were expecting him to understand or come to terms with your reasons right away. You’d been battling with these thoughts every time you were with him, even more when you weren’t. This was brand new information for him. 
What you definitely weren’t expecting him to do was snort. Your nose wrinkled in immediate offense, even more so he cracked a smile. 
“You really thought I’d leave you because you’ve never kissed anyone?” 
You scowled, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment as you folded your arms over your chest stiffly. “Well now that you’re the one saying it out loud, it sounds stupid.” 
“It is!” 
“Don’t be mean, Remus!!” You huffed. You angled yourself away from him to stare angrily out the window, brows furrowed tightly, shoulders hunched.
Before you could brood too much, his large hands spun you right back around to face him again. He wasn’t smiling at you the way he was before, but you could still see the leftover twinkle in his eyes and it definitely didn’t make you feel better. 
“You’re being silly, love. You really thought I’d leave you because you haven’t kissed anyone before?” He repeated, ducking to catch your gaze with your every attempt to avoid his. You turned away from him, he chased after you, like some weird game of cat and mouse. 
Eventually you grew tired of it and you looked him square in the eye, jaw set. “Yes I did, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped saying it like that.” The corners of Remus’ mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Lupin.” 
“Oh, now we’re on a last name basis?” He replied, brows raised in amusement. “I’m not going to laugh at you. I think you’re being ridiculous, but I like it.” 
“Ridiculous is even worse than silly!” You spluttered, losing your nerve from before at the risk of sounding whiny. You’d stomp your foot to bring your point across even more, but that seemed a little too dramatic for the situation. Settling for a deep frown, you scowled at your boyfriend, moving to rise off the couch. 
“No, wait—I’m sorry, I’ll be serious now, I promise.” He insisted, holding his hands up palm out in front of him. “No more poking fun, you have my word.” 
“Fine.” 
“Look, I don’t care that you’ve never snogged anyone before. In fact, that’s good news for me—means you won’t be able to tell if I’m absolutely shit at it.” 
“I thought you were being serious now.” You grumbled. 
“I am! I am. Y/N, I…” Remus hesitated, raking a hand back through his hair. “I’ve never felt the way I do for you with anyone else before. And I haven’t really, erm, been with a lot of people, so this, with you, it's special to me.”
“Me too.” 
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry if it feels like I’m going too fast, or pushing you into something you’re not comfortable with. You can always tell me to fuck off and I’ll understand.” 
“It doesn’t.” You said quickly, shaking your head. Still, he looked skeptical, bordering on guilty. “You don’t. You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. It’s actually the opposite. I…I feel more like myself when I’m around you. You make me feel safe, Remus. To be who I am, to say what I want. I just—I’m still trying to figure out what that means, and sometimes it makes me unsure of myself.” 
You weren’t even sure where all the words were coming from, but as soon as they left your mouth you knew they were true. 
“I know the feeling.” He murmured, letting you take his hand in yours. His thumb rubbed along your knuckles absentmindedly. “For what it’s worth, I reckon you’re bloody great. And I’m glad you feel safe with me. That you feel like you can be yourself. Means I’ve done something right.” 
“You’ve done everything right, Remus. I’m the one who can’t get over myself and be who you deserve.” 
“Hey, hey, stop that.” He chided, giving a firm shake of his head. “You’re already everything I deserve and more.” 
“You’re too sweet to me.” You frowned, leaning into him. His arm swept across your back, fingers curling around your shoulder to bring you even closer, a swift move punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head. You angled yourself so you were looking up at him, ready to gauge his reaction to your next question. “Can you…kiss me now?”
Remus’ brows flew high. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes.”
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can wait, I promise. I—” 
“Will you shut up and kiss me, Remus?” 
Remus lifted your chin with two fingers, rich coffee eyes searching your own for any ounce of hesitation and coming up empty, before closing the gap between you swiftly, but not rushed. Firm, but not aggressive. He kissed you much like the way he acted around you.
Even though you were more or less just following his lead, kissing Remus came to you easier than you thought it would. His hand slid up to the back of your neck. Yours bunched into the front of his jumper like you’d done it before, subconsciously tugging him closer until he’d backed you up against the opposite armrest of the couch, one arm braced on either side of you to hold himself up. 
His body blanketed yours, lips leading to the edge of something more before he pulled away. He studied you again, reveling in the dazed look in your eyes as you both caught your breath. “How was that for your first kiss?” 
“Mm, good,” You hummed, still a bit taken aback (in the best possible way). 
“Top marks?” 
“Absolutely.” 
“Alright if I go for extra credit?” 
“Please.” 
Now that you’d finally managed to kiss Remus, you didn’t want to stop. You honestly didn’t think he’d mind if you never stopped. You certainly wouldn’t.
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bakuliwrites · 9 months
Text
It's the little things that Astarion comes to savor with his freedom.
Over the course of his journey with you and the others, he wakes every morning to the gilded light of the sun. He greets it as if greeting an old friend, basking in the warmth of reunion. He's not sure how much longer he'll have to enjoy it, so he relishes every moment he spends in its incandescent light.
Astarion savors the smell of freshly brewed tea. Bergamot, lemon, mint. Herbaceous, floral, earthy, bright. He breathes it all in, everything he can. Long gone are the fetid smells of rot and pungent bile that filled Cazador's palace. Every once in a while, a carcass on the road might hit him with that powerful, unpleasant scent memory. So he's taken to carrying a handkerchief he's spritzed with his signature scent in order to cover his mouth and nose when the memories come flooding back. Something to ground him in the present moment. Over time, when the scent of the handkerchief begins to fade and his bond with his companions grows closer, he starts to douse it in their various perfumes. To remind him of family. To remind him of his real home.
Everything feels bright and new. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. But always transcendently beautiful. The green of the leaves high above him, the way the ground is dappled with sunlight. The almost lurid colors of wildflowers, harsh on his eyes at first, but he'd rather that then the sapped grays of his previous confines. He marvels at the sun sinking beyond the horizon in vibrant pinks and oranges. He hems and haws over various dyes sold by merchants along the road, wondering what color might suit him best. There are so many to choose from, so many striking possibilities.
Astarion cherishes moonlit walks down quiet roads, fingers intertwined with yours, the stars twinkling high above. Gazing upwards, there's a vastness that stretches infinitely above. No longer is he trapped, enclosed in the depths. When he looks up, there's no ceiling to greet him. No ominous, crushing darkness. Only the boundless heavens above, and a wide world unfurling around him.
Astarion holds close every moment he shares with his fellow adventurers. The back and forth teasing, all in good fun, all out of affection. Although sometimes the arguments turn nasty. But even these don't bother him for long. At the end of the day, everyone settles and anger is forgotten around the crackling warmth of the campfire. Sharing meals together, resting under the shade of a great tree. Swapping stories, weaving tales together. Karlach's resounding laughter echoing through the night. Shadowheart's quiet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Lae'zel begrudgingly smirking at one of Astarion’s snarky quips. Halsin's strong, but quiet presence. Astarion even finds himself smiling at some of Gale's various displays of his magic and Wyll's heroic tales. He'd never admit any of that out loud to them, but when his eyelids start to droop at night, he smiles to himself, grateful to be amongst friendly company.
Astarion cherishes waking up next to you every morning, and settling in beside you every night. You kissing him awake, lips featherlight on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. The crook of your neck is a safe space for Astarion, one you've helped him build over these last several months. When he's there, he feels protected. You hold him close, enveloping him warmly in your embrace, surrounding him in the gentle scent of you and the metal of your blood. You and the people in this little camp have come to mean safety, nourishment, and home to him. And it's these little things that mean more than anything to Astarion in the whole world.
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works-of-fanfiction · 9 months
Text
The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader
< Previous
Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.
Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.
Word Count: 5.7k
 a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x 
(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)
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“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.
“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.
“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.
“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.
Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.
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“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.
“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.
Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”
“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.
Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”
“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”
Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.
Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.
“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then  – “
“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”
“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”
Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.
“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”
“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.
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“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.
It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception. 
“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”
“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.
“Not even one?”
“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.
“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.
He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.
“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.
Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.
“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.
“She doesn’t want – “
“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…
Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?” 
The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand. 
She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”
Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.” 
“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.” 
“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all. 
“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?” 
“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably. 
Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!” 
“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.
“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table. 
“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.” 
Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.
Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.” 
“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.
“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted. 
“So quick to jump to his defence.” 
“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.” 
“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience. 
“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her. 
He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “ 
“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.” 
“You wouldn’t lose - “ 
“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “ 
“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.” 
She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.” 
“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.” 
“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “
“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.
Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.
“Please…”
“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.
Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”
He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”
“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.
Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.
Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.
“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”
“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
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Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.
How could you? 
Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head? 
He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed. 
The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears? 
“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?” 
“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.
“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?” 
“How do you feel?” 
This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.
“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?” 
“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.” 
Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!” 
They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion. 
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.
Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning? 
Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade. 
“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes. 
“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”
“What do you suggest?” 
Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?” 
“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.
“OK, OK! Bad idea!” 
He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.
“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand. 
“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”
As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower. 
“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back. 
“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head. 
“Almost…” 
He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his. 
Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt. 
Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. 
“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks. 
“We can stop if you want.” 
“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.
Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “
“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”
“Alright, I’m sorry…”
“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”
“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”
“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”
“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “
“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”
“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”
She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…
Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.
“Cill?”
“Mhm?”
“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”
“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”
“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”
“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.
“What do you – Oh, right. That.”
She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “
“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.
“What are you doing?”
Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”
“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “
“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.
“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”
“I love you.”
He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.
“Cheesy, but I liked it.”
Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right.  He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”
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mimsynims · 7 months
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Fool For Love
part 7
~~~
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6
~~~
Author’s Note: I wish I could say that this part wrap things up, but I need at least one (probably two) more before these two get their shit together.
More act 2 spoilers this time!
~~~
Astarion x reader/Tav
Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending
Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.
And you’re not handling it very well.
~~~
You’re at the edge of the camp when a hand curls around your arm, forcing you to stop and turn around.
Astarion.
And he looks angry.
“Were you spying on me?”
Thrown by the accusation, you grapple for words. “What? I– Of course not, why would I–”
“Just because Karlach chose Dammon over you, you don’t get to spoil my fun.”
The strange remark about Karlach is quickly overshadowed by his downright ludicrous allegation. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
Astarion carries on as if he didn’t hear you. “You were the one to break things off with me, not the other way around, so you don’t have any say in what or who I do.”
The audacity. “And I wasn’t trying to!”
“Sure, darling, sure.” Sarcasm drips off his words. “That’s why you followed me to the inn.”
“I–” You break off, because, in a way, he’s not wrong. “My intention was to have a drink.”
“If that was true, you wouldn’t have run off when I caught you watching me. Watching us.”
“Astarion, I don’t give a rat’s arse who you sleep with.” The lie slips off your tongue before you can stop it — the alternative is telling him the truth, and right now, that’s not an option. You feel too vulnerable, and honestly, you doubt he’d believe you at this point. “I only left to not make it awkward.”
“Really?” His smile feels vicious, mocking. “Perhaps I should go back to the inn, then.”
The urge to ask him not to is so strong you remain silent until you have yourself under control. “You do that,” you finally press out, “as I said, I don’t care what you do.”
Astarion takes a step closer, searching your face. Your heart is pounding as he scrutinises you; it’s as if he’s determining the validity of your claim. Will he see right through you? A part of you hopes that he will, and as the seconds go by, your determination wavers. Should you risk it?
“Astarion…”
“Fine.” His face hardens. “Have it your way. I’ll see you tomorrow, oh fearless leader.”
With a slight bow, one that feels tinged with scorn rather than respect, he turns around and leaves the same way he came. Towards the inn.
Towards…
“You’re such an idiot, Tav.” You drag a hand across your face. This is the second time he walks away from you, and it hurts just as much as the first time it happened. “Such a fucking idiot.”
If you were tired before, you’re exhausted now.
Perhaps it’s time you take a hint and focus on more important things, like getting these goddamn tadpoles out of your heads.
And maybe by then, things will have worked themselves out. Somehow.
It’s a good thing you’re not expected to be up early the next morning because when dawn comes around, you’ve barely slept at all. Too many thoughts, too many feelings.
You can hear some of the others stir, but you ignore it. And perhaps the comforting background noise of your friends talking and preparing breakfast is exactly what you need to finally relax, because the next thing you know, you fall asleep.
When you wake up, the only ones left in camp are Gale and Shadowheart. And Withers, of course.
“Oooh, look who’s finally awake! Late night for you as well, huh?”
Gale is far too cheery for your taste, but you bite back the snarky comeback because it’s not his fault you feel like shit.
“No, just…”
Shadowheart offers you a sympathetic smile. “Nightmares?”
It’s a convenient lie, so you simply nod, because the truth is far too complicated.
“Where are the rest?” You don’t really want to know, but it’s something you should be asking. So you do.
“Around, somewhere. Haven’t seen Astarion or Karlach, though.”
“Ah. I think I know why.”
So he stayed the night somewhere else, too.
Once you’ve eaten something, you and the rest go back to the inn. Finding Karlach sitting with Dammon is no surprise, but Astarion is nowhere to be found. 
No matter, you tell yourself. There are more important things to worry about.
There are a lot of familiar faces to talk to, keeping you busy. So busy you don’t even notice when Astarion joins the rest of you — suddenly he’s just there, in the back. A quick glance lets you know that he looks about as worn-out as you feel, and you can’t help but wonder if he stayed up all night with that person you saw.
Inhaling a deep breath, you tell yourself to focus on the matter at hand, which is listening to Alfira. It seems it’s time for another rescue mission because of course it is. You’re tired and the increasing burden tests your already frayed patience, but Alfira isn’t the one to blame, so you rein yourself in.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice tells you to take a break, but you ignore it.
You visit Isobel last — and it’s lucky that you do. The attack comes from out of nowhere, catching you all off guard. You don’t want to think what would have happened if Isobel was alone.
It’s a tough battle — made even more difficult by the fact that you’re not on top of your game. You’re struggling, and it’s no one’s fault but your own. 
You’re fortunate that you and your friends work like a well-oiled machine by now — because you will all be doomed if you fail. It warms your heart to realise that even in the midst of your falling out with Astarion, he doesn’t hesitate to fight back-to-back with you when it comes down to it.
In the end, your side comes out winning, but not without losses. You yourself have several cuts and bruises that will need tending to, but you ignore them in favour of checking on everyone yourself. You may not be the leader of people currently residing at the inn, but your neglect makes you feel responsible either way.
“Tav.”
“What is it, Astarion?”
“Stop it with this good samaritan nonsense and go see a healer, would you? You’re leaving a trail of blood all over this place, and I think they have enough problems as it is without having to clean up after you.”
His usual snark is both annoying and comforting. “Maybe once I’m done.”
“You are done. Now, Tav.”
You have intentionally been refusing to look at him until now, but his tone has you shifting your head to glare at him. It seems someone has patched him up already, as you can see bandages on his lower arm and hand. “Astarion, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I will most definitely tell you what to do when you’re being a stubborn idiot. These people already have a leader.”
You know he’s right, but guilt is eating you up and this is the only way to placate the monster of shame inside you. “That doesn’t matter–”
“Tav.” Halsin and Karlach join Astarion’s side, both giving you a worried look. “That’s enough.”
“Right. Fine.” You may have won the fight, but you feel like a failure, knowing how many lives were lost tonight. “I’ll go and find Shadowheart.”
You have no idea what she sees on your face, but it’s enough to have her hold back any remarks and tend to your many wounds in silence. As you’re coming down from the adrenaline rush, you start to feel weary and disappointed with yourself.
“You should eat something. Rest.”
“Later.” You know she’s right, but you’re too restless still to heed her advice. “I need to, I don’t know.” Rising, you make a vague motion with your hand. “Walk things off first.” What you really need is to fall into someone’s arms and cry, but that’s not on the table.
“At least bring an apple or something,” she concedes. “And make sure to return before nightfall, or I’ll send Astarion after you.”
You open your mouth to object but close it again. That’s the perfect threat right now and you hate that she knows it. “Fine.”
“We just want you to be careful, Tav. We all need each other, you know.”
You sigh. “I know. I promise I won’t be gone long.”
“Good. And for what it’s worth, it wasn’t your fault.”
Wasn’t it, though? You catch Astarion watching you as you leave. He better not follow you.
For everyone’s sake, you need to be alone. Now, and until this whole tadpole situation has been dealt with.
No more distractions.
~~~
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vanderlesbian · 8 months
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141 dating a civilian
hii!! this is a self indulgent belated bday gift to myself (im 20 now...) but i hope u guys enjoy it!! also feel free to leave requests in my asks bc i am so bad at thinking of prompts but ive been wanting to write so bad LOL
writing this had made me realize that i love writing gaz content........i am obsessed with him.........
gn reader! no warnings :)
masterlist
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captain john price
- price loves being around you—you bring a sense of normalcy that relaxes him. when he's home, he enjoys doing domestic things around the home. he offers to do the laundry, he'll make you tea in the mornings, he feeds the dog and cat you two raise together and will go with you on any errands you need to run. when he's with you, he never thinks about work, which makes you happy because you hate to see him overworking himself.
- i feel like you two would meet through laswell. a mutual friend, you and price would meet one another at a pub or something of the sort. immediately, the two of you take an interest in one another, and laswell would catch onto that rather quickly and finds it endearing. when getting to know one another, you mention the fact that you live alone, which gives price the excuse to hand you his number. "in case you need anything", is what he told you, and you could've sworn you saw laswell snickering behind him. regardless, you ended up texting him a few days after that, asking him if he knew how to fix cars.
- loves going on vacations with you!! when price has a decent period of time off, he'll ask you if you want to go somewhere, to which you always answer yes. road trips are his favorite, because driving for long periods of time is something calming for him and he enjoys the fact that it's just the two of you traveling. maybe you'll go camping, or perhaps you'll drive a country over to spend a few days in a different city; whatever it is, you and price always have a nice time. while he gets to travel a lot, he recognizes that you don't have the same opportunity, so he loves to take you places as see your reactions to things. when he's deployed, he's always on the lookout for places to take you later.
- one of your favorite things to do is visit price while he's in the office. you usually bring him a meal, whether it be home made or take out because you know he's going to forget about grabbing himself something to eat. he always thanks you with a kiss, then you linger for a moment to speak to him, giving him time to eat and take a break from his work. while you're visiting price, all of his attention is on you, and if a soldier knocks on his door and asks to speak to him, he'll use his captain voice to tell them to come by later unless it's an emergency.
- price is very proud to call you his partner. although he tries not to bring you up too often at work because of privacy and professional reasons, he likes to mention you casually every now and then, especially with laswell or the other 141 members. he's proud of the work you do, no matter what your career is; he's just likes to brag about his amazing partner. he will do his signature v shaped smile whenever someone says in surprise,"oh, your partner is a/n [occupation]? how cool!"
simon "ghost" riley
- ghost is a listener, not a talker. and boy, does he love listening to you ramble on about your day. he finds it cute; the way you complain how expensive your coffee was that morning, or how you couldn't decide what to wear to simply go pick up a snack from the store. his responses include a lot of "oh really?", "i bet", and some snarky comments when you bring up a coworker that you don't particularly like. ghost is quiet, but his little responses show that he's well invested in your stories.
- just like everything else in his life, ghost keeps his relationship with you very private. it took him quite a while to even tell any of the other 141 members that he was in a relationship, simply because he didn't feel the need to tell them. he also wanted to protect you; not that he didn't trust the other members, but he was scared of your name accidentally being said to the wrong person. you were innocent, and ghost didn't want to ruin that innocence with the dark realities of his job and put you in danger.
- listen; meeting him at a music store. you would definitely be the one to initiate things, so when you saw a tall, handsome man flipping through records beside you, it made you look for an excuse to speak to him. "that's a good album", you would then finally speak up after watching him pull out a vinyl by the doors. ghost would honestly be taken aback; no one ever really strikes up conversation with him in public. "yeah" would be his response, but the dryness of it didn't stop you from continuing the conversation. after you two begin dating, ghost will often bring up how you were insistent on speaking to him, which never fails to bring a shy blush to your cheeks.
- you think it's amusing to have such a "scary" looking boyfriend. he tags along behind you whenever the two of you go out, and you often forget how large and intimidating he looks to others, especially because he always wears dark colored outfits and a face mask out in public. imagine ghost lingering behind you like a lost puppy while you mindlessly look through clothes at a store. when you're at the register, you notice the cashier glancing behind you, forgetting that ghost is looming over you like a bodyguard.
- speaking of others reactions, you love showing ghost off to people. you'll be spending time with friends, family, coworkers—whoever, and you get so excited whenever they ask if you have a boyfriend. you think it's funny to see their eyes widen when you pull up a photo saying "this is simon, he's deployed right now but (blah blah blah)". you had asked ghost for his permission to show photos of him to others while he wasn't around, and at first he was hesitant, but after hearing about the reactions he gives people, he doesn't care anymore. people think "that's their boyfriend?", which makes ghost smile to himself because yes, he's all yours.
kyle "gaz" garrick
- you two have this thing where the moment he opens the door after coming home from a mission, you'll sprint into his arms and he never fails to pick you up off your feet and squeeze you tight. gaz greets you like he hasn't seen you in years, covering your face and neck in kisses and spinning you around in his arms for what feels like forever.
- loves to facetime you when he's away. sometimes you'll be in different timezones, but both of you will be willing to stay up at 3 in the morning jusst to talk to one another. gaz always gives you room tours of whatever place he's staying at while deployed, or he'll call you while he's out shopping to ask what souvenir you'd like best. sometimes the other 141 boys will pop in to say hello, or gaz will shove the camera in their face to ask if they have anything to say to you.
- i feel that gaz would easily become jealous, especially because he can't be with you all the time. while he's away from you, you'll text or call him about an encounter at work or while you were out and about where someone tried hitting on you, earning a snarky remark from gaz. they always make you giggle because you're aware how protective he is of you, and they're often silly remarks like "they're lucky i wasn't there" or "should've told 'em your boyfriend is 6'5 and a wrestler"
- gaz is younger, so i feel that you would be a university student or something of the sort when you first met him. working part time at a local coffee shop at the time, you vividly remember gaz complimenting you the first time you served him. "you're very pretty/handsome, by the way" he said confidently, but quickly walked off before you could thank him. after that, gaz came in as often as he could, learning something new about you each time he came in, and it got to a point where you would simply give him a drink or pastry for free each time he came in. eventually he would ask you out, offering to take you somewhere after your shift, to which you immediately agreed to.
- when gaz visits your place, it's always like a silly little sleepover. the two of you will watch comically bad movies, make homemade pizza, play those couple's card games and he'll listen to you talk about any gossip you have. when gaz is with you, he takes it as his time to just be himself because he's so comfortable in your presence. he doesn't have to worry about being formal with you, and the two of you are equally as silly as you spend time with one another.
john "soap" mactavish
- soap doesn't like to bother you with his work. when he's with you, he'll always be so upbeat and playful, but you've learned to be able to notice when he's particularly stressed or tired. he insists that he's fine, telling you that you don't have to worry about him as he tries to play it off. he's a bit stubborn about it, so sometimes you have to bother him just a bit before he finally gives in and tells you what's up, or simply agrees to laying down and having a rest.
- okay, picture this. you meet soap at a dog park. i think he would have a german shepherd...which is besides the point, but when your dog and his both stop in their tracks to be friendly with one another, both of you feel that it's only natural to make conversation, right? the two of you quickly hit it off, to which you credit mostly to soap for being much more extroverted than you are, and the two of you talk about your dogs for a bit before the conversation focuses on yourselves. smoothly, soap would ask for you to join him on another trip to the dog park sometime, using the excuse that your dogs seemed to like each other.
- soap loves to text you while he's away, and other than gaz, he would be the one to text you the most out of any of the boys. he mostly sends a lot of random pictures of things he says reminds you of him, but will also update you on a bunch of random little things he's doing. "just shit in this french bathroom" "johnny i don't need to know that" "had to tell somebody"
- will leave plenty of his clothes for you to wear while he's gone, and it's practically all you wear during that time. you'll leave the house in an outfit completely made up of your boyfriend's clothes because they're just so comfortable, and it makes you feel less lonely having his scent lingering with you. even when soap is home, you still constantly wear his clothes, and 90% of his wardrobe is practically yours.
- soap would love to visit YOU at work. you forget your chapstick? he's on his way. you text him that you're hungry and forgot to pack a meal? he's bringing you your favorite fast food. although he's busy and can't stop by all the time, soap tries to stop by as often as he can, and all of your coworkers have learned to recognize him. "here comes johnny" one of them will point out, making you quickly whip your head around to look.
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holiday drabbles 6/9
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"i dont understand how you can love this weather so much"
you had barely peeled your eyes open, which only meant that it took a bit longer than usual for you to process levi's snarky comment. it had been snowing for nearly a week straight. while it wasn't heavy, repeatedly having to shovel the driveway and sidewalk was quickly becoming a pain in the ass.
plus, it seemed that no matter how much you cranked up the heat, the house would still feel like a freezer every morning. you were currently wrapped up in your duvet, burying your face into the cushion to keep your nose from feeling too cold.
you had to get up. you were quickly beginning to have obligations coming up that you had been procrastinating on due to the weather, but as soon as you stuck your hand out of the blanket, you were met with nothing but the chilling cold.
hearing your huff of frustration, levi snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you up against him, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the chill of the air around you.
"stay in bed a bit," he whispered, planting a few kisses onto the nape of your neck. "it's warmer here anyway."
you let out a small 'hmm' of content, shutting your eyes again as he wrapped his arms around you. he loosened up enough to let you turn to face him, curling your arms in and burying your face into his chest.
"if you're really this damn cold every day, then why the hell are you so excited for this weather every single year?"
"...snow's pretty," you whined, your voice muffled as you spoke against his chest.
"that the only reason?" levi questioned as his grip on you tightened, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.
"...cuddles are nice too," you reluctantly admitted.
"that's more like it," he muttered, shifting so that he could look into your eyes, lifting your chin and planting a gentle kiss against your lips.
you had planned to finally get your chores done today, but now that you were warm and snuggling up against levi, you knew that none of that would actually get done.
not that you really minded. you'd much rather cuddle.
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adoriin · 4 months
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in space, we're here ! gojo x reader
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when speaking about satoru, you have to stifle the grin that threatens to make itself known. many think he's a handful, affectionately scoffing at your poorly concealed lovesick gaze when you mention him as if they could never imagine coming home to his antics at the end of a long day.
honestly, you're grateful for that.
the satoru you know, the satoru you love to know, isn't half as obnoxious as he attempts to be outside your four walls; no, he's gentle, quiet even. gentle in the way his hands graze your skin as you would if you were feeling the petals of a delicate flower. he's quiet first thing in the morning and last thing at night especially, dozy and soft as he reaches for you with one hand and his mug with the other, preparing his morning coffee or herbal tea before bed. he's also attentive, careful. but that spans his entire being, always observing and acting carefully whether that's on missions paired with snarky quips and remarks or at home, as he hands you his half-drunken mug of tea he's seen you eye up for the last half hour with an affectionate roll of his eyes.
he's not a completely different person, you've never been exempt from his teasing. but his words are delivered with little grins and sweet gazes, calling you out on your bed hair whilst brushing some of the strands carefully, eyes fond as he presses a kiss to your temple as you dozily lean against him.
his attentiveness is his own worst enemy he realises. the front he puts on is carefully constructed, a window that allows him to be seen without anyone getting too close. after all, being the strongest draws in the strongest enemies, the strongest hardships. he'd always thought it'd be irresponsible, unethical even, to fall in love. for someone like him whose top priority has to be the world, how could he ever prioritise just one? even so, the start of your relationship wasn't as turbulent as some would expect, you'd both argue it was the most natural progression you'd ever seen. you were bright in a way he hadn't encountered before, subdued but always there, shining slow and steady like a star. he'd once rather poetically voiced the sentiment aloud, knowing that after the initial giggle at his cheesiness, you'd understand. for someone resembling the moon, so beautifully solitary, the stars were a natural lifelong companion. it was this that had him falling into steady routines with you way easier than he thought was possible.
you were there, waiting for him at the end of long days and sullen weather, cosied up in bed and looking like the personification of comfort itself. he redacted his thoughts fast, because in moments like this, he knows he's in over his head, he's fallen fast and hard and never been so grateful to be suspended above the ground. he knows he'll continue to fall for eternity as your hands rake through his freshly washed hair every night, as you speak about your day whether it be mundane or packed to the brim. he knows even as he finally succumbs to the exhaustion weighing his body down: he'll hold no regrets so long as he can wake up to you every morning and lay with you every night.
you're grateful.
for his presence, for the weight of his head on your chest, and the tufts of his moonlit hair tickling your chin. you're grateful as your fingers trace the cool band on his finger and the mutual promise sealed with a kiss; a promise that no matter the path of his orbit around the world, you'll be the closest star.
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a/n: idk what this is mjus very in love with satoru at this point and it's all coming out in convoluted metaphors and rambles pls love it thank u pookies <;33
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heich0e · 2 years
Text
wake up call suna rintarou/f!reader (haikyuu!) word count: 2k tags: sfw but suggestive, classic morning after meltdown, walk of shame (bedroom to kitchen edition), pining, fwb to lovers, idiots to lovers, instagram story repliers to lovers, bestfriend!terushima, implied teruyams. a/n: i heard suna rintarou has a 8 pack... i heard he’s shredded
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I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up—
“I fucked up.”
“Good morning to you too,” Yuuji chirps from the other line as you answer his call. His bright tone is a stark contrast to your own hoarse, panicked whisper—having frantically fished your ringing cellphone from the bottom of your tangled bedsheets when it woke you. “What did you do this time?”
"I..."
You hear the unmistakable sound of your shower running down the hall of your one bedroom apartment, sucking in a breath.
"... am going to be late for brunch.”
“Ohhh.” Your best friend’s tone of voice turns salacious. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Terushima Yuuji is nothing if not insatiably gossip hungry. “Who did you do this time?"
"Yuuji..." you trail off, weary and miserable.
"I should have known what you were up to when you disappeared from the bar last night without saying goodbye.”
“Yuuji,” you repeat yourself, though this time it's a harsher snap that's punctuated by a painful throb buried deep between your temples. “I’m serious, this is bad.”
“Oh no,” he says with a dramatic gasp, quickly realizing just what—and who—you’ve done.
You let out a dismal, pathetic little groan.
“You said it was never gonna happen again! Swore up and down that you’d rather be struck dead than ever—“
“Shut up,” you hiss, another pang of your aching hangover blooming behind your eyes. “This is all your fault!”
“My fault? You’re the one who was all ‘Yuu I’m getting transferred to Nagano wah wah wahhh I’m not going to know anybody wah wah Oh, doesn’t your super cute boyfriend’s friend study in Nagano? Can’t you put me in contact with him? i just wanna know one person wahhhhh.’”
“That was insulting,” you sniff following his offensive impersonation of the conversation the two of you had shared ten months prior before you'd moved across the country for your promotion. You push your messy, matted hair back from your face.
“That was spot on and you know it.” He snickers. “Anyway, blaming me for any part of the mess you’ve gotten yourself into here is laughable.”
“If you’d never introduced me to Tsukki I never would have met—“
The shower down the hall turns off, and your head snaps towards your bedroom door—left slightly ajar by the last person to exit it.
“I have to go,” you whisper in a panic, and hang up before you can hear Yuuji’s (surely snarky) reply.
You stumble on your own two feet as you scramble out of bed, grabbing an old oversized t-shirt to pull on from your floor next to your hamper. You hadn’t even cleaned up your apartment last night, you realize in horror, rushing out to your living room.
There are dishes in your sink, a half-empty and uncapped bottle of green tea on your counter that you never finished, a pair of shoes in the middle of your floor, and a pile of work papers on the corner of your coffee table with an empty candy wrapper on top that you'd forgotten to throw away. Your eyes flicker to your closed bathroom door and wonder what humiliating mess you might have left in there.
Your cellphone, clutched tightly in your hand, buzzes with a text.
Tadashi and I’s train home to Sendai leaves at 2, and if I don’t see you before then I will assume you have died of mortification or had your back broken.
Either way RIP.
‘Fuck you’ you text back, sneering at the way he's taking pleasure in your misery.
Your bathroom door opens.
“Hey,” a familiar figure steps out, and a wispy cloud of steam follows. You feel the humid heat kiss your cheeks as he towels the ends of his hair.
There's another wrapped around his waist, but the man before you is otherwise glistening and bare.
“Hi.” You stand like a proverbial deer in the headlights, averting your eyes demurely.
The phone in your hand buzzes again, and your gaze flickers towards it.
I wouldn’t say no to Suna Rintarou’s sloppy seconds 👅
You toss your phone gracelessly behind you onto your couch.
Suna quirks a dark brow as the device lands with an audible little thump among the cushions, but otherwise passes no comment.
Everything on your body aches.
“Sleep well?” he asks you, ruffling the hair beside his right ear with the end of your favourite lilac bathtowel.
No.
“Yeah, you?”
“Mhmm.” He lets the towel rest looped around the back of his neck. He juts a thumb over his shoulder towards the door he'd just exited. “I was gonna wake you to ask but I figured I'd just shower first. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, no, of course,” you wave your hand dismissively, trying to keep your voice as even and unbothered as possible though you have reason to suspect you might be failing.
It's painfully, hideously quiet in the moments that follow.
“So," Suna says, his uncannily vulpine eyes watching your every move carefully, "wanna grab breakfast?”
“I have plans actually." Your answer comes too quickly and too emphatically even though it’s true. You shuffle into your kitchen just as an excuse to put some distance between the two of you.
He follows.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you reply through the sticky tightness of your throat. “I can make you a coffee though?”
You feel gross. Your skin feels tacky and icky and you desperately need a shower. You're also fairly confident that you didn’t even have the presence of mind (or remaining stamina) to take any of your makeup off last night, and can only imagine what you must look like right now as a result.
Your cheeks flush hot at the realization, and you spin on your heel to face your kitchen cupboards to--if nothing else--spare you another mortifying moment of being too closely perceived.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” you insist, pulling open the cabinet door in front of you and reaching towards the middle shelf to grab your bag of coffee grinds.
“You can hardly bear to look at me." You can tell as he speaks that Suna's getting closer, and panic mounts in your aching chest. You fiddle with the foiled edge of the plastic coffee bag nervously.
“You’re half naked,” you squeak out like it should be obvious.
A large hand appears in your peripheral vision, resting on the cupboard door next to your head and slowly easing it closed.
"I was fully naked last night, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.”
“Suna, I-“ you falter when you turn around and realize just how close he is.
He's right in front of you. So close that you can feel the residual heat from the shower radiating off his exposed skin, so close you can see the droplets of water that still cling to him. His hand still rests flat against the cupboard beside your head, and the other on the counter next to your hip.
“You call me Rin when you’re drinking, you call me Rin when we’re fucking,”--you realize belatedly he has you practically pinned against the counter with his body--“why can’t you ever call me Rin in the morning?”
Your pulse pounds in the back of your throat, and for a terrible, horrifying moment you think you might be sick. In your panic, you duck under his arm and skitter away.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you mumble, heat climbing up your cheeks as you flee to the other side of your tiny kitchen--not that it does much good.
Suna turns and surveys you skeptically as you wring your clammy hands. “Is that so?”
You nod, entirely unconvincingly.
“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.”
“What reason would I possibly have to lie to you?” you toss back, equally accusatory in tone, but it's clear to both of you that you're floundering.
“Great question," Suna crosses his arms over his stupidly toned chest, "I’d like to know the answer too.”
All you can focus on is how his posture makes both his chest and his biceps look unbelievably good.
“I’m too hungover for this,” you groan, cradling your head in your hands.
“Do you need medicine?” Suna softens in the face of your apparent agony, taking a little step towards you.
“No, no!"--you throw your arm out to keep him at a distance, waving him away dismissively--"And don’t do that.”
“Do what?” he asks, head tilting to the side in confusion.
"Y'know..." Your mouth opens and then closes again as you try to string together any coherent sequence of words. "Be all… nice to me.”
“Don’t be nice?" Suna's already monotonous voice is impossibly flat as he interrogates you. "Why not?”
“Because you’re you!” you finally snap, exasperated and flustered and wishing more than anything that you could just crawl back into your bed and pretend none of this ever happened.
“Uh, as opposed to…?”
“You know what I mean!” You huff frustratedly.
He looks at you like he really, really doesn't.
“You’re charming and hot and a professional fucking athlete with an eight pack,”--you gesture accusatorially to his naked torso for dramatic effect--“and yeah you’re a little weird, but honestly it’s kind of infuriatingly cute.”
Suna glances down and quietly counts his own abs, seeming genuinely surprised when he finds that you’re not wrong.
“I thought I only had 6,” he says, mildly impressed, as he looks up. “I think you’re cute too, by the way.”
You resist the urge to scream, settling instead for crouching with your head held in your hands.
It's quiet again, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the painful pulse you can feel pounding behind them.
Your voice is softer, more defeated, when you finally do speak.
“You’re you, and I’m me, and we’re us. And us just… doesn’t do nice.”
You hear Suna shuffle towards you, his bare feet appearing in front of your downturned gaze as he crouches in front of you and mirrors your stance.
“Hey, don’t I get a say in any of this?” he asks, surprisingly gentle.
“You can’t really will two of your abdominal muscles away,” you mumble.
“I’m not talking about my abs,” he says, but he can’t help but laugh a little. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that there’s a reason I keep coming over here? That there’s a reason we keep hooking up?”
You blink, pursing your lips. You still refuse to meet his gaze though you can feel it on the features of your face.
“I’m annoying? And surprisingly hard to shake when I’m drunk and propositioning you?”
“Yeah,” he replies simply, “and I also happen to like you.”
You suck in a sharp, wounded breath. “It’s… different for me, Rin. I-I’m worried that I like you more than I should. And I don’t know when it happened, or what to do about it.”
“There you go making decisions all on your own again.”—Suna clicks his tongue admonishingly—“I reply to every single one of your Instagram stories.”
He makes the announcement as if it should clear everything up, though it unsurprisingly does not.
You blink, peeking up at him from under your lashes.
“You’re just always on your phone.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he admits, running a hand through his wet hair and pushing it back from his face. He draws in a little breath and holds it for a moment, like he’s steeling his nerve. “Do you have any idea how often I bug Tsukki for updates on you? How you are, where you’ve been, if you mentioned me? It’s kind of pathetic. I’m pretty sure he’s muted my text notifications.”
You don’t understand.
“Why?”
He laughs, though the sound is relatively mirthless.
“Because I like you. I already said that.”
“You like fucking me,” you argue, hiding your face in your hands.
“No,” he’s exasperated now, and you realize that this might be the most you’ve ever actually spoken to Suna about anything that isn’t, well, directly related to being penetrated by him. “I mean, yeah, obviously. But I also think you’re funny, and have good taste in music, and find it really fucking cute when you text me at two o’clock in the morning trying to start a fight with me just because you want me to come over.”
Terushima did once accuse you of using instigation as foreplay.
“I was keeping things casual because I thought it was what you wanted, not because I thought it was all you deserved.” He ducks closer to you, and gently pries your hands off of your face so you have no choice but to look at him. “I’m gonna say this once to make it perfectly clear: I like you just as much as you like me. Hell, maybe more. You’re free to do with that information what you will, but I just… need you to know.”
He stares at you, hands loosely circling your wrists as he holds them away from your burning face, and you have absolutely no choice but to stare back.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Okay,” you agree.
You’re both breathing heavily, your heartbeat racing in your chest.
Suna looks suddenly quite guilty, his narrow eyes flickering away.
“I really wanna fuck you right now,” he admits breathily.
“I really need to shower,” you say, but you sound almost remorseful. “And I wasn’t lying about having brunch plans.”
“I could come with you,” he offers, his grip sliding up from your wrists to cradle your hands with his own, his fingertips trailing over your knuckles.
“My shower is pretty small…”
“I meant to brunch,”—he threads his fingers through your own and squeezes, accompanying the gesture with a breathy little laugh—“but thanks for thinking of me.”
“Oh,” you mumble, too fixated on how much bigger his hands are compared to yours to offer much else.
Suna groans suddenly, dropping his forehead to your collar.
“You look good in my shirt,” he says, but in spite of the compliment it almost sounds like a complaint. “it’s kind of driving me crazy.”
You thought that you’d pulled on your own oversized t-shirt, but in your hungover, barely-conscious panic you had in fact put on his.
Suna smells like your shampoo when he nuzzles against your throat, and he’s still deliciously warm from his shower as he slumps into you on your kitchen floor. The early morning sunshine streams through the windows behind him in your living room, and your eyes flicker to the bag of coffee you’d abandoned on your counter.
Your fingers gently brush against Suna’s nape, running through the damp tendrils of hair that curl against his neck.
“I… really do need to shower,” you say, though it takes a lot more of your willpower than you’re willing to admit. “But… there will be other brunches.”
Suna pulls back to look at you.
“Yeah?” he asks, a smile playing at his lips that crinkles the corners of his eyes. He’s so close that you can see the single dimple on one side of his mouth, and the faint freckles smattered around the highest points of his cheeks.
“Yeah,” you agree, soft and affectionate.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay,” you echo.
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