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#I didn’t exactly hold myself back on what I thought of these
fictionalmenxyn · 2 days
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¡𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮!
Pt.2
Pairing: Rafe x Reader (strangers/enemies to lovers)
Warnings: language
-❂❂❂-
It was the next day, Rafe wore a white polo with navy slacks. His usual yet more ‘fancier’ outfit. He wanted to look good. Not that he needed to, but he did anyway.
You wore a light grey tank top, with blue baggy jean shorts and your adidas campuses. Topping the outfit off with a small silver chain, your rings and a pair of 2000s sunglasses.
The weather was nice, the suns shinned down on the high school.
You pulled up to school, rock punk music blaring. Your windows down, you pulled into your usual parking spot. Stepping out of your car your friends approached you. Starting up conversations, you leaned on the hood of your car.
Rafe sat in a small wall with his friends. He watched as you lean down to look in your wing mirror, to see if your hair was slicked back. He liked your style, never thought he’d be into a girl who wore baggy clothes. He was used to the tight fitted cali girls.
-❂❂❂-
You sat in one of the vacant music rooms, an empty room besides to small desks that are pressed to the wall. Some broken chairs. And obviously cased instruments.
You had your headphones on, only one side covering your ear. You had your borrowed fender (from your friend, cause she plays drums and had the guitar from her dad). The electric guitar sat on your lap, holding the neck of the fender in your left hand. You strummed the electric guitar to the beat of the song ‘Just A Girl’ by No Doubt.
Rage heard the guitar, he walked towards the music. Peaking into the classroom, to see you.
You sang quietly, not planning on anyone hearing in. “Take this pink ribbon off my eye…”
‘Oh my god, she sounds amazing’ he thought.
“I’m exposed and it’s no big surprise… don’t you think I know exactly where I stand??”
Your head bops as you play, Rafe watched in awe.
“Cause I’m just a girl in the world, a little ol’ me, well don’t let me out of your sight… oh I’m just a girl in the world, all pretty and petit, so don’t let me have any rights, ohhh I’ve had it up to here…”
Rafe muttered “oh fuck…” he watched as you play the guitar. In a world of your own. He watched you to know that he thought it was cool. But didn’t wanna scare you by you knowing he was watching. Not yet anyways…
“Oh I’m just a girl, take a good look at me, just your typical prototype, ohhh I’ve had it up to, here..”
You bop your head, feeling the music, your escape.
“Ohhh am I making myself clear??, I’m just a girl… I’m just a girl in the world, that’s all that you’ll ever let me be…”
Soon after, your strumming dragged, you subtly faded the song out. You turn some of the nobs on the fender.
Rafe thought this was the time to announce his presence. He quietly opened the door and leaned against the doorway. He crossed his arms, “nice play… wish I was that talented…”
You flinched slightly, you looked over your shoulder. “Rafe? What’re you doing here??” He chuckled softly, walking further into the room. “Head the great guitar, so I followed the music, and… it took me right here…”
He sat in the empty desk opposite where you sat. He asked “so? How long have you played?” You looked down to the guitar, you answered “about six years??” He let out a low whistle “damn, sweetheart, you got skills…” you chuckled “thanks…”
He asked “this yours? If so you got good taste…” He gestured to the white and pearl fender. You shook your head “nah, this is my friends, she’s letting me borrow it till I save my cash to get my own…” he took note of that. He nodded “right, you like your music then I take it?” You nodded. He didn’t bother asking what you liked. He knew. Topper and him had a little ‘get together’ so he could learn about you. He knows the majority about you now… or as much as Topper’s sister and Topper knew anyways…
-❂❂❂-
You walked down the hallway, scoffing when Brooks checked you out. You kept walking, heading to science.
Rafe saw the way Brooks checked you out. Rafe didn’t know your past. But the look Brooks gave you said something. He didn’t know what, but it was something. He also didn’t know Brooks had the hots for your sister. Rather than you.
-❂❂❂-
In science, you sat at the middle-left desk. With two of your friends and a random girl that never talked with you. You all had to dissect a frog. In your eyes, there was nothing wrong with that. Come on, it was a part of the educational system. Also, it’s basic nature, you never understood why everyone was grossed out by it. You roll your eyes when you hear the ‘popular’ girls over react to get the jocks’ attention.
Rafe was never grossed out by this stuff. Why should you? It’s already dead, it’s not gonna jump on you. Besides, you had gloves, just had to be careful for any juices that may fly on you. He was known for a slightly ‘bad’ or ‘scary’ reputation. Having thrown wild and obnoxious parties in California. Or the wild stories he’s had. Somehow coming over to Outer Banks. He never knew how half the stories got here, but… they flew over along with him.
He chuckled with the guys when they all saw the way you and your friends acted with the frogs compared to the rest of the girls in class.
He had to hold his laughter back when you flicked some random liquid at the popular girls. Them being over dramatic, when all you actually did was tip water on your hands under the desk and flicked water on them.
You were a trouble maker, a shit stirrer, a good laugh. He liked that. A lot.
-❂❂❂-
At lunch, Rafe had a chat with Jake. Jake mentioned to him about making a deal. One that got him money, not that he needed it. But he liked how it involved getting closer to you, the money was just a bonus. He may even had a plan on how to use that spare cash…
Rage was in. The deal, getting close to you, allowing Gabs to go on dates and go to parties with Brooks. Whatever you did with Rafe, Gabs could do with Brooks. Rafe got spare cash, Gabs got to live the ‘teenage dream’ she wanted to have. Even if the movies hyped it up to much.
This was the perfect time, the school formal was just around the corner. Also a party at the ‘golfer guys’ place.
Well just have to see if you go through with it all…
-❂❂❂-
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koyagifs · 2 days
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Facade of Perfection
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Pairing: san x reader ft. hongjoong au: ceo genre: angst | Summary: San struggles to finalize his divorce not ready to let you go.. warnings: part one
──・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.────
“you know, if you truly wanted the divorce you would signed the papers already,” you said, taking a sip of your wine.
San glared at you, the pen in his hand slamming down onto the table. He leaned back into his chair, muttering nonsense as he took his phone out. Messages of his mistress taking over his screen. You held a smirk on your face, knowing exactly who is blowing up his phone.
“San, I’m tired of this cat and mouse game. Just signed the damn papers so we can get on with our lives.”
San tsk, shoving the papers away from him as he got up. You rolled your eyes, finishing the remainder of your wine. Your phone buzzed, a smile planted on your face as your new lover informed you of his arrival. San notices, his eyes narrowing as he catches the change in your expression.
“who is it this time? Is it Mingi? Maybe even Yunho, knowing you like to whore around with my friend.”
You pause, his venomous words hanging in the air between you. A slow, bitter smile spreads across your lips as you turn to face him fully. "Oh, is that really what you think?" you reply coolly, eyes locking with his.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, San. Besides, you lost the right to care a long time ago.”
His jaw clenches, and he crosses his arms tighter against his chest. "You didn’t answer the question," he spits, his gaze dark and piercing.
“ Is it Mingi? Or Yunho?” He steps closer, voice dripping with venom.
You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I don’t need to explain myself to you," you say calmly, meeting his fury with icy indifference. "The only thing I need from you is your signature."
San glares at you, his frustration boiling over. "You're unbelievable," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "You say you want to move on, yet you keep playing these games."
"Games?" you scoff, raising an eyebrow.
San’s breath hitches as you grip his face, tension between you two crackling like electricity. The memory of that night nearly a year ago washed over both of you —the same bitter dynamic. Yet, this time, theres a finality in the air, a sense that this dance is coming to its inevitable end.
He doesn’t move, his eyes locked yours, searching for any sign of the person he once knew. But you’ve changed, hardened by the betrayals, and now you hold all the power. His jaw tightens under your grip, he stays silent, letting you pull him closer as if daring to respond. You leaned in, a smirk planted on your lips. Hovering by his ear, your voice dropping to a low, chilling whisper.
“ Darling, if this was a game, you would have lost long ago,” you purred.
For a brief second, it’s as if time rewinds, taking him back to when things between you were different—when his touch was welcomed, when your eyes sparkled at the sight of him. His heart pounds against his ribcage, a desperate reminder of what he's losing. His hands twitch at his sides, fighting the instinct to reach out and pull you closer, to relive even a fragment of what you once had.
Your lips hover tantalizingly close to his, and his breath catches in his throat. It’s almost cruel how you know exactly how to undo him, how to make him feel that rush of desire and love that he thought was long gone. For that fleeting moment, he swears he can feel it again: the love, the warmth, the way his world used to revolve around you.
But then, the reality hits. Your eyes are no longer filled with love but with cold determination. The smirk on your lips isn’t one of playfulness but of finality. This isn’t a reunion; it’s a goodbye, and the taste of that realization is bitter.
“You feel that, San?” you murmur, barely above a whisper, your gaze never wavering from his. “That’s the past. And it’s not coming back.” You pull away, leaving a void in the space where your warmth used to be. His heart aches, clinging to that brief flicker of the past, but he knows you’re right.
He stands there, frozen, his hands still hovering uselessly in the air. Part of him wants to fight, to argue, to do anything to reclaim what he's let slip through his fingers. As San hands gripped your waist, pulling you close,
San’s grip on your waist is firm, almost desperate, as he pulls you close. For a fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of the man he used to be—the one who would hold you like you were his entire world. His eyes search yours, silently pleading for some hint of the love you once shared. But before he can say anything, the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat cuts through the moment, shattering the illusion. His body goes rigid, the warmth of his touch quickly replaced by tension. He turns his head sharply, and so do you, to see the source of the interruption.
Standing in the doorway is your new lover, Hongjoong, arms crossed, eyes locked onto the scene unfolding in front of them. A mixture of concern and quiet resolve marks their face as they take in the sight of San holding you so close.
You step back from San’s grasp, the air around you shifting instantly from the charged intimacy to something far colder. “You’ve lost, San,” you say, your voice steady and final. “And now it’s time for you to let go.”
San’s hands fall away from your waist, and he watches as you move toward the doorway. The reality of the situation hits him harder than he expected. He’s no longer the one standing by your side, and for the first time, he truly feels the weight of that loss.
Hongjoong gives San a nod, not in triumph but in acknowledgment of the end of something broken. He extend a hand toward you, and without hesitation, you take it, stepping away from the man you once loved and toward the future you’ve chosen.
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irisinluv · 24 days
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Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2
Part one
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It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.
It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!
“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”
I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.
“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”
And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.
“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”
I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.
“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”
There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.
“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”
Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.
“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”
We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.
The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince… hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.
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When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.
Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.
The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!
As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….
“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”
There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?
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I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.
“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”
“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”
“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”
“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”
“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”
“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”
Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.
While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.
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When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?
Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,
“Good evening, princess.”
He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.
I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,
“What’s that?”
By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.
It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!
It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.
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While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.
“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”
At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.
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Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong… right?
Tag list for the series;
@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight
Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!
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staryuee · 2 months
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NOT SAYING “I LOVE YOU” BACK.
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꒰warnings꒱ not proofread pls don’t yell at me *sniffles*
⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . [char] and you tend to say your i love yous pretty regularly, it’s become a subconscious routine for the both of you; what would happen if either one of you just suddenly didn’t respond?
⠀꒲ ` characters . . . venti, diluc, xiao, tartaglia, kazuha, ayato, alhaitham, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, arlecchino
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . ദ്ദി(。•̀ ᗜ^) drabbles vary in length significantly because…i’m a little unwell with astarion brainrot rn and i will not rest till i get to kiss my beautiful vampiric man — also i apologise for making some of these more angsty than intended…i couldn’t help myself haha
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VENTI — 温迪
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ venti? of all people? not saying i love you to his beloved windblume whom he’d personally resurrect ancient gods for if they asked with that sweet, melodic voice of theirs?
ʚ the only viable reason for him not replying can most likely be bottled down to him being a brat. a spoiled one at that. you give him so much affection it’s a little scary sometimes to think someone just know all of his ins and out as if they held his heart within the palm of their hand meaninglessly. so how do you expect him to be satisfied with a mere phrase when he wants you so desperately?
“i’m leaving for a commission, i’ll be back in a few hours; love you, honey.” you said per routine, fixing your hair in the mirror that stood perfectly near the doorway under venti’s request (he likes seeing how his braids look after you do them in the morning).
what you expected was a reply, but certainly not the one that followed: “alright, bye bye~” venti tilted his head back as his body slinked on the couch, his eyes scanning yours upside down with that look on his face which suggested he knew exactly what he was doing.
“goodbye, venti, i love you.” you re-enunciate, arms crossing firmly over your chest pridefully to mirror venti’s stubbornness that fell immediately upon sight of your pretty face glancing over at his. oh, he really couldn’t resist you for too long.
“i’ll say it back if you stay with me today!” he giggled, teeth on full display as he grinned widely; fully aware you’d indulge him even if for only a little while.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
“windblume…” venti sadly slumped his head on your shoulder, leaving enough space for his eyes to glance at the book in your hands as you continued to read despite his sulking.
“i accidentally packed my schedule full with a flurry of performances…i’m afraid i won’t be able to indulge in your cuddles all day like i wanted to,” he whined, kissing the side of your neck to compensate for the lack of affection he’s going to have to put up with.
really, if he could, he’d pretend all the strings on his lyre magically untuned themselves into havoc if it meant giving an excuse to be back in your warm hold. but as a god of the wind, and one who shared the passions of music no less, it was more or less his duty to share his w with the residents of mondstadt when asked so kindly.
“i promise i’ll return to you soon as i can! no quick stop at angel’s share this time either,” venti managed a chuckle despite the inner thumping of his heart at the mere prospect of returning home to you — an experience he never thought he’d fulfil in his lifetime. “i love you dearly, my darling, i’ll see you soon~”
he leaned over the back of the couch to help reach the side of your face, lips pursing into a fish-like pout as he awaited to hear those beloved words that were always followed by a rewarding kiss. yet you merely hummed in acknowledgement of his presence and his soon departure.
who do you think you are?
venti’s brows immediately knit down together in frustration. “windblume…i said, i love you,” he leaned closer, “sweetheart…come on, say it back!” he finally nuzzled his cheek against yours, trying to elicit some sort of response from you that didn’t border on full on ignoring him. usually that slight uplift of your lips would be enough, but with the additional context that he’d be away from you for so long, venti couldn’t cope with a mere smile!
feeling a little flicker of breeze behind you, goosebumps prickle your skin and a delicate shiver runs down your spine, the little gust of wind disappearing as quick as it came. venti hooked his fingers beneath your chin, delicately forcing your eyes to meet his. “won’t you tell your god you love him?”
those gorgeous and elaborate white wings of his flutter quietly, twitching in anticipation as he excitedly awaits for what he’s been dying to hear. you sigh, leaning towards him to press the most featherlight kiss on the side of his face. “i love you too, now go along already, you’re going to be late.”
R. DILUC — 迪卢克
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ you’ve probably, unfortunately, caught him at a relatively bad time if he had completely ignored your affections. after all, while not necessarily a really active recipient, diluc is more than happy to indulge your carefree “i love yous” and kisses.
ʚ there’s no way he’d ever intentionally ignore or not reply to an “i love you”, especially one that’s so sickly sweet to his ears
“i’m going to bed, luc,” you yawn, arms stretching far out in front of you as you push yourself away from the desk that was littered with several papers stacked on top of each other in various piles that were marked by different pen colours. “you better come join me soon, alright? i love you.”
diluc hums and nods his head, eyes sunken into his skull as his fingers continue flipping the pen within his hand in a sleepy dance as he just barely managed to focus on the words that seemed to squeeze together. none of yours even register in his mind as you sorrowfully close the office door to head to your usually shared bedroom.
it only takes a little while for his brain to catch up to his heart. so that’s why he felt it flutter…
diluc immediately packs away his things to the best of his drowsy ability, hanging up his coat that he honesty forgot he still had draped on himself before he burst into your bedroom rather dramatically. panting from having rushed himself, his arms propping himself up with both sides of the door way, diluc looks away all flushed.
“…i love you as well, i’m sorry for not saying it,” he sighs in comfort as you raise a brow at him, amused at just how quickly he managed to wrap thing ups purely out of guilt that he failed to reciprocate your intentions.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
oh. well…you’ve must’ve had a reason, right?
you wouldn’t just leave right in the morning for a commission, tell him goodbye when he declared his love to you without you repeating the same routine back to him? right?
and yet, you did; and now diluc finds himself in the peculiar position of being overly worried. he has strength, power and stability beyond imagination, but without your affection as fuel, what use are those things?
staring back at the ticking clock continuously, the wet rag in hand helping him clean up some ink that spilled across his hands as a frustrated groan escaped him. what kind of man have you turned him into that he can’t even focus on important tasks merely because you didn’t say a few simple words?
maybe that’s where the problem lies. the words “i love you” always seemed simple to you, something that diluc can admit had found himself jealous of on occasion, so now that he’s absent from something so easy, it’s a little difficult to not overthink the possibilities that the phrase has become harder to swallow for you.
diluc nearly slams his head on his desk at such a thought. he can’t lose his mind over something so silly, it’s fine. you’re both fine.
taking another meandering glance at the clock, diluc’s chair scraped across the wood as he flung on his coat, brushing it clean as he sauntered downstairs with the most grumpy expression dawn winery has seen in a while.
“honey, why do you look so upset?” your sweet voice lured him back into sanity as diluc’s steps immediately calmed down, his eyes widening momentarily as you seemed to return much earlier than expected from your travels. shaking his head, diluc sighs, “it’s nothing, my love — let’s go out for dinner, is that all right?”
XIAO — 魈
not really a surprise, honestly.
xiao isn’t necessarily known for being a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky, super affectionate bunny and as much as he wishes he could just vocalise the song that plays in his heart whenever you meet his eyes, he’s unable to reciprocate your affections in a way that’s satisfactory.
you’ve grown to accept such a fact. xiao, on the other hand, hasn’t. it’s like a little itch for him that he can’t scratch but desperately wants to. doesn’t mean he won’t show his love in other more discreet ways.
there are the subtle things; like the way he ensures your favorite dish is always ready when you come over, how he lingers a bit longer during a goodbye hug almost as if he’s scared to let you go, or the times he’ll simply sit in comfortable silence with you (though, that is common), his presence a quiet yet powerful testament to his feelings.
sometimes, he leaves small tokens for you to find: a flower carefully placed on your doorstep, a hand-written note slipped into your bag that you can tell was written in a hurry due to how sloppy the handwriting looks, a charm he crafted himself hidden among your belongings that he specifically sought the guidance of zhongli from. it's in these gestures that his love for you shines through, even if the words remain unspoken.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
there are times when xiao escapes his shell, and it’s in those quiet moments where you’re both completely alone without even the whistling of the wind to eavesdrop on you atop the comfortable slope of a mountain, that xiao verbally tells you how much he adores you. sometimes a little more poetically than intended, but he hopes his words pass through to you in the form of a flutter.
“…a vow as enduring as the sea and mountains,” xiao mumbled nervously, his hand awkwardly hovering over yours in hesitance before he sucked in a breath and decided to just give in and delicately interlock your fingers. watching as you tilted your head in confusion, xiao looked away and muttered again: “i meant that i love you.”
the silence and the little nod that followed, which was all meant as a little ploy to tease him for being so cute and flustered over a term you didn’t even need to hear on the regular, resulted in xiao’s chest to tighten anxiously. did you not feel the same way anymore? but then again, that devious smile of yours (which xiao could differentiate the style of pretty instinctively) made it certain there was a deeper meaning behind the quiet.
“it's alright," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "you don't have to say anything. i just wanted you to know."
TARTAGLIA — 公子
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ petty petty petty, absolutely done out of pettiness and just being an overall ginger brat.
ʚ you forgot to say good morning immediately after you woke up? haha, what was your name again? aw, you walked passed him on your travels even though he deliberately came over to see you? guess he’s not paying for all your stuff today… (he will, just ask).
one morning, groggy and half-asleep, you stumbled out of bed, forgetting to meekly mumble your usual "good morning, my darling, i love you" as you got up for the day. it was a small and rather insignificant oversight, but not for childe.
later that day, as you wandered through the vibrant streets of fontaine, you spotted his unmistakable ginger hair approaching. waving and smiling at your beloved, expecting some sort of hyper response back, you awaited his towering presence with a hand on your hip. he walked right past you. full on. turning your head with furrowed brows and jaw hung low, you notice that little playful, shit-eating smirk on his lips.
a little confused, you called out to him, "ajax! come back here.”
he turned, feigning surprise despite clearly having seen you (and, unbeknownst to you, having been watching you for the past couple minutes as you checked out several vendors). "oh, it's you. i almost didn't recognize you."
rolling your eyes, you walked up to him. "seriously?” both of you stared at each other in scrutiny, tartaglia fighting back the urge to squeeze you within his arms and whine at you for your negligence while you fought the urge to pull him down by his sunlit strands to coax some sense out of him. “are you mad at me?”
he shrugged nonchalantly, eyes twinkling with mischief you recognised immediately. "hmm, who’s mad? i just forgot who you were for a moment." let’s not mention the fact he has your front, back and side silhouettes memorised to the point he could trace it with his eyes closed expertly.
when you both parted ways, tartaglia making up some excuse that he had to buy some souvenirs for his siblings despite you knowing full well he was just listening to your reprimand from a week ago that he needed respite from being brutalised repeatedly, you found yourself linking pieces of red yarn together internally.
oh he’s just such a little shit isn’t he?
the sun set and bedazzled the sky in golden red hues, you walked back to your shared accommodation and a hefty amount of apologetic snacks filling your bag. normally, when you opened the door, ajax would jump at you. it was obvious from the way he sat leaned back on the couch that he was biting back that urge too.
grinning, you approached him, feeling a mix of amusement and frustration. "you know i love you, right?"
he glanced at you, his expression softening for a moment, god he really missed you so much even if only parted for a few hours at most. "hmm, do you? because i don't recall hearing such a thing in the morning."
you laughed, shaking your head at his childishness. settling yourself next to him, arms encasing around his wounded torso, you muttered a little compromise: "alright, honey. tomorrow, first thing. i promise."
tartaglia finally relented, pulling you into a gentle embrace that led to him exhaling a breath he was holding (probably a subtle way to get his loud heart to stop beating so furiously). "good. i suppose i can forgive you this time.“
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ajax had disobeyed your orders again.
even when being repeatedly asked by friends and his own lover alike, he just couldn’t behave in a way that didn’t result in at the very least, a few scratches and bruises on his freckled skin. it irritated you to no end.
irritation, of course, led to frustration. i mean, when you have to regurgitate the same instructions to someone you adore to death, it becomes exhausting. you didn’t necessarily argue about it, you simply tuned off.
sitting in bed with a book cradled between your fingertips, a mellow tune humming in the background from your vinyl as you soaked in the fantasy you were thoroughly engaged in. none of those things could unfortunately deafen the whines from ajax as he cozied himself up next to you, a silent groan slipping past his lips as he incidentally tore at one of his bandages.
“kochanie…” his nose nuzzled against your clothes as he found himself laying on your warm thighs. “i already apologised for being a dumbass, i swear i love you and i’ll listen to you properly next time.”
he purses his lips into a pout as you ignore him and continue to scan your eyes over the ink. “come on, i love you, sweetheart.” he nudged you, pinching you as delicately as possible but enough to elicit a gasp from you as you finally glance over at him.
“and i love peace and quiet, so if you could, zip it.”
surely you don’t think that was a good enough response for someone as needy for attention as ajax?
“i’m so hurt…” he pitifully grumbled, arms crossing over his firm chest as he continued staring up at you with a gaze that meant “you are not getting out of this”.
“won’t even spare a small kiss for your wounded lover? a hug? a cuddle? even just a whisper of your voice? how am i meant to live—“ you hush childe’s antics by squishing his cheeks together, forcing a fish like pout to form with his lips.
“i love you too, you’re just annoying.”
he’d take that over you fully ignoring him any day.
K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ not possible, thank you next character.
ʚ the only possible way kazuha would ever not indulge your i love yous is when he’s away to a different nation and he sends you a response letter that takes weeks to come to your hands, or if that same letter somehow gets wet or ruined while in transit and his affections get dampened and smudged
ʚ otherwise? kazuha doesn’t see the point in stubborn behaviour. if there’s a problem, though there hardly ever is, he’s under the pretence a couple should talk about it with a clear mind before making a final decision or statement — or in this case, the retraction of affection.
ʚ you’re his map, with the treasure being your heart. why would he ever choose to not tell you he loves you when he gets the chance? you already lack sufficient time with another, and kazuha prefers using the time he does have with you to show you how much he adores you (whatever way that manifest as).
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
kazuha absolutely smothers you in his love. though that usually feels more like you’re resting within the comfort of a sandy beach as soft washes of waves tickle your skin. you’re never short of a supply of affection.
that’s why a devious idea popped into your head. what if you just didn’t reciprocate?
“my heart,” kazuha’s breathy voice popped the bubble that hung over your head. “you’ve been spaced out for a while now, do you need a kiss to help you refocus?” you had to stop yourself from jumping at the opportunity.
“uh, no it’s fine, you don’t have to,” the reply made kazuha raise an eyebrow quizzically. that’s certainly not something he expected to hear especially after not seeing you for a while; but, he’d respect your choice. it’s not like he’s desperate for something so simple, you could just genuinely not be interested.
“hm…alright then, beloved.” he smiled sincerely, head falling to rest on your shoulder as his hand gently rested on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles that mirrored the shape of the moon that cast a glow on you both. “i love you.”
he could’ve sworn he just said he loved you, so why did the winds bellow a response instead? coughing into his hand to clear his throat, thinking that perhaps you just didn’t hear him, he repeated: “i love you, songbird.”
met with silence again, kazuha simply stays quiet. he doesn’t need a reply, that’s not why he says sweet things to you like he’s writing a lyrical sonnet. he tells you he loves you because it helps write the song in his heart that beats whenever he’s near you in a much more coherent way.
K. AYATO — 神里绫人
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ this man oozes with romantic appeal. even if he’s off voyaging to a whole other nation he’ll find a way to not only say i love you, but also to say his good morning and good nights (accompanied with poorly doodled attempts at kiss marks to make up for the lack of physical touch).
ʚ when he’s upset? gods no. he could be frustrated with you to the point he needs a break, and regardless he’ll leave the room with a reminder he loves you. he doesn’t need you getting second thoughts and therefore won’t ever plant them.
ʚ he’s too busy? so? thoma has two hands i’m sure he can handle giving you letters that are merely love notes while he cleans the abode (assuming you and ayato live together separately from where he works…you can imagine how much thoma despises this errand despite his loyalty).
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
“greetings, love,” ayato’s arms slid around your middle, chin coming to rest atop your shoulder as he hums a sweet tune as if he were a bird coming back home to his nest. a rather direct analogy, since that’s exactly the occurrence.
plagued with hours of paperwork and meetings with government issues and secret organisations that god forbid you or ayaka ever found out about, ayato has missed you gravely. if he didn’t know better he’d demand this sort of sin to be classified as a national crime with the sentence being told to stay home with your spouse all day (his literal dream).
now that he’s free for at least a little while, peace alas twinkling within his eyes as they close tightly to enjoy the silence as he clings onto you, ayato does feel like all the pain and ink he went through was totally worth it. if the price he had to pay for holding you oh so tightly is simply meaningless signatures on several documents, he’s willing to waste the entire supply of ink within inazuma — he wants this reward to last as long as possible, after all.
“mm, you smell divine, are you using the flower-scented perfume i sent you the other week? i love it,” he rambled, lips pressing against your nape as you busied yourself with some crocheting, ayato’s eyes opening only to focus on the way your deft hands moved so skilfully. he’d make a comment about how he wished those hands were on him instead, but he had a particular reputation to uphold — and lewd impatient man certainly wasn’t part of it.
“more importantly, sweetheart,” ayato cooed, beginning to trail kisses around your neck and any exposed skin he managed to find, “i love you. so, look at me won’t you?”
merely turning your head to plant a kiss to the side of his jaw in a way of compromise, you otherwise remained silent. “you know,” ayato smiled devilishly, his hand beginning to play with your hair soothingly. “i bought some stuff on my travels recently, a lot of things that are meant for you, of course.”
“i can’t wait to surprise you tonight during dinner.”
that was a threat. maybe not a direct one, but you could recognise the slyness in that man’s voice soon as he mentioned buying “stuff” — things that were definitely substitutes for poison (a little far fetched, but it’s best to assume whatever he conjures up will be the worst thing possible to save yourself the trip to a hospital bed).
“i love you too.” you appeased, and his face immediately lightened, arms returning around you as if finally satiated.
ayato huffs a stifled laugh, quelling your worries with a simple: “i’ll have the staff know you’d like your favourite dish prepared.”
ALHAITHAM — 艾尔海森
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ lowkey, it’s a bit of a 50/50 with him…?
ʚ sometimes, he just genuinely doesn’t hear you. whether it’s because he’s subconsciously disassociating, overstimulated from excessive noise (it’s pretty much canon that he’s autistic, you can’t give me a character that constantly wears headphones and only speaks when spoken to and expect me not to connect the dots) or simply because whatever’s playing in his ears was a little too loud and had managed to drown out your words — these specifics are never intended, and he’s more likely to reply back if you repeat yourself (or give him some time).
ʚ other times though, is simply him teasing you. remember that one scene at the end of the interdarshan festival where alhaitham said, “best things are told thrice” (or whatever the quote was), yeah he commits to that in this scenario too.
ʚ he’ll pretend he can’t hear you just so he can see the sweet frustration in your eyes as you mumble the words “i love you” through gritted teeth. he’ll smirk it off subtly and reciprocate…after a while of course. perhaps when you’re falling asleep on his chest once you’re finally cuddled in bed together, you’ll manage to catch his hushed whisper.
the world was intent on making alhaitham break down today. he woke up without you in bed with him this morning, meaning he couldn’t brush his teeth while next to you as he passed you things that you required to get ready to start the day. from that, none of the foods or snacks he liked were available and the only option were fruits or meals he didn’t like or he weren’t in the mood for.
already feeling irritated and grumpy, him nearly spilling a vase on the books he had perfectly stacked up to binge read as he bumped into the corner of the table could’ve made him bang his head brutally on the wall. this wouldn’t have been a problem if kaveh didn’t place something so fragile and wobbly on something that’s in the way.
alas, when he finally died down for the afternoon, book in hand, a melody passing by his ear as he tried to focus on breathing, all a sudden that irritation just slowly came creeping back. the words on the page squished together like some sort of cartoon from fontaine as they began to make no coherent sense even as he went over every line twice.
to make it worse? you had just come back home.
that sounds bad, but for alhaitham it was a travesty. now he wasn’t able to at the very least embrace you in greeting in fear he’d lash out at the sudden contact. noticing the scrunching of his brows and the way his jaw looked like he’d been clenching it subconsciously for hours, you smiled out of sympathy, knowing from experience that this was most definitely another case of the domino effect of bad shit happening.
“need me to leave you alone for a bit?” you asked as quietly as possible but in an octave he wouldn’t twitch at in frustration.
he shook his head. a little surprising, but you complied with his wish and sat down on the floor next to him as he laid back on the couch as if in an impromptu therapy session. alhaitham held out his hand for you and you gently but surely placed yours on top, a delicate reminder that he was free to express whatever was on his mind when the world finally felt a little more peaceful.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
it’s not like alhaitham really says he loves you verbally, he prefers showing his love to you though actions. after all, actions speak louder than words — what’s the point of telling you he loves you if he doesn’t have the actions to back it up?
but for the sake of the scenario, let’s imagine alhaitham decides to spoil you with one his few vocal affirmations. his hands slowly running up and down the spine of your back, chest rising and falling in slow steady breaths as you burrow yourself into his side. alhaitham was reluctantly reading a romance book that you forcefully recommended him in hopes he’d learn a few things that would make you swoon (despite him doing plenty such things already).
“i love you.” he randomly blurts, his eyes clearly having scanned over the same phrase within the page he was on since he rather quickly skipped past it once your eyes caught glimpse of it. alhaitham is a confident, sometimes arrogant, man — nothing ever truly bothers him when in regards to the words or actions of other people unless they pose a threat to someone he loves.
however, in this case, your lack of words makes his brows scrunch down, bright teal eyes now scrutinising you as you clearly try to hide away a giggle. “don’t you think it’s a little rude to not reply to someone’s confession.” he asks in a monotone voice, attention returning to the words on the page that now seemed irrelevant.
“if you want me to be like the characters in your little romance stories, how about you also commit to that yourself?” a little harsh sounding, but when faced with alhaitham’s pettiness, this is probably the most lenient he’s ever been to anyone.
WANDERER — 流浪者
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ another one that’s not necessarily surprising.
ʚ he likes using the phrase to tease or slander you, if anything. case in point: “oh i love you alright, but that doesn’t mean you get to steal my blanket in the middle of the night.” or “i love you more when you keep completely silent."
“i’m convinced you don’t love me.” ah god, not another one of your little helpless spiels again. this sort of conversation starter would normally set of a warranted number of red flags. in this case, however, both of you understood it was more like the start of a theatrical display of your pettiness.
“right, and why’s that?” scara asked unamused, face not changing from his casual stoicism as he scanned over a possibly illegal book he snuck from the library (and if this conversation goes one way you might just tattle to auntie nahida).
“you slept on the couch yesterday even after i cooked your favourite dish and got you out of that lecture kusanali forced you to attend by pretending we had chores to do,” you list off your good deeds on your fingers, your body sinking next to his on the couch that seemed more like a partner in crime than just a piece of furniture.
scara rolled his eyes. licking the tip of his fingertip to turn the page on his book, he huffed a response absentmindedly: “i do love you, but you just keep pushing me off the bed because of my cooler temperature so i got annoyed — simple as.”
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
‘oh, so just fuck me i guess?’
it’s already so difficult for him to even admit how much he cares for you, so to have such a hefty phrase leave his lips and be left with silence? he’s a little more than pissed.
scara’s eyebrows crunched together, confusion written all over his face at the sudden change in your demeanor. you’re always the first to jump at the opportunity to coddle him soon as his sour lips turn sweet, so what’s with the sudden negativity? the hostile fire that once flickered in his eyes was now replaced by a mournful sadness, and scara couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at a stranger.
his chest tightened in a way that didn’t feel good, and he found himself swallowing thickly, eyes flicking downward to where your hands swirled an ice-filled glass. guilt nipped at scara’s conscience, and he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh.
“what did i fucking do wrong now?” he spits out.
scara tends to take even the slightest joke within your relationship as a direct threat or dig at him. not because he doesn’t trust you, not even because he thinks your relationship isn’t at a secure stage — but just because that’s all he knows. he doesn’t know how to respond to something lighthearted when all that he’s felt so far in his life is extremities.
“hm? what do you mean?” you ask, the teasing tone you took on dwindling upon the quick glance at how his bottom lip jutted out nervously. did everything have to be so irrevocably complicated?
scara shook his head, exhaling a small sigh before he just let the matter drop naturally. he didn’t have time for stuff like this. he’d like to think he knows you well enough to recognise when you’re simply teasing him, but that fact alone isn’t enough to make that ache in his heart go away.
he just needs a minute break. and perhaps for you to sneak into bed with him so you can cuddle him from behind.
LYNEY — 林尼
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
it’s a little difficult for lyney to say the words “i love you” to someone who’s not technically part of his family. he trusted and loved you easily, you cared for his siblings as if they were your own and even gave up your own pride to protect him; but something itching within him tells him he has no right to confess his true ardour.
lyney is nothing but a pawn with a jesters hat, using sleight of hand to remove the idea that he’s deceptive from your mind with a few whimsical flower tricks. it’s hard to allow himself to be so vulnerable and open when he knows full well that if his father found out, the disappointment would be greater than the reward.
when he’s coated in that black circus show getup, his smile broad and stance wide with confidence, he’ll reply pretty easily! after all, he had to please his audience. but, you’re not just a stranger in the crowd. you’re his beloved, someone he waits for before one of his grandeur shows as you press a kiss to his cheek as a lucky charm that he finds himself gently touching as he slowly enters the stage.
but when he’s merely lyney, a lonely kid from the house of hearth who trembles in the comfort of the dark, your mumble of: “i love you a lot, lyney,” makes him replywith a mere widened look as if a deer caught in headlights, his pale face blossoming into a rosey pink hue as he tugged down at the front of his hat to cover his eyes.
“me too.” sometimes that reply is easier and much safer for both his heart and yours than the actual words.
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
lyney adores how easily you find yourself saying such a phrase, even a little jealous at time at both the idea of how many people you’ve uttered it to and the fact he finds himself stumbling over his own consciousness at the idea of confessing his affections back.
he’s also a massive trickster! you pull silly and harmless pranks on each other constantly, from something dumb like switching out a singular chocolate chip cookie to a raisin one to see the astounded look on lyney’s face as he bites down to something a little more sweet like lyney throwing out roses to an audience that coincidentally create a heart.
this is certainly a much crueller prank than any of the above.
lyney was a little jumpy backstage, constantly pacing back and forth with a genuine smile on his face that you’ve rarely seen, his arms constantly stretching out in front of him as he played with the leather of his gloves tediously. lady furina was going to be watching him today, it was no wonder he wanted you to help out!
well, lynette did everything, but you’re here for something lyney said he absolutely couldn’t go without. his good luck kiss.
hearing the familiar sound of the staff shuffling around their props, lyney sauntered to you with a smile as his lips tucked behind his arms innocently. “ma moitié,” lyney hums in a chipper, melodic tune, content at simply seeing your face light up once your eyes meet his, “i’m confident in my abilities as a magician, but i think you have the answer to quelling any of my nerves. care to share some of your magic wit me?”
you grin and tilted your head off to the side, giving him an encouraging thumbs up and a much less motivating: “break leg, lyney, i believe in you.” as much as he wished to coax it out of you, he’d have to unfortunately settle for the way you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.
yet, although he preformed flawlessly per usual, his execution even enthralling the ever critical furina who sat up in the crowd with a leg over her knee, you notice a slight hesitation in his movements, a brief moment of distraction that only you, who knows him so well, could catch. the show eventually concludes to thunderous applause, lyney and lynette taking their final bow as he nearly sprints off once the curtains draw closed.
backstage, as the crowd's cheers still echo faintly, lyney cautiously approaches you with a more serious expression. “[name],” he begins, his tone quieter, more introspective, “did I... do something wrong?”
who knew just the slight lower pitch of someone’s voice could make your heartstrings tug unceremoniously. you know it's time to end this silly prank. shaking your head, you take a step closer. “no, lyney. you were incredible, as always — lady furina seemed exceptionally impressed.” his breath catches in his throat — that’s not really what he wanted to hear. but before he could brush it all off, you interrupt his overthinking: “and... I love you too.”
his eyes widen in surprise, then soften with relief and warmth. “you really had me there,” he chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “you're quite the trickster yourself.”
you laugh, hugging him back tightly. “i learned from the best.”
NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ for neuvillette it’s less about him not saying i love you, but just how convoluted and complicated he can make it seem.
ʚ whether it’s by using outdated poetry and reciting it to you without the knowledge that the terms used completely flew over your head because they’re so old, or doing something that to him is basically more intimate than physical touch like gifting you a piece of jewellery that’s imbedded with a stone most certainly toxic to humans (he got it out of a rift from khaenri’ah when it first emerged and kept it as a little token).
ʚ this man is a dragon, he’s older than the snowy mountains of dragonspine and the deadly primordial sea itself…you can’t blame him for being a little bit over the top and traditional with how he says he loves you.
ʚ it’s all courting tactics! isn’t this what you humans enjoy? no? …maybe he should ask lady furina if she has some plays from the romance genre she’d care to share, perhaps then he could learn a much more modern way of showing his affections.
ʚ he’ll say he loves you if you vocalise you’d just prefer that but…are you sure you don’t also want this embarrassingly cute cup he made to match his dragon form?
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
the more he thinks about it, the sadder he gets. and the sadder he gets, the rainier the heavens become. neuvillette’s pen shifted between several of his fingers as the paragraphs in front of him shifted and blurred continuously.
you didn’t reply to his i love you this morning. straight after waking up he mumbled the sweetest, “i love you,” directly into your ear with that rumbling voice of his, letting his affections linger on your skin as his nose snuggled itself safely against your neck.
and what did he get in response? a small giggle and a, “should we get ready?”
at first, he merely internalised it as a mere misstep on your part. perhaps you merely didn’t hear him, you had just woken up after all you must’ve been feeling a little groggy. that managed to ease his nerves just a little, but soon as you closed the door to his office without a chance for another i love you, he slumped into his seat with defeat.
you humans are tricky creatures and scarily good at making other overthink things that someone should be most confident on.
just the idea that he might’ve done something to upset you enough for you to not want to love him so dearly as you normally do makes the skies weep to match the mourning in his heart. you best come back this instant with your arms wide open unless you want fontaine to flood over.
he may be one of the strongest beings currently alive and awake in the land of teyvat, but his heart is rather fragile when it comes to you.
WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利
꒰ him not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
much to the dismay of wriothesley, he rarely even gets to say he loves you. between managing the fortress of meropide and his countless responsibilities that range from being a guinea pig for sigewinne’s new test trials that she calls food to ridiculous requests from inmates, expressing his feelings often takes a backseat.
you, of course, understand his position, but it doesn't stop you from sending him love letters whenever you can. your letters are filled with warmth, affection, and little anecdotes about your day, hoping they bring a smile to his face during his busy hours — and they certainly do, he adores tracing your handwriting with the back of his gloved hand.
unfortunately, your letters piled up on his desk without being read. despite him desperately wanting to respond to every little i love you, he found himself way too preoccupied with other immediate matters that required his thorough attention. every time he’d open up his drawer to find a new pen to fill out a document with, he’d shamefully glance at the stack of unread papers that were littered with hearts.
each letter was one a piece of your heart — him stashing it away protectively would be a little romantic and rather ironic given his profession, but currently it felt more like he was actively giving you the sentence of a lifetime by withdrawing his affections.
no reply comes for days.
you understand that his duties are overwhelming, but a part of you yearns for some acknowledgment, a sign that your words are reaching him. however, wriothesley is determined to rectify this, he sat down at his desk after the first calm night in a while, pulls out a sheet of paper, and begins to write.
what you receive the next day isn’t necessarily anything grandiose or swooningly romantic — but it was enough; a large bouquet of your favourite roses with a special heart shaped note attached that when you latched it off simply read: “i love you too, sweetheart.”
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
alas, wriothesley finally managed to carve out a free day just for you. spending the day together ultimately meant either a completely lazy morning filled with sloppy kisses shared and your warm bodies all tangled within blankets, or a date where you bask in each other’s presence.
this time, you chose the latter. you needed a little bit of a pick me up and what better than having a romantic outing with your beloved? …where you simultaneously wished to entertain yourself with a bit of mischief. who could get away with teasing the mighty duke if not you?
a day of activities left you a little exhausted, which is why wriothesley decided to share the last few setting hours of the sun by sitting on a comfy blanket near an empty, secluded beach far from the usual hustle and bustle of fontaine.
"thank you for being so patient with me," wriothesley said, his voice low and sincere. "i know it's not easy, but you mean a lot to me."
you reached out and squeezed his hand. "aww, i understand, wrio. i’m honestly just happy we get to spend time together like this at all.”
bringing your interlocked hands up to his lips, his calloused and rough ones ridden with scars and marks that told stories of their own holding yours as if made of porcelain, he pressed a few gentle kisses to your knuckles as he mumbled a sincere: “i love you, [name].”
ah the very words you’ve been waiting to drawl from his lips. stifling a chuckle, you simply smiled and nodded, letting your hand wiggle away from his grasp as your focus drifted to stare at the crashing waves cleansing the shore.
wriothesley's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "did you hear me?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. "i said, i love you."
you nodded again, keeping your expression neutral. “i heard you."
his confusion turned into amusement as both his brows raised in disappointment — were you seriously teasing him right now? wriothesley leaned in appetisingly close, searching your face for a clue for your intentions. "and?" he prompted.
swallowing down another fit of giggles, you titled your head at him all coyly, “and what?”
wriothesley puffed out a chuckle before his skilled hand quickly swooped beneath your knees and atop the small of your back to land you on his lap. “do you think you’re funny?” his muscular and scarred arms closed around your middle, keeping you firmly in place to face your trial.
“a little,” you muse before lifting yourself a little within his grasp, moving in to press a more than welcomed kiss on his cheek. “i love you too, wrio.”
“that’s what i thought.”
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
꒰ her not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
ʚ arlecchino loves you, she really does. but unfortunately for you, you’re not the age of the orphaned children she protects and therefore she finds it useless to constantly reassure you of such a fact.
ʚ surely if you want her to prove how much she loves you, you’d be less childish with it and simply ask for a real heart to be displayed in a glass box? she’s kidding (perhaps), but given the nature of your dynamic, she’s sure you’ve said the words “i love you” in this relationship enough to cover her half of the bargain.
“arle, i love you,” you muse, buzzing around her desk like a never satiated mosquito. yet instead of sucking blood you merely made her wish she had the heart to plug her ears to silence your relentless affection spillage. she wouldn’t dare. but for the love of the tsaritsa won’t you be good and just sit on her lap and remain quiet?
“arlechinnoo…” another whine as you carefully sit yourself on her desk, her pen quickly brushing over lines, the ferocity at which she held it made the point look as if she was scabbing the paper.
“yes, bunny?” she looked off to the side at you, her expression holding an air of royalty that was most likely non existent in her blood, but definitely seemed present in the way she held herself. maybe it was just that natural posture of arrogance?
“i love you…won’t you love me back?”
“my dear,” she placed the pen down and got up, a sight that made the two informants that stood opposite of the room with their heads hung low nervously hunch into themselves. she sauntered to you and encased your body against the edge of the desk, hands on either side of you.
“you’re surely irritating our guests with your constant noise,” that crestfallen expression of yours was something she wished she could wipe, but that sinful, pyre of pride burned within her like vengeance, making her merely tap her hand over your cheek to refocus your forlorn attention.
soon as you tilted your head, her hot breathy whisper mumbled against your ear: “stay quiet and i’ll be sure to spoil you.”
꒰ you not saying i love you back ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹
“i’ve been issued another task within fontaine, do keep yourself out of trouble even though i have little hope you’ll commit,” arlecchino teasingly mused as she nudged your hip with hers while fixing her coat. “i love you, dear — i’ll be sure to send you letters.”
arlecchino is eerily fond of the silence that came after deafening screams. the scarlet stickiness that spreads across her grim face in splatters making her instinctively lick off that sweet residue. but right now, the silence was just a testament to how good she’s been treating you.
if you think you can get away with a silly prank like this as she’s awaiting your response like a puppy begging for a bone, you must’ve forgotten who has the collar and who has the leash.
catching your chin between her thumb and forefinger, she tilts your face upwards to meet her intense stare, stern eyes blazing with naked hunger. "i asked you to not cause trouble while i’m gone, but you’ve already decided to start, have you?”
most people would crumble beneath her shimmering eyes that spoke volumes of violence, yet deeply within your own heart you know she’d carry you over mountains of skulls that crushed beneath her callous heels if it meant getting you across into fairyland.
“admit it - you crave me just as fiercely as i burn for you." she grins before flicking your forehead with her clawed fingertips. “don’t make me repeat myself or you won’t be getting any gifts from me when i return.”
that’s the real threat you were waiting for. leaving a featherlight goodbye kiss atop her lips, you smartly respond: “i love you too, and don’t forget my favourite cake!”
she rolls her eyes, finally letting you go. “wouldn’t dream of it.”
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©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ
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satorena · 10 months
Text
✮⋆˙ PUSSY FAIRY ON THE WAY !?
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featuring. g. suguru x fem!reader
warnings. explicit content, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, fwb!reader, phone sex, fingering, squirting, reader has a vagina and tattoos on her fingers.
rena’s note. based off the line “i touch myself just thinking about you” 🌬️
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11:45pm: *2 photo attachments*
11:45pm: missin’ my pretty girl
it was almost painfully embarrassing how easily aroused two simple pictures could get you. it didn’t take much for your cotton panties beneath your oversized tee to get damp with slick, squeezing your thighs together to stimulate some sort of friction.
you stared for god knows how long at your phone screen, the bright light illuminating a mean and girthy dick you’re all too well accustomed to. its brown tip raging red and leaking pre come you’d familiarize yourself with. the bulging veins on the underside of his shaft peeked through sensitive skin, mimicking the veins on the owner’s hands and wrists.
simple details on the man, such as rings and bracelets and beauty marks and an oozing tip, had you licking the tip of your fingers before slipping them past your panties, meeting your bare pussy, flinching at the contact and chilly breeze of your bedroom.
“fuck,” you sighed, head thrown back into the pillow. you performed circles at your clit, teasing yourself with your light touches.
this was exactly how suguru had his way with you. he took his time—though he preferred using his tongue but that wasn’t exactly an option as of right now— by thumbing at your clit and watching you unravel and crumble at his touch.
you mimicked your thoughts, the attention at your bundle of nerves sending blissful shockwaves throughout your limbs. your thighs squeezed together from the pleasure, and you recalled that suguru would have forced them open and made you take it like the good girl you are.
your hole clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled with what couldn’t be provided at the moment. soft whines came out your throat while you ground your hips up, subconsciously chasing your own hand in need of more pressure.
so lost in yourself, your screen dimmed, noting it would soon shut off, before pinging once more at a newer notification.
11:49pm: left on read huh…
11:50pm: don’t tell me you’ve started without me mama?
you don’t even bother trying to reply, knowing he would ring up your line in a few. good, you could use his voice in your ears while getting off, after all— suguru had officially ruined you for anybody else.
as expected, your phone buzzed in your hand and you swiped the call eagerly, pressing it on speaker before resting it on your chest.
“suguuu,” you greet him, bottom lip stuck in between your teeth. your other hand goes to slip under your tee, and grasp at your bare chest, groping firmly at the tender mound.
“you kept me waiting,” he chuckles, though you notice it’s breathy, as if forcing it out. you hear shuffling, and he heaves out a sigh, “missed you, pretty.”
“mhmm, missed you more,” you intensify the pace on your clit, fuzzy sock-cladded toes curling from the building pleasure. “need you here, sugu,”
you mewl his name, the nickname rolling off your pink tongue and into your phone speaker. the neediness behind your tone had him groaning, cursing out a ‘fuck’ and suddenly the sound of fapping grew consistent.
“oh yeah?” he tries, tries, to come off cocky but he’s just as needy as you are. perhaps even more, as the hold on his cock tightens. “tell me more baby. what else?”
you figure it’s finally time to focus your attention on your folds, which had soaked up your cunt and sheets beneath you the minute he called. your index and middle finger graze at your lips, and you whine at the sensitivity.
“want you here,” you moan, rubbing figure eights at your your folds. you stimulate your cunt in a familiar pattern, the same way suguru always worked on you. “w-want your fingers deep in my pussy, fuckin’ me open and—hah, making a mess outta me—need it suguru!”
“shit baby,” he chuckles, though muffled, as you fail to notice he’s got the hem of his wife beater tucked in between his teeth. “want me to tell you what i’d do to you if we were together?”
“yes!” you beg, unashamed as your back arches off the surface of your bed. your limbs felt liquified and there was something about his voice that had your pussy glistening terribly.
“mm, well,” he begins, his thumb grazing over his slit as he pictured you doing a million times. “i’d start off with kisses at your thighs. y’love it whenever i bite, dont’cha? love it when i mark you as mine, hm?”
you nod your head, despite the fact he can’t see. “always sugu, feels so good!”
“and when i get sick of teasing myself, i’d push your panties to the side and kiss your pretty clit,” geto sighs, almost in a trance by his own words. they roll of his tongue so naturally, stomach clenching as he imagines the things he’d do to you if he was able to.
“kiss your pretty clit before playing with it. i know it drives you—fuck—crazy. yeah, it drives you crazy and you love to act like you hate being teased, but baby, your pussy tells me otherwise,”
he spoke so sinfully in your ears, soft voice being a major contrast to the intense words that left his mouth. it churned deep in your guts, sending butterflies with a mix of straight arousal.
“i do— fuckin’ love it—” you cut yourself off, the hand on your breast tweaking with the stiff bud, twisting and pinching at it.
“you fingering yourself yet?” he asks you, and you shake your head, humming a soft ‘uhn uhn’, he continues, upping the pace of his own jerking, “good girl—get your tatted fingers in f’me, wanna hear your pretty pussy speak to me.”
“o-okay” you comply to his order, easing the void of emptiness by sliding your middle and ring finger inside your clenching pussy.
you moan loudly at the intrusion, the stretch nothing close to suguru’s fingers, but still enough to satisfy you for the time being. you feel your soft walls clench around your digits, begging for more. at the wet squelch of your cunt, you hear geto chuckle through the phone, “there we go, my favorite language.”
“wish you were here sugu—hnng, need you here and—and takin’ care of me!” you voice out your thoughts, your fingers gradually picking up their pace and plowing in your insides.
“sugu’s being mean, isn’t he? ‘m sorry baby, for not doin’ my—shit—job,” geto apologizes, the sound of his lubricated cock being jerked resonating in the depths of your ear drums.
“match my rhythm, mama,” he instructs you to follow, and despite you being so deep in your own thoughts and moans, you focus on the faint sound of his fist chafing his dick.
and so, your fingers plunge in and out your wet core, pussy gushing slickness, just to please geto.
“that’s it—my good girl, mmh, always doin’ so perfect.”
his praises did wonders to your body, as you felt an oncoming orgasm approach. your gut heated and tightened into a familiar coil, and your thighs threatened to close in on your hands.
“sugu, baby, ‘m getting close!” you warn him, now roughly grabbing at your other boob that lacked attention.
“me too, pretty girl—me too,” he grunts, the pace of his jerking increasing greatly. he works up and down his length with two hands and purpose, breathing heavily and watching his abdomen contracting tightly.
“play with your clit,” suguru breathes out, a whine escaping his throat momentarily. you moan at the unexpected sound, and he continues, “please baby—play with your clit f’me”
he begged and fuck, you’d never felt yourself be so attracted to his voice the way you did right now.
“feels’good” you slur, drool pooling at the corner of your parted lips. you multitasked with toying at your puffy clit with scissoring your cave, the drag of your fingers and stimulation of your bundle of nerves opening the dam.
“cummin’ sugu—hnng, fuck, oh fuck!” you cry out, far too loud as you release on your hand. your juices spill and you drip down to the crack of your ass, down to the sheets, soaking up your panties and mattress.
you continue to fuck yourself as best as you could despite your body jerking at the sensitivity, thighs quaking and back arched off the bed.
“r-right behind ya princess—oh fuck y/n” you hear his voice break as he shoots his load onto himself, his pretty moans all in your ears. he sounded melodic, your name belonging on his tongue as it sends tingles all over your nerves.
after a few minutes, your high comes down, and you slowly pull your fingers out of your pussy, wincing at the contact. geto’s gone quiet, safe for the panting on the other side of the phone, most likely attempting to ground himself from his own orgasm.
you clench your thighs and jolt at the sensitivity. your skin felt clammy and sticky with your arousal, and your bedroom now smelled of your sex. you miss suguru’s scent, and how much differently your sheets would’ve smelt with him in it.
“taste yourself for me,” suguru speaks up, breathless.
you do as he says, bringing your fingers up and wrapping your plump lips around your digits. you moan softly, before giggling cutely when you hear the man groaning in desperation.
“quit makin’ me jealous,” he sighs, the words almost coming out like a whine. “nothin’ gets sweeter than your pussy, swear on everything.”
you can only think of a simple solution for his complaints. you shrug, popping your lips off your soaked hand, “pull up on me then.”
the line goes quiet for a bit, and you can practically hear the arrogant smirk on his face, which only makes your lips tug into a similar smile.
“your fine ass better be ready for me in ten.”
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mind you this is a canon moment between me & him 🫦
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chastiefoul · 6 months
Text
—finally giving up on your unrequited love ft. alhaitham
a/n: ouch i hurt myself writing this. wc: 1.6k words of yapping about unrequited feelings
once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.
it seemed like a blessing once, like acceptance. the slightest open of the door, thinking you could invite yourself in and he’d embrace that fact. but as his apathy remain constant and unchanging, you’ve come to realization—an embarassing one at that.
that indifference, that should’ve been a sign for you; alhaitham will never return your feelings.
-
 a stroll a day, keeps the stressful thoughts away.
however today’s walk is just not doing it for you, once you decided to wake up from the dreamland you thought you’ve been living in. a faraway and unrealistic vision of a life where you end up together with the akademiya scribe. an exaggerated sigh escaped you at your own daydreaming. usually by now you’d be quick on your feet to visit the scribe, however the overdue revelation you had last night made you finally think twice before doing it. and only because of that now you’d realized just how much of your life was centered on the grey-haired man, which was a scary discovery, knowing just exactly how little you mattered to his.
you found an empty bench mid-walk, immediately sitting on it. you leaned back, both of your hands holding your weight as you look above. the sky was clear that day, but your mind was clearer, as if a thick fog has finally been lifted.
seriously, what have you been doing all this time? giving your all to someone who wanted none of you. alhaitham’s curt nod, his brief and short responses really should’ve been a clue as to how he felt about you. yet you kept being stubborn, and sometimes hope was human’s greatest enemy. what should have been a bare minimum gesture he did, your mind managed to twist it into something more; clinging to it like a water on a desert. when it turned out that was exactly all there was to it—a mirage.
you chuckled sadly. even remembering those pathetic displays, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully regret having this feeling towards alhaitham. those moments where you’d steal a glance at him and felt like the world was okay. you would not allow yourself to forget that as you became more selfish, wanting him to look at you and feel the same. but here you were, reluctantly learning to accept the fact that he may never does.
suddenly a shadow loomed over you, shielding you from the sunlight you didn’t realize was so bright.
a familiar blond invaded your vision. “(y/n)?” he called out unsure, not expecting you to be there. “oh hi there, kaveh,” you lightly said, as if your heavy train of thoughts hadn’t existed at all. you adjusted your sitting position, shifting yourself to the side as you spare an empty spot beside you for him to sit. kaveh swiftly took your silent offer up, making himself as comfortable as he could on the wooden bench. “i spotted you from afar and you seemed a little troubled, hopefully i was wrong?” the ever so kind kaveh spoke up, and you couldn’t help but smile. kaveh always felt like a friend more than alhaitham ever was, albeit knowing him after you got to know the scribe. you weren’t even sure if the grey-haired man would ever mention even a word about his roommate if it wasn’t for you hanging wround on his office on a peaceful lunch break when the fuming blond barged in and yell at him about a key.
as it turned out, it’s a known fact that most people became quiet irritable when it comes to being in contact with the curt and aloof scribe, since kaveh has been nothing but a good friend since the day he gave you a weird look about wanting to get close to the acting grand master.
“it’s kind of complicated to say,” you started, thinking of the words as you went on. “let’s just say i’m having a quite bittersweet moment.”
you rested your gaze on the bustling street in front of you. he nodded in reply, “i’m guessing it’s more bitter than it is sweet?” he asked genuinely as you smiled once more despite not feeling a drop of mirth. “i suppose so,” you replied curtly, not knowing what to say to his keen observation. keen and exactly correct.
it’s the kind of bitterness that lingered. a kind of flavor you’d expected, since you’re the one who put it in. still, when that sharp taste hit your tongue you couldn’t help but flinch. after all, things don’t stop affecting you even though you saw it coming from miles away. you just hoped the sweetness will get stronger overtime, overpowering as it wash down the unpleasant aftertaste.
kaveh mirrored your smile in return except his looked particularly patronizing, as if he could sense your helplessness.
“will you tell me what happened?” his voice sounded gentle, a care you’ve never heard from the man you’d give a limb to for him to say things along that line. how do you even begin to answer such a simple question? nothing happened, and that’s why it was the problem. the fact that you’re the only one who’s mulling all over this, being so conflicted to what he thought must be nothing. a pain so overwhelming that’s swirling all over your chest while his biggest inconvenient that day was probably a typo made in a document made by a lousy student.
the whole thing just sounded so... pathetic.
“nothing happened... it’s just, i have decided to finally give up on something,” you try your best to sound nonchalant despite having no bravery to look at him, scared that he didn’t look like he believed you.
“well, i might know a thing or two about it. sometimes when an architecture project is too... unreasonable,” kaveh paused, the word tasted like a sour lime on his mouth. “there’s no way but to give it up. especially if you take a step back as take the whole picture from many aspects; in my case, there are budget, location, materials, and so on. there would definitely be some regret about letting go especially an ambitious task, however i think many of my past-self would really like to give the present-me a big gratitude for not forcing it through,” he rambled on, despite having no idea what were you referring on. “even sometimes, the reward was just not worth the risk, you know?” he ended it at that, throwing the question at you.
you swallowed on nothing, but you needed that to let out a reply.
“yes, i do know.”
“yeah? does this mean in your case, whatever you were fighting for was not worth it in the end?”
oh, that’s the worst part. you knew, you knew it with your heart, body and soul that it would be so worth it if there’s an outcome, a scenario where alhaitham might return your feelings. oh it would be so worth it. you could smile, just imagining how worth it would it be.
but that was all it was. an unattainable imagination. an ending that you couldn’t allow yourself to be so cocky to reach.
kaveh waited for your respond patiently, but when the silence had gone for too long he moved his stare to you. he widened his eyes, his gaze softened.
“i don’t think you’re as okay as you made yourself to be,” he said softly, as you felt your cheeks wet by the uninvited tears, running along freely across your face. yet, you couldn’t make an effort to stop them, your heart knew more than anyone you needed that. to feel the sadness, to recognize it.
to let go of the fact that alhaitham will never return your feelings.
kaveh was just quiet as you sobbed quietly, putting a handkerchief silently at the space between you both. there is no empty consolation, no comforting words, no small pats on the back. there’s just silence, a little safe bubble for you to cry in without people coming over to you and asked why.
giving up is such a funny thing, how could doing it hurt more than to keep trying even though you received no sign of reciprocity at all? but you knew the answer of that.
when there hasn’t been a rejection, it’s in everyone’s nature to have hope. a hope that there’s a chance of obtaining something you’ve wished for. a chance that something could happen.
giving up means finality. a state of accepting an outcome you hadn’t wanted. a result you never asked for. an ending where all that’s left was what should have and what could have. a harsh reality people could only accept as it dangled the possibilities and visions of what ‘could have happened’ if you’d just kept trying right in front of your eyes.
like chasing your own shadow; a fun thing to do when you’re a child, but now it’s just a fitting metaphor, reminding you of a fool’s way who love in such a pathetic way.
-
once upon a time you were grateful for alhaitham’s indifference, the lack of anything he was being when you’re badgering him with chatters, a detailed description of your day, concerns over him, and the occasional gifts.
but now it’s definitely a curse. after all, anything that has to do with love was not indifference.
it was never, indifference.
---
the urge to write this in alhaitham pov........................ should i?
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celesteleoves · 2 months
Note
Request for Izuku coming to the readers dorm because he needed them to patch him up because training was tough and he decided to not go to recovery girl for some reason(basically just a patching up fic w izuku😭)
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“NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN, I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HER.”
ೃ࿐ izuku midoriya x reader.
summary: what the ask says :)
disclaimers: established realtionship, izuku is silly…. mentions of bones being broken/other injuries, that’s all i believe! reader is kinda suggested to be female…
a/n: AWWW this might be my favourite ask yet! thank u 🤍 i hope i wrote this exactly to your liking.
—-
izuku hated relying on others. he never liked being a bother, even to those who insist he can always go to them if he ever needs anything). it’s one of his flaws, he thinks.
carrying the weight of one for all on his shoulders constantly was a reminder just how much he needed to learn how to be more independent. the broken bones, harsh sparring with his classmates, recovery girl visits. he really needs to learn how to patch himself up…
currently, he sat in his own dorm. groaning to himself as he moved slightly, muscles incredibly sore. the boy slowly lifted his shirt up, revealing the bruises and small cuts he received after training for hours. as he lifted his hands up to brush his hair back, he got an idea. a very smart one!
“she wouldn’t be too mad, right?” izuku mumbled to himself as he sluggishly stood up, making his way to your dorm.
the walk was long and treacherous (it’s a minute walk). as izuku finally stood in front of your dorm, he thought about your reaction. you are a very caring person. you’ll definitely be easygoing about this!
-
“are you kidding me izuku?!” your jaw dropped at the sight of your disheveled boyfriend who only smiled sheepishly. you immediately turned into scolding y/n mode, rambling on and on about how he should take it easy.
“i knew you’d be a bit mad… i’m sorry.”
your boyfriends words made you falter in your speech as you took in the weight of the situation. he had simply gone too far in training.
instead of going to someone else, he came to you? the thought made you frown in a caring matter. you looked at him closely. his eyes glistened, looking like he’s more hurt about your reaction instead from his own wounds. his white shirt had splotches of grass and dirt on it. you couldn’t help but feel responsible for your lover in this moment. you knew he only worked hard to be stronger for you and himself.
“come in, no- don’t lay on that. your shirt is covered with dirt. take it off!” you spoke to him in a exaggerated tone.
izuku froze in his movements, thinking about what you just said to him. he’s not in middle school anymore, why is he getting flustered right now?! izuku curses teenage hormones for existing.
rather too quickly for his liking: izuku’s face flushed and he nervously toyed with his shirt, “take it off?!”
“yes. babe.” you looked at him with a puzzled expression, holding a small first aid kit in your hand (you made it for izuku at the very start of the school year after learning that he often injures himself). “i need to see where your hurt.”
“oh… right!”
it took him a minute to compose himself, his shyness taking over as he carefully took off his shirt. the act made you almost want to laugh as you’ve seen him without a shirt on multiple occasions.
your giggly mood was completely knocked away when you took in the sight of a rather red slash on his lower abdomen.
you moved towards your boyfriend who sat against your bed frame, legs spread as if anticipating you to settle yourself in between them. that’s exactly what you did.
“whoa, what the hell happened here?”
“landed on a piece of rock while jumping… scratched myself. i already did hydrotherapy like you said, i didn’t have the materials to do anything else though.”
you hummed at his words, picking up a antibiotic and placing it on izukus wound with your right hand. he hissed at the sting and you rubbed his side with your left hand in an attempt to comfort him. it worked. izuku relaxed at the feeling of your touch on his skin.
the room was quiet, lights slightly dim, as you worked. placing gauze and then bandage around his abdomen, wrapping it twice for good measure.
you looked up, softly grabbing your boyfriends face and turning it left to right.
izuku stared at you with his bright green eyes and you blushed under his stare. you felt him toy with the bottom of your top, fiddling with the material.
“stop distracting me, i’m trying to check for cuts.”
“sorry! you’re just so pretty… and a really good doctor.”
you let a grin and cackle slip at his words. he laughed at your reaction, watching you carefully as you stood up. you moved towards your wardrobe and opened a drawer. izuku tilted his head in wonder, what were you doing?
you pulled out a shirt and a pair of pj pants. izuku intrigued at the items. those were both his, when had he put them in your drawer?
“oh, you left them after you slept here. i just figured i should give your stuff its own drawer.”
izuku hadn’t realized he spoke out loud and he only stared at you in silent shock. you were too good for him.
you tossed the clothes towards him as he rested against your pillows, staring at you in adoration.
“what?” you plopped down beside him, nudging his bicep as he looked down at you.
“you’re too good for me. thank you.”
you lit up at his loving words. if there was one thing izuku was perfect at, it was making you feel loved unconditionally no matter what.
“oh stop, you’re too good for me.”
“we could argue about this for hours, just accept it.”
“um no! everyone knows you’re too good for me.”
“i’ll start rambling about you if you don’t stop.”
“… and who says i wouldn’t like that?”
izuku paused, a grin slowly creeping up on his face at your serious expression.
you cracked, turning into a laughing fit and he laughed with you, holding you in his arms. the pain that he felt in his muscles not too long ago had seemingly faded away as soon as he held you in his embrace. your warmth and love felt as though it healed him.
izuku hated relying on others. but, he knows no matter what — you’ll always make sure he knows he can rely on you for anything.
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luveline · 6 months
Note
could I request a Remus fic where he’s known and liked reader for a while and she’s recently had a glow up and is skeptical about her newfound attention? you don’t have to tho thank you <3
ty for requesting !! fem
You’re a cloud of dainty perfume as you flop down beside him. “That’s so weird.” 
“What’s weird?” Remus asks, half-paying attention to you, his other half trying to finish the sentence he’d been reading. 
“There was a boy at the front of the cafe trying to open the door for me even though I was already opening it myself, and then he, like, stood there holding it for a bit after I’d already come in.” 
“Is it possible,” Sirius butts in, because of course he does, a cigarette between his fingers unlit, “that he was flummoxed by your beauty, lovely girl?” 
You drive your face into Remus’ arm. “Not this again.” 
“You’ve always been beautiful,” Sirius concedes, unaware or unaffected by your bashfulness, “but lately you’ve got quite the glow. I’ve been trying to hook you for weeks. Haven’t you noticed?” 
Remus smiles at his friend, digging in his jacket for a lighter to throw him. Sirius opens his hand and catches it gracefully. “She’s always been beautiful,” he says agreeably. 
“Be back in a minute.” 
You lift your head only after his footfall has faded away, gaze first at the window where Sirius has gone to smoke outside, and then the table where Remus is laying his book to rest. “I can’t stand him when he does that.” 
“Does what?” 
“Acts like I’m prettier than I am.” 
“When does he do that?” Remus asks, not quite monotone but getting there. 
“You know what I mean.” 
“Do I? You’re lovely, and Sirius can’t not notice because he’s Sirius.” 
“Can’t not attribute every weird man’s behaviour to my change in appearance.” 
“You’ve changed,” Remus acquiesces. “And boys notice you more, but I think that’s more to do with your sudden propensity for smiling and walking around with your chin up than any haircut or lipgloss.” 
“Oh, quite right, professor.” 
He pinches your thigh, savouring the laugh that bubbles out of you and your little jump in your seat. “You’re a trollop, is that what you want to hear?” he asks. 
Your face falls to your chin, and yes, Remus has liked you almost since he met you, and yes, your recent change in appearance has made you more eye-catching, but he means it when he says the pull of your demeanour is your new confidence. You’re stunning, the smile you give him, that hint of brightness in your eyes as you start to squint, it yanks sorely between his lungs. He wants to kiss you now more than he ever has before. 
“You really think he held my door ‘cos he thought I was pretty?” you ask. 
“I didn’t say that, did I? Sirius did.” He stands and stretches, feeling bold but not brave. “I think he held your door because you’re the most beautiful girl in any room you walk into, but what do I know?” he asks, grabbing his empty coffee cup from the small table in front. “I’ll get you a coffee.” 
“You dick,” you mutter. Such a short sentence, and yet he can tell you’re flustered without turning around to see it for himself. 
It’s a good thing —if he were to see you now, your shy smile, he’d end up telling you exactly how he feels about you. 
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mypoisonedvine · 6 months
Text
𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)
read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!
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Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.
He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking.  You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.
That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you.  Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?
Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer.  Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.
But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue.  Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.
I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…
He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably.  And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you.  Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?
And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.
As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.
“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud.  “You want it, baby?  It’s all fucking yours.”
He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier.  Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.
You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off.  It was still true, but more specific than necessary.  He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too.  But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.
“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now.  It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.
He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…
His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm.  “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”
He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close.  Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge.  His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.
It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment.  The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.
His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you.  He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.
When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.
No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.
It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind.  After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers.  (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)
Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless.  He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.
Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.
He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.
Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut.  As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.
Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention.  “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.
“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”
The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.
For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you.  He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual.  Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.
Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake.  Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.
The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.
Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top.  Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.
“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”
“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not.  Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter.  “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.
“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized.  “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”
“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”
“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”
The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.
“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile.  Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next.  “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”
He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion.  “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”
“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.
Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered.  “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh.  “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”
“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.
“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away.  He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned.  “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”
Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away.  The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.
He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you.  You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling.  But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.
Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.
Is this what love feels like?
//
It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more.  Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?
But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you.  Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders.  Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—
Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.
You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him.  Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.
For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz.  It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.
Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent.  His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough.  Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party.  Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.
And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you.  He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.
“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed.  “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”
He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away.  “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.
“Tell me what?”
“You remember Brian Stevenson?” 
“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur.  “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”
“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.
“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously.  “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”
“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed.  You nodded.  He looked away.  “Right— that’s… cool.  That’s cool.”
You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden.  “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”
“Right,” he interrupted sharply.  “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know.  That it wasn’t anything.”
“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.
“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen.  “Did you even mean that?”
“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously.  “That’s… that’s just something people say…”
He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you.  He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.
“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.
“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor.  “Don’t lie to me anymore.”
“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.
“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply.  “It’s— you know, it is what it is.  It was just one of those things.”
“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded.  He didn’t.  And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.
“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.
“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.
Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands.  That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad.  Not devastated.  Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.
It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun.  You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.
//
It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party.  Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail.  There was a lot more alcohol, though.
You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on.  Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.
Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back.  “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him.  Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up.  It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable.  He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.
You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race.  Who, after all, would he be racing against?
For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably).  He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.
Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly.  “Who’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”
You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.
Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.
“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious.  Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even.  You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.
“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.
“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him.  “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”
“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again.  “Fucking idiots…”
Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you.  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.
“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?
Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.
“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.
“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.
“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.
“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.
A brief moment passed.  “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.
“Jesus,” you hissed.
“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained.  “We were so good together.”
“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”
“No— it’s not.  It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.
“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced.  “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Damn right I’m not!” he spat.  “You’re all I could think about, for months!  Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head!  And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything.  Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”
“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.
“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you.  “Does he make you feel special?  Does he make you come?”
“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay?  I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”
“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you.  But… but what about me, y’know?  He doesn’t need you like I do.”
Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.
“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t?  But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you.  I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid!  You’re my dream girl!”
“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain.  “That’s a fantasy!”
“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side.  “It’s so real, you know it is.”
You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that.  You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.
And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless.  He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian.  You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.
He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other.  You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment.  Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.
Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so.  But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did.  And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.
//
You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement.  You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him.  He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?
“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.
“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.
“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.
He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.
“It was a mistake,” you decided.  “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go.  And if you didn’t tell Brian.”
“Okay,” he nodded slowly.  “I wasn’t gonna tell him.  But I still think you should dump him.”
“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.
“I know,” he breathed.
You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.
“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened.  “I fucking love you.”
“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.
“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded.  “I know how I feel, okay?  When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”
You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench.  Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.
“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed.  “You love me too, don’t you?  I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it?  It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”
“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”
He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again.  “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”
“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained.  “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”
“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this.  I want to really be together,” he replied.  You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again.  “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”
You shook your head.  “No, you can’t do that.”
“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized.  You smiled, but shook your head again.
“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.
He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground.  “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”
“What?!” you blurted out.  “Angus, no—”
“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms.  “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown.  You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”
“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”
“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.
Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment.  “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little.  “You can do a lot better than a state school.”
“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously.  “My grades are kinda… inconsistent.  And I went to so many different high schools—”
“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed.  “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here.  You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”
He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.
“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him.  “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”
For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face.  “Wait— is that what this is all about?”
“What?”
“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.
You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him.  Instead of answering directly, you just stammered.  “Well, y-you’re young, and—” 
He cut you off quickly with a laugh.  “Oh my god!  You think I give a shit about that?”
“No,” you shot back, “but you should.  You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge.  “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with?  What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without?  Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”
“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently.  “It’s your first love.  It fades.”
“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen.  “God, I don’t want it to.”
You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before.  In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact.  It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.
When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.  “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please.  Tell me it’s not going to end.”
“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest.  “It has to end, someday.”
You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.
“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.
Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.
There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end.  And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good.  That hope had only ever led to pain before.  But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.
So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday.  Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings.  Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave.  Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless.  Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.
Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive.  Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again.  Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.
The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter.  It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful.  He loved you.  Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special.  His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.
When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away.  “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it.  You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable.  After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.
Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different.  I trust you.  I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try.  I’m sorry.  I’m so glad I met you.  I’ll never forget you.  Please don’t let me go.
Somehow, you felt like he heard each one.  Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.
//
Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long.  You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.
The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets.  Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels.  You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.
Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.
“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.
Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh.  “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.
“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.
“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed.  “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not,” he shrugged.  “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”
“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much.  “Not here.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even.  You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee.  After a few moments, though, you spoke again.
“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”
“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave.  You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass.  Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.
When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside.  Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.
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sun-kissy · 18 days
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still here | r.l.
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summary: it's your birthday :(
a/n: this is the first time i’ve ever really cried when writing something, it’s got a home in my heart now and i hope you like it!! 🫶 (also listen to our lovely girl billie while reading for added heartbreak)
tw: past suicide attempt
You lean back on the couch from where you’re bending over the table. Remus wastes no time in wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. He gently presses his lips to your forehead. “Happy birthday, lovely girl.”
“Thank you,” you mumble half-heartedly, grateful but too overwhelmed to show it. 
There’s a cut-up chocolate cake in front of you, which Remus had insisted upon baking. He’d honoured your wishes not to throw a big bash, and of not wanting an actual present. He didn’t exactly understand why — but he loved you too much to not do what you wanted him to; birthday or not.
Guilt weighs heavily on your heart; Remus has been kinder than you deserve. You decide to help him understand.
“You know,” you start softly, tilting your head to lay it on his shoulder. He hums in acknowledgement, fingertips grazing your sleeve as he starts to rub your arm. “I didn’t think I would last this long.”
The shakiness in your voice surprises even you. You feel Remus’ hand still on your arm. 
“What?” he murmurs. You can’t decipher if the slight lilt to his voice is because of sadness or confusion.
“I didn’t think I would last this long,” you repeat quietly, just to be safe, and you feel his hand coasting across your back as he gently grabs your shoulders. He turns you towards him, and you don’t wait for him to ask before you start to explain. “When I was 13, I couldn’t imagine ever making it this far. I tried to kill myself.”
Remus’ eyes widen the slightest bit as he takes in your sudden admission. His grip on your shoulders doesn’t falter; and it’s like you both know he’s the only thing holding you upright. 
When he doesn’t respond, your gaze immediately drops to the couch, shame clouding your eyes.
“I… I didn’t know that.”
The crack in his voice makes you look back up, meeting his gaze. His features are softer, sadder; somehow. There’s the slightest bit of grief in the way he’s regarding you. “Are you glad you made it this far?”
You rub your lips together, taking a shaky breath to make sure your voice comes out evenly. “Yeah,” you exhale softly. “Yeah, I am. I got to meet you.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“No,” you reply honestly. “I love my work. My friends, I really like hanging out with them. And I’d say our apartment is pretty sweet.”
The concern in Remus’ expression is still evident, his brows pinched together almost painfully. His hands bunch up the fabric on your shoulders, tugging you towards him. You’re certain the action is subconscious – he looks lost in thought, like he’s deliberating wrapping you up in his arms and never letting you go.
“Would you like more reasons?” you ask quietly, feeling your vision start to blur. You shouldn’t be surprised that he cares this much, but you are.
When he nods, your heart melts – the magma seems to be pooling in your stomach, and you feel the kind of warmth you’ve only ever been able to feel since you met him.
“Okay,” you decide to indulge him. “I like coffee when I wake up, especially when you make it. Feeding the stray dogs on the side of the road every morning. And my guitar, I like to make music on it. I think music is nice.”
You feel your throat start to clog up, the image of Remus distorting into a blurry swirl in your eyes. “It’s lovely when it rains, especially when we’re both at home, cuddling. And –”
Your voice comes out wobbly, the tears coming hard and fast now. You want to stop, but push on for his sake.
“And I really like our apartment. Did I mention that? Also, your hugs – I love the way you hug. It’s like you really love me, and —”
“I do love you,” Remus interrupts in a shaky exhale, words barely audible from the way his voice is trembling. “I love you, okay? I love you a whole lot. And I’m so glad you’re still with me.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, gently pulling you even closer towards him. You meet him in the middle, arms instinctively wrapping around his waist as he brings his hands up to encircle your shoulders.
Remus squeezes you like it’s his job to hold you together, and you hear a soft sniffle as he buries his face in your hair. 
“I’m so glad you’re still here,” he says again. Your heart clenches in your chest, in all the best ways.
“I love you,” you respond, because you both know it’s synonymous with Thank you for giving me a reason to be here.
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gay-dorito-dust · 10 days
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This idea is so funny that i couldn't keep it to myself, imagine if stanford wife/husband/spouse is constantly followed by the gnomes and they always try to kidnapp his s/o, probably ford had to tell the gnomes to fuck off every time and is like "i know they're beautyfull BUT THEY'RE MINE"
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After going on a recent anomaly hunt with your husband Ford, you’ve begun to noticed that something or someone might’ve followed you back to the shack.
‘Shmebulock.’
A gnome was standing in your shadow and the moment you looked him in the eye, you swore his pupils became hearts and a dopey smile crept across his bearded face as he fidgeted with his hands almost sheepishly.
‘So you’re the one who’s been following me?’ You asked.
‘Shmebulock.’ Replied Shmebulock as he averted his eyes from yours and down to his shoes.
‘Is Shmebulock your name or?’
‘Shmebulock.’
‘Okay.’ You said as you saw Ford come back out the shack when he saw you didn’t follow him, but before he could ask what was keeping you, his eyes were quick to notice the gnome by your feet and quickly outs his hand on your waist protectively.
‘Oh no, you’re not taking my wife/husband/spouse!’ Ford says to the gnome who glared up at him the moment he heard his voice.
‘Shmebulock!’ The gnome shouts back as he steps closer to you, touching your shoe with his hand, all the while glaring at your husband. You didn’t know whether to laugh or consider getting Ford therapy for picking a fight with a guy who barely reached past his ankle. Ford didn’t often show protectiveness nor possessiveness unless he thought you were in danger and needed to step in to take whoever’s eyes were on you.
Ford the suddenly kneels until he was at eye level with the bearded gnome, holding your hand tightly in his six fingered one as though he was scared of letting you go. ‘No. You’re not stealing them to be your gnome king/queen/royalty. End of discussion.’ Shmebulock’s glare only worsened as he shouted ‘SHMEBULOCK!’ Before kicking Ford in the shoe and ran off back deep into the woods;Thinking that he won the dispute, Ford gets up to his full height, kisses you on the forehead before ushering you back into the lonely shack before locking the door behind him.
‘What was that?’ You asked him.
‘A gnome.’ Ford replied and you looked at him unamused.
‘I know that was a gnome Ford, I meant what the hell was that back there between the two of you?’ You asked as you watched him cross the room and head straight towards his journal to scribble something down before moving back to you to hold you by the arms.
‘He got addicted to your beauty and is now probably telling the rest of the gnome populous that he has found them a new ruler.’ Ford tells you straightforwardly as you looked at him with wide eyes.
‘What?! You mean-‘
‘Yes they’re going to try to marry you…all of them.’ Ford replies as he watches you look back towards the door and shudder at the thought of having to marry millions of ankle sized men and women. You didn’t want to think about what happened to the previous rulers or what would happen if they didn’t find their current ruler beautiful anymore to be their leader if they’re that shallow when it comes to appearances. ‘You should’ve drop kicked him.’ You tell Ford who only chuckled a she brought you into his arms, kissing your forehead repeatedly as you melted into his warm, comforting embrace.
‘Trust me, I had to fight the urge to do so the minute he touched your shoe.’ Ford whispered against your forehead, making you smile at the thought of Ford drop kicking a gnome just because he touched your shoe.
‘Do you know how to stop them?’ You asked, waiting for the reassuring answer that you knew would await you.
‘No, I don’t I’m still trying to figure that out.’ Ford answered.
Well that wasn’t exactly reassuring but how much trouble could a bunch of gnomes could possible pose?
Apparently you were bound to find out sooner rather then later as later that night. You had awoken to the sound of many, many little voices and scurrying across the wooden floor of your shared room with Ford, only to find that an small group of gnomes had somehow managed to break into the shack and had begun tying up your legs and arms to your side so you couldn’t move or kick them. You had caught the eye of Shmebulock, the gnome from earlier that morning that Ford wanted to dropkick, and he was quick to alert the other gnomes that their future ruler had awoken earlier than expected; apparently they thought Ford’s snores was yours…how charming.
‘They’re awake!’ One of the gnomes shouted and they were quick to start pulling you off of the bed by the restraints on your legs.
‘Ford.’ You whisper shouted. Nothing, the man slept like a log after spending the entire day anomaly hunting.
‘Ford!’ You yelled as the gnomes managed to drag you halfway across the bedroom at this point, your yell only made Ford scrunch his face and readjust his sleeping position. ‘FORD!’ You exclaimed louder this time and it jolted the sweet scientist awake as he blearily blinked while reaching out to touch your side of the bed, gasping when he couldn’t feel you and managed to catch sight of your unamused expression as you were being dragged out of the room by the gnomes. ‘Oh now you wake up?’ You said all too calmly for a captive.
‘Now is not the time for that my dear.’ Ford replied as he was quick to grab two gnomes and throw them out of the window, before dropkicking Shmebulock like he promised he would and some other gnomes out of the shack with ease. ‘There’s always time to talk about that my sweet.’ You replied as Ford helped you out of your restraints and just helped you to his chest as he glared at the retreating gnomes, just as their tiny legs carried them back into the forest in fear of what he’d do to them for almost successfully kidnapping his wife/husband/spouse.
‘Are you alright my love?’ Ford questioned as he peppered your face in kisses.
‘I’m fine my dearest, sure kidnapping wasn’t on my list of things to happen in my life, but I’m sure I would’ve been more frightened had the people who kidnapped me weren’t easily disposed of.’ You chuckled as you enjoyed the affection that Ford was giving you, while deciding to give him some of his own by kissing his cheek and across his jawline and neck sweetly.
‘Only you would joke about being kidnapped by Gnomes my dear.’ Ford sighs but smiles softly as he brings you back to bed, where he manages to keep you in his arms the entire night, only having to kick Shmebulock once before trapping the gnome under a glass, and then placed upon a high surface that he couldn’t get down without hurting himself in the process all the while Ford tucked you further into his chest as a silent display to the gnomes that you were happily taken by this man of science.
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adayumantium · 1 month
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The Good Guy 
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
A/N: MY FIRST LOGAN FIC YIPPEEEE; also, my first fic in ermm many, many years. My bad. Pls be nice as I try and get in the groove of it all… Inspired by  X2: X-Men United (2003), in which Logan ensures Jean that he can be “the good guy” that she needs. After being told that he’s the bad boy so many times, Logan is inclined to believe it
Summary: When you need a date to a family function, you know exactly who you want. He, on the other hand, is not so sure… 
W/C: 918 
tags/warnings: a n g s t then fluff, family functions , cursing, reader is shorter than Logan but i thinkk that’s the only physical descriptor, ooc!logan, maybe, just to cover my rusty writing, confessing feelings teehee, logan x fem! reader 
********************************
“Please Logan, please, please, please,” you pleaded. You weren’t one to beg, but this man did it to you. He took another puff of his cigar, refusing to meet your eyes. 
“No dice, bub,” he exhaled, “I’m not your guy,” his voice was gruff, rugged. 
“I already RSVP’d that I’d bring a plus one, I cannot show up by myself. I’d never hear the end of it,” you sighed, trying once more to entice him with your eyes. He was steadfast. “You don’t have to read into it or anything, it would be totally platonic,” you added quickly. 
“Then you have your pick of the mansion, sweetheart,” he scoffed. 
Even if this was true, you didn’t want anyone else. This is the man you wanted in formal wear. This is the man you wanted on your arm all night. This is the man you wanted to dance with, close enough to smell the whisky on his breath. The man you wanted to introduce to your family. Even a little rough around the edges, you would choose him any day. 
“Alright, then I pick you!” you insisted, tugging on his jacket. 
“Darlin’, I’m telling you, I really think you should reconsider,” he looked at you now, eyes full of something you can’t quite place. Fear? Doubt? 
“Lo, everyone else is lame! And there’s an open bar, and-”
“It's a bad idea!” Logan snapped, jerking away. Before you could react, he stormed inside, leaving you with nothing but the smoke in the air and a sinking feeling in your stomach.  
Would he not choose you back? 
Having left you behind, Logan slammed the door of his bedroom. Of course, in your years of knowing one another, he'd thought about you; his earliest memories of knowing you were fantasies, and he hated every moment in the dark after that. He felt selfish, wanting you to himself. You had such a good life. You were friends with good people, and you deserved a good guy. Not him. 
Logan was ripped back into reality by a knock on the door. He could smell your sweetness through the door. It made his mouth water, his fists clench. 
“Was I not clear enough?” he stood with a huff, striding to open the door. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t turn you away, not when he knew you were just trying to check on him. You would always do the right thing; it was part of your charm. 
“...Hi.” You looked up at him, clearly hurt. Through shaky breaths, you stood before him, and it sent his senses ablaze. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, to kiss your head, and tell you that he didn’t mean a word. But that was for guys who stuck around. Logan sucked his teeth, clinging to the leftover nicotine in an attempt to feel something other than dread. He hung onto the doorframe with one arm, shooing you off with the other. 
“Y/n, really, just-” 
“Logan, I’m in love with you,” you cried. At that moment, he couldn’t run anymore. Not from what he felt, or thought you felt. 
“Bub, I’m not what you want,” Logan shook his head, but refused to break from your eyes. “I, uh, I’ve seen a lot of shit, I’ve done a lot worse, and you need somethin’ a lot different from all that,” he exhaled. 
“That’s up to me!” you insisted. “You can’t tell me what I want, or ‘need’. That’s not up to you, Lo. If you don’t want me… just say that,” you quiver. “I don’t care about an asshole, but I can’t stand a liar,” you look at your feet, preparing yourself for imminent heartbreak. 
“Princess…” Logan whispers, tilting your chin up. His fingers are calloused, but gentle as the pad of his thumb runs over your face. “Is that what you think this is about?”
“I mean, what else could-” 
“Fuck, darlin’, I’m sorry. I…I meant what I said. I’ve seen a lot of shit. Been through a lot of shit. But that’s about me, not you. Shit, I mean, I’m obsessed with you,” he held your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks softly. “I’m just not the kind of guy you take home to meet your family. That’s all,” Logan shook his head. 
“Wait, you’re what?” you smile softly. 
“Y/n, I do want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Fuck, I…” he trailed off before crashing his lips into yours. Taken aback, you blinked once, twice, before melting into him. You loved the way Logan’s facial hair brushed your face; you often daydreamed about what it felt like. Your arms draped around his neck, and he settled on the small of your back. The taste of his lips was dizzying as Logan pulled you closer, making your chest flush to his. If the way his warmth enveloped your body wasn’t enough to drive you crazy, the little noises escaping his mouth definitely were. 
You pull back to take a breath, forehead against his. 
“I, uh, can’t promise you forever,” Logan sighed. “At least, not yet. But I can promise you right now, and I hope that’s enough, princess,” he nodded slowly, his hands making his way to your waist. 
“How about two weeks from now?” you smile. “Which is totally not an excuse to get you in a suit…” you giggle. 
“I guess I’ll come. Y’know. For the open bar,” he smiles back, pulling you into his room for further kissing. 
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beomiracles · 2 months
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hiii! i’ve never requested before but as i’m stalking *tehe* your account- OMG U WRITE SO GOOD BSFR
can i request something like a cosplayer!gf x soobin? yk he’s such a weeb & a nerd, i js know he would love a cosplayer gf (not only ‘cause i do cosplay lmao). Maybe some smut-ish?
TYSMMM, i hope u take the request babes <33
⌞ 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 ⌝
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DREAM RECALL Soobin knows that he should feel ashamed, but he can't help it. He wants nothing but to see his girlfriend completely ruined before him.
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pairings soobin x cosplayer!gf warnings perv!soobin, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, overstimulation (f), dacryphilia, unprotected sex + creampie, teetering on the edge of dub-con at some points, soobin calls reader "bunny", reader wears bunny ears !
#serene adds ✎ hii omg tysm eek that makes me super happy to hear >.< I tried my best, I'm not a cosplayer myself so I might've gotten some things wrong, but I think it's such a cool thing to be able to do ! this might not be exactly what you wanted, I think I got a little carried away, I hope it's still an enjoyable read nonetheless :3
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It was really no secret that Soobin liked your cosplays. How he would so often brag about his girlfriend who could transform into just about anyone. Not to mention the several times he watched you get ready with big fascinated eyes as he asked you tons of questions, or went out of his way to buy you the things you needed. So no, it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked it. Well, maybe a little, maybe he hadn’t told you just how much he really enjoyed it. 
Some of them were fine, the costumes that made him giggle, the ones that were unique and funky. But some made his breath catch in his throat as he shoved a pillow over his lap. The flimsy short dresses, the tight tops, the jewelry that dangled from your neck. Even the fluffy bunny ears you once put on made him rethink his morals. — He doesn’t know how to approach it, if he should say something, or just keep quiet. Would you be disgusted with him or would you be just as turned on? He didn’t know but the thought was slowly eating him away. 
You didn’t exactly make things easier. Always sauntering about in your revealing costumes, making his dick strain uncomfortably in his briefs as he tears his gaze away. He knows that you love what you do, catching you smiling and laughing as you edit your videos, always excited to talk about your next costume. Soobin doesn’t want to ruin something you hold so dearly just because of his perverted mind. Yet he can’t help but replay the scene in his head, over and over until his hand moves down his pants on its own. 
Short fluffy skirt bunched up over your stomach, your tits bouncing in rhythm with each harsh thrust of his as your bottom lip quivers, big bunny ears flopping down the sides of your face as your dainty nails claw at his arms. — Fuck, Soobin knows it’s bad. So why can’t he stop?    
Things get no better when you call out for him that evening, your squeaky voice echoing through the walls of your apartment. He gets up from the couch, dragging his feet over to your shared bedroom, pushing the slightly ajar door open before his eyes almost shot out of their sockets. — “Can you help me zip this up?” You whine as you struggle with the zipper of your short dress. The lacey material was just the kind that immediately got his mind reeling and Soobin fumbled for words before eventually nodding, awkwardly stumbling inside the room. 
His big hands are clumsy on your back as he twists at the locking mechanisms of your garment, his brows deeply furrowed as he tries to get it right. “M-Maybe it’s broken”, you huff, making a small grimace as he tugs at the costume. Soobin only shakes his head, “no it’ll work”, he mutters, intent on seeing you in the skimpy piece of clothing. And at last he does get it, heaving a small sigh he takes a step back as you admire yourself in the mirror. 
“Thank you, babe!” You chirp, rushing to give his cheek a small peck before setting up your phone. “Do you wanna watch?” — Your innocent question sends blood straight to his groin and he has to blink twice before comprehending your words. “I…sure”, he nods, moving to sit by the edge of the bed, securely out of view from your camera. 
You had explained multiple times how you filmed your content, lip syncing to different songs and sometimes having full on dialogues. But Soobin finds himself unable to focus on anything besides how your tits moved as you redid take after take, huffing when you got something wrong as you pulled at the colorful wig on your head. 
His eyes are glued to the way the dress slides up your thighs, frowning as your hand wraps around the fabric to pull it down again. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting uncomfortably on the plush mattress as he watches you bend forward to mess with the settings on your phone, your soft tits almost spilling out of the tight costume. — He knows that he’s done for if you turn around right now, and he swallows, fingers curling around the blanket beneath him. 
He should leave, actually he should probably have left right away, but his greedy mind just couldn’t say no. It takes everything in him to tear his gaze from you, quickly removing himself from the bed as he heads for the door, though your voice makes him freeze in his tracks. “Where are you going, Binnie?” He can practically hear the pout on your lips and he has to bite back a small groan. “Just the bathroom”, he mumbles, hoping that you won’t catch on to how strained his voice had become. 
Your obliviousness is endearing as you give a small “okay”, and the immense wave of guilt washing over him is almost unbearable. Yet his demanding arousal wins him over and as soon as the bathroom door shuts behind him does his hand slip past the hem of his sweats. — Letting his head fall back against the cool tiles, Soobin exhales as his fingers wrap around his aching cock, groaning as he tugs on it. No matter how hard he tries not to, the image of you in the room down the hall clouds his vision. 
It wasn’t like it was unwarranted, right? You were his girlfriend, so why did he feel so shameful over jacking off to the silly little costumes you wore? But the thought of confronting what he thought to be a bizarre kink, felt almost worse than jerking it off in secret. You’d probably be disgusted with him, Soobin thinks so at least. And that’s the last thing he wants. 
He takes a cold shower after that, trying his hardest to scrub away the shame and the guilt. It never worked. He feels just as hot when he steps out again, almost like he was running a fever, an incurable one. — You ask him about his sudden disappearance at dinner but he merely brushes it off. And you’re so naive, believing every single word passing his lying lips. 
Not even when he’s balls deep inside of you that night, thick cock ramming into your throbbing cunt, can he get the thoughts out of his head. His mind works overtime as it conjures image after image of you all dressed up for him, your makeup smudged by the tears that streamed down your face as he brings you to orgasm after orgasm. — Only snapping out of his haze when your whiny voice pierces the air, “B-Binnie, s’too much!” — “Fuck, sorry Bunny”, the petname slips out without him thinking twice and it isn’t until he catches your small frown that he realizes his mistake. 
“You’ve never called me that before..” You sound hesitant and Soobin stills inside of you. “Ah.. No I suppose I haven’t”, he huffs, clearing his throat rather awkwardly, “if you don’t like it I-” — “No, I do.” He blinks, unmoving as he swallows, did he hear that right? The tiny confirmation sends him spiraling and he reconnects your lips in a kiss, thinking, hoping, that maybe he’d be able to get just a step closer to what his twisted mind desired. 
⸝⸝
Sometimes it was almost like the universe liked to pull pranks on Soobin. Or maybe it was karma? It had to be one of the two, because he nearly drops his phone as you come skipping down the hallway, dressed in nothing but a fluffy skirt and a cute sparkly top. — You immediately begin rambling on about the character you’re portraying as you twirl before him, modeling the look. But Soobin isn’t listening, in fact he’s barely heard a word you’ve said, even as his gaze trains on your glossy lips. You always did your makeup nice, but today you had gone all out, pink cheeks matching the shadow around your eyes, and he could’ve sworn you used something akin to glitter on the tip of your nose. 
“Do you like it?” You wonder, twisting the flimsy skirt between your fingers as you await his response. Soobin’s eyes find yours, wide and curious meeting his lustful and near pleading ones. There’s really only one thing he can say. — “You should put the bunny ears on.” 
You frown, the confusion is evident on your pretty face as your pink lips part. “The bunny ears? But they don’t even have anything to do with this costume, silly!” — “I know.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance but the way desire swirls behind his gaze surely gives him away. You bite the inside of your cheek, appearing almost conflicted as you rock back and forth on the sole of your feet. “Binnie, don’t you think–” 
“I think”, he interrupts, shifting against the sofa before he continues, “that you should put them on and go lay down on our bed.” — Your jaw slacks as your fingers, previously tangled up in your skirt, drops to your sides, sure you were used to Soobin being commanding but this was something completely new. Then your eyes drift to the bulge in his pants, wondering how it could’ve passed your notice before, and you nod, slowly turning on your heel as you head for the bedroom. 
Soobin lets his head fall back against the couch with a soft groan. Running a hand through his hair, he slowly considers what he was about to go through with. But not before long does he get up to head after you. — The door is ajar, letting him catch a glimpse of the bed before he pushes it open. He finds you perched on the mattress, knees tucked under you as you fiddle with the fluffy ears on your head. When you see him entering you immediately make a move to lie down, visibly gulping as he reaches the bed in three long strides. 
This was far from anything the two of you had done before. You supposed that some might even call your sex life a bit vanilla. While it wasn’t something you had given much thought, Soobin most definitely seemed to have as he looms over you. — You looked so pretty, so perfectly put together, and he wanted nothing more than to see you ruined. 
His large hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the pink hues as he sends you a loving look. “Gorgeous bunny”, he murmurs, pulling your plump bottom lip down, your sticky gloss smearing all over his thumb as he pushes it inside your mouth. He’s pleasantly surprised when you eagerly swirl your tongue around it, coating his finger in your saliva. You keep your eyes on him the whole time, the small eye contact makes his cock practically jump in his pants and he retracts his thumb with a grunt. 
Eagerly he hikes the fluffy skirt up above your stomach. The cotton panties you wore underneath were nothing special, you hadn’t exactly planned for things to take such an intimate turn but Soobin’s breath still catches in his throat as his fingers trace the lining. — “So soft”, he exhales, hand dipping inside the thin garment as his long fingers slide between your folds, making you suck in a sharp breath as your teeth latch onto your painted lip. 
Driven by the fantasies conjured in his far too imaginative mind, it’s almost as if he’s taken on a completely different persona. The uncharacteristic look in his eyes makes you throb against him, his saliva coated thumb skimming over your clit, has you crying out as he quickly pushes a finger inside of your clenching hole. — He wants to ease you into it, take it slow, like he usually did, but there’s something urging him on today. Desperate to see you ruined by his hand, Soobin quickly adds a second finger, not slowing down as he hears you wail, cute nails practically ripping the sheets apart as your thighs twitch. 
His free hand tugs your panties down, leaving them by your knees as he grows impatient, his attention returning to your slick core; watching intently as your arousal trails down the back of his hand. Soobin was a gentle lover, he loved taking his time as he watches your face morph into pleasurable expressions, he loved hearing your small gasps and moans as he slides himself inside of you before gently picking up his pace. But none of that lingers today.  
Neither the shame nor bashfulness exists within him any longer. He can’t bring himself to care when you look so pretty beneath him, whimpering as you orgasm around his fingers, his name falling from your lips like it was second nature. — “N-No s’too much!” You whine as his fingers continue to spread your puffy folds, but Soobin’s too far gone already. “S’okay bunny, I’m gonna make you feel so good”, he murmurs, planting a tender kiss to your forehead and you preen under him. 
Sweat has dribbled down your face, causing your makeup to crease but Soobin only groans at the sight, his large hand feverishly working to free his throbbing cock from the confinement of his pants. — Your quiet cry when his tip meets your clit makes his chest swell as he lets himself become coated in the remnants of your previous high. “Binnie”, the nickname makes him twitch as his gaze flickers up to meet yours. Your bottom lip wobbles, short pants emitting from deep within your throat and your eyes are wide. Fuck you look gorgeous.
Soobin thinks he might come the second he slips past your wet folds, your overstimulated cunt sucking him in like never before and you whimper at the stretch of his thick cock. He starts out slow, like he usually did, though his restraints quickly snap as his pace becomes near unbearable. His eyes focus on the way your tits move with each thrust, their rhythmical bounce as they strain against the sparkly top makes him groan as he increases his force. — He traps one of your floppy bunny ears between his fingers, feeling the soft material against his open palm before he tugs on it, making you whine as your back arches off the mattress. 
“Prettiest little bunny I’ve ever seen”, he grunts, his hips slamming against yours with such force that you let out a small hiccup. Your hands move to his shoulders, pretty nails digging into the flesh there as you meekly nod, jaw slacking as you blink up at him. — His thumb is on your lips again, except this time he’s smearing your pink gloss across your cheek and chin, wanting you to look nothing but ravaged when he’s done with you. 
He can tell that you’re having a hard time keeping up, the tears welling in your eyes a clear indicator. “S-Slow down, Binnie!” You sniffle, your grip on his upper arms becoming near deadly. And any other day he would’ve complied in a heartbeat, scooping you into his arms as he coddled you, but he needs to see you ruined, he can’t stop now. — The first droplet to fall from your eyes makes him let out a strangled noise as his cock twitches deep inside of you. The ones that follow manage to smear your perfect makeup, leaving streaks on your pink tinted cheeks. 
Your quiet sobs are interrupted by breathy moans as his index and middle finger swirls around your throbbing clit. “Hnng, I’m g-gonna.. p-please let me..” Your incoherent pleas only make his mind spin, adding to the sensation of having you completely wrecked before him. His large palm against your tear stained cheek is near trembling as he leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “S’okay bunny, I’ve got you.” He presses reassuring pecks to your face, covering you in his love as he feels you clench around him, pulling a sharp hiss between his gritted teeth as you finish around his cock. 
Once the wave of intense pleasure subsides you’re left a whimpering mess as Soobin abuses your spent cunt, using it however he pleases as he thrusts into you without showing any signs of slowing down. — You looked so perfect like this, your once pretty costume completely disheveled all thanks to him. Your mind is nothing but a hazy fog as you gaze up at him, letting him have his way with you because you’re nothing but a dumb bunny, his dumb bunny. 
He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck as his hips stutter, making sure to fill your pretty little cunt with as much of his seed as possible, preserving it by slowly fucking his soft cock into you despite your wails. — “You’re okay”, he murmurs, pressing tender kisses to your sweat covered neck as he slumps against your chest. “So perfect for me”, he sighs as he leans up to catch a glimpse of your face. He finds a small grin playing on your lips, making his heart flutter almost agonizingly as he props himself up to place a kiss to that very smile.
Such a perfectly dumb bunny, he thinks.  
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gilverrwrites · 4 months
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Best friends to lovers, but it's Dick Grayson.
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≈1.3K words, CWs: F!Reader, cunnilingus, dirty talk. Pet-names: Princess, baby girl, pretty girl. Rating: 18+ MINOR DNI
Your best friend Dick Grayson has no boundaries.
He helps himself to your food, swapping and changing dumplings for noodles, carrots for celery, dips his fries in your milkshake, without even asking.  
He leaves his dirty clothes in your washing hamper, ‘borrows’ your lotions, and leaves his streaming services logged in on all your devices. In the winter he puts his cold hands under your shirt, stealing your warmth, and laughs when you flinch. “But you’re so hot!” He whines, hugging you tighter, “Let me hold you a while longer, please.”
In the summer he struts around your apartment, shirtless and sheening with sweat, eating your ice cream, pumping up the AC so he and Haley can chill out post-run. Not that you mind, it’s just that ‘oh, no, he’s my best friend’ is a hard sell when you bring dates home.
At random hours of the early morning, he wakes you up by crawling into bed with you, clings to the over-sized shirt you're sleeping in that is clearly his and makes fun of your tattered old underwear. “They’re comfy!” “They’re… something...” He trails off, all dreamy and quiet, refusing to expand before falling asleep, and is gone by the time you wake up.  
Your best friend Dick Grayson brings you gifts from all over the world. Chocolates from that one mom-and-pop you once mentioned in Keystone, jewellery, and perfume he probably paid way too much for from market vendors in cities like Paris and Istanbul, risqué pieces of underwear from Milan.
On late nights, he rests his head on your tummy, settled between your thighs as you watch your favourite film series for the nth time, smiling to himself as you babble on about your favourite scenes, about facts he already knows because you already told him, but he wants to hear you say it again anyway. When you start falling asleep on the couch, he lifts you, bridal style with ease, and carries you to the bedroom. “Come on then princess, let’s get you to bed.” “I can do it myself.” “You can’t even keep your eyes open, let me.”
He brushes stray pieces of hair out of your face when you’re too engrossed in something to do it yourself, when your hands are too full to reach, or when he wants to get a better look at you, just because he loves looking at your face.
“Um, what are you doing?” He nonchalantly hooks his finger into the waistband of your trousers, disappointed when he gets a not-too-subtle peek at neither your endearing threadbare usuals, nor the lacey Italian ones he’d bought for you.
Your best friend Dick Grayson flirts with you blatant and publicly;
“The red or the blue?” “Neither.” “I have to wear something!” “I’d love to see you wearing nothing.” “Wear the blue, always the blue.” Jason would never let it go otherwise.   “What do you want?” “You.” “I meant to eat.” “Same answer.” “I could never be you.” “What? Why?” “Must be tiring, being that cute.”
He texts you when you’re not together. “Good morning pretty girl” “saw this and thought of you.” “What are you wearing?”
One day you text back a picture, a mirror selfie from behind, your skirt hiked up, showing off the tiny navy-blue thong and he doesn’t text back. You worry that you’ve taken it too far, overstepped a line. 
Until your best friend Dick Grayson is waiting for you when you arrive home, sporting a nasty black eye and a smile the size of titan tower. In actuality, that image was exactly what he’d been hoping for every time he messaged. That image had been ingrained in his mind since you sent it, and it was one thousand times better than he’d imagined. That image was his hook, time to reel you in.
“Sorry I didn’t text back, I was speechless. No really, I got this” he points to the purple bruise forming around his eye “because I was distracted, thinking about you.”
“It’s cool, you didn’t have to say anything.” You lie. “Not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 
“Can I see it again?”
In the middle of your cramped kitchen, your best friend Dick Grayson lifts your skirt above your waist and drops to his knees, brazenly eying your folds. On request, you take the skirt from his hands, holding it up, exposing yourself as you do a little twirl for him, letting him see the full picture. 
When he lands a playful smack on your ass-cheek he grins, thrilled by the playfully petulant look you fire at him over your shoulder. When he runs a finger over your clothed slit, he’s even more delighted by the way your body shivers, by the hint of wetness he can feel seeping through the thin piece of fabric.   
You don’t stop him when he hooks a finger in the crotch, pulling the obstructing lace to the side, or when he runs his fingers through your now exposed lips. Deft fingers tease you, ghosting over your clit with no real fiction, making your pussy clench around nothing. 
“Want something?” The sight of him at your feet, watching you through defiant eyes has you weak.  
“Yes, touch me.” The sight of you, spread and writhing has him near feral, but he wants something more. 
“I’m already touching you, Princess.” He laughs, his warm breath against your slick tingles. If his breath is enough to make you quiver, he can’t wait to find out what his tongue will do to you. “Ask for something else. Nicely.”
You’re not sure exactly what he wants you to say, so you stammer the first words that come to mind; “Please Dick, stop teasing. Just do whatever you want to do, I want it too.” 
It’s enough. 
Your best friend Dick Grayson lifts you by your knees, setting you on the counter and securing your thighs over his shoulders as he descends on your folds. He’s messy and desperate, unable to get enough of your sweetness, darting his tongue in every direction until he finds the select few motions that have your fingers curling in his hair, have you panting his name between loose lips.
When you start to roll your hips, using his mouth for your own pleasure he can’t help but moan, the reverb sending further vibrations through your body that has your toes curling. He’s rock hard, itching to palm his cock, to grind it against the closest surface, but that’s an afterthought. He won’t get off until he’s lapped up your climax at least once. 
“Are you gonna cum for me?” His words are slurred, muffled between your legs, unwilling to pull away long enough to get his words out cohesively. “I want you to cum all over my face, okay baby girl?”
If he wasn’t already salivating against you, Dick’s mouth would water at the sight of you. Your body begins to jerk, your back arching, head thrown back as your orgasm hits you, his firm hands tighten around your legs, locking your lower body in place until all your tension is gone, and his face is soaked with your fluids. 
As you come down from your high, he savours the flavour, occasionally licking up stray droplets from your skin. He admires the way you look, head lolled to the side, eyes static under heavy lids, jaw slack, until it’s too much, until he needs to see you high on his doing once more. Without warning he lifts you. The collar of his shirt is damp, his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess.
“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable for round two.” Your best friend Dick Grayson says as he cradles your body in his arms. 
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pastryfication · 2 months
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Can you please, if you'd be so kind, do one with Oscar x driver!reader, and him proposing on media day, when they're talking in front of people? And Lando has to hype him up before. 🤭
hi!! thank you for your request!!
i can’t imagine oscar proposing in front of so many people—i think he’d be more the type to do a private, intimate proposal—so i’ve changed the request a bit. i hope you still like it!
just say yes | oscar piastri
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pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader
content warnings: mentions of hungary 2024… also, this is messy! i’m not even sure myself what is going on.
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the race hadn’t worked in your favour. starting p8 and moving down to p11 wasn’t good enough. just out of the points, in a race with so much potential, wasn’t good enough.
in the final lap, you wanted nothing more than to exit the car, throw away your helmet and hide yourself away in the hotel. but then, your race engineer turned on the radio and delivered the message you had waited to hear for so, so, so long. oscar had won the race. oscar passed the finish line in first place.
now, after such news, your eagerness to finish the race wasn’t build on the need to sulk, but instead, an eagerness to celebrate your boyfriend.
as soon as you were out of the car, you were running towards were you knew he would be. the smell of burnt tires and gasoline faded to the background and you threw yourself against him, race suite and helmet still on, and enveloped him in a hug.
you were so happy you wanted to cry. he deserves this more than anyone else and to see him achieve it was a dream come true for you. as he decented the podium, you were in the crowd and clapped louder than anyone else.
oscar had found your face in the crowd as he stood on the top step. he smiled brightly when your eyes met, and when lando initially ignored him and he felt the world slowly crashing down on his happiness, your silhouette was what he sought again.
you were there. you were always there. even when you had a shitty race yourself, even when he could see how sad you were about the position you ended up in, you still came to celebrate him. and you poured your entire heart into the celebration, pushing yourself into the crowd of papaya to be closer to his beaming face.
too caught up the the giddiness you felt, you truly hadn’t noticed anything wrong until oscar pulled you aside just before your media duties. he wasn’t smiling quite as bright as he was supposed to, considering he just had his maiden win. he explained, voice a bit strained, that he had been allowed to pass lando. he told you how the win didn’t feel completely like his own, like he didn’t quite deserve it, and you listened with a frown on your face.
this was his win. he deserved it. he earned it fair and square. and you told him exactly that. you told him while holding him close in another hug, your mouth up close to his ear so only he could hear the sweet words you whispered.
as you leaned your head on his shoulder and comfortingly rubbed his back, oscar mind began to cloud with thoughts of the ring in his trouser pocket. barely a hundred meters away, tucked safely away in his jeans in his drivers room, lay the diamond ring he so delicately had picked out with your sister.
he wanted it then, he wished so desperately to have magical powers so he could make it spawn in his hand, but he didn’t, so instead, he took your hand in his and dragged you along.
“where are we going?” you asked, but it was for deaf ears. he had a mission and he was going to accomplish it. he was going to propose right then and there. he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.
୨୧
the reporter had to fight hard to hide the smirk when he spotted the diamond on your finger. it stood in stark contrast to the dull race suit hanging from your waist, sparkling prettily against the sweaty fireproof shirt clinging desperately to your damp skin, compliment the op1 cap on your head perfectly.
“what is it i spot on your finger?” he asked, microphone pushed up against you eagerly in await of your response.
“well, what does it look like?” you answered, showing it to him with a joyful smile adorning your face.
“i guess your boyfriend wasn’t satisfied with just a win.” the reporter laughed.
“fiancé.” you corrected. “and my fiancé is quite satisfied with his amazing win. but you can never get too many things to celebrate.”
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livixcore · 2 months
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All this for him? (idol!Hwang Hyunjin x f!reader)
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✮ Summary: You pay your boyfriend a visit during his practice in the studio which ends up with you receiving another guys phone number while you're there. Jealousy takes over Hyunjin who decides to prove who you belong to.
✮ A/N: listennnn I know smut is a BOLD first post and first write but hear me out... mic and brush has the biggest chokehold on me and I couldn't help myself lols! anyways enjoyyy!!!! lemme know what you think pls and thank u x
✮ Pairing: Idol!HwangHyunjin x fem!reader, AFAB!reader, JealousBoyfriend!Hyunjin
✮ Genre: Smut, Angst (if you squint)
✮ W/C: 4.7k
Smut warnings under the cut!!!
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✮ Warnings: choking, degradation. praise, jealous!Hyunjin, multiple orgasms, oral (m and f rec) unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it people!!) fingering, hair pulling, possessiveness. marking, softdom!Hyunjin, sub!reader, pet names (jagiya, angel, baby...) filming, squirting, creampie, not fully proofread mb x
It had been a couple of weeks since you had sat in the practice rooms to watch your boyfriend run through his choreo so when he called at 7pm and proposed the idea of you coming to watch his new solo performance practice you immediately jumped up to get ready. Somehow you managed to be out your apartment in 15 minutes and arriving at the studio another 30 minutes later.
“Finally you’re here! What took you so long? I called you about 45 minutes ago.” Hyunjin, in his dramatic state, jogged over to meet you at the door once he heard the door swing open. He clearly hadn’t noticed the drinks in your hands.
“Wow, okay so i’m guessing you don’t want this then?” you replied to his drama by shaking the drink around close to his face but before he could react you had pulled it away and strolled past him feeling his eyes burning into the back of your head as you placed your things onto the table at the side of the dance studio.
Still facing the table, you heard footsteps behind you as Hyunjin walked over seemingly more interested in the iced americano now inhabiting the table. You felt a pair of large ring adorned hands snake around your waist from behind and settle flat on your stomach as Hyunjin rested his head in the side of your neck.
“I’m sorry. I was just excited to have you here to watch me doing my solo choreography.” He mumbled into your neck as you leaned into his warmth, sighing comfortably.
“No it’s okay, I know baby. Thought you might’ve needed some energy plus the traffic getting here was crazy so I just thought an extra 10 minutes wouldn’t matter if it meant I wasn’t showing up empty handed.” You melted into his embrace and rested your hands on top of his on your stomach, tracing his rings under your fingertips. Being in a secret relationship and needing to be careful about it made moments like this even more special before reality set in. Hyunjin was quick to remember his choreographer was only stepping out for 10 minutes just before you arrived. He pressed a quick soft kiss to your neck and pulled away, grabbing the drink you had brought and took a sip.
“Thank you. I really needed this.” Just as he replied the door swung open and the choreographer walked in grinning as he spotted you standing in the corner.
“Ah! Y/N I didn’t know you were coming today? Hyunjin didn’t mention it.” He walked over pulling you into a hug and you shot a look in Hyunjin’s direction to catch him holding back a laugh. It’s not that you didn’t like Kai but he had always tried flirting with you every time you had came to the studio to watch your boyfriends dancing. Granted, Kai didn’t know you and Hyunjin were dating but still, he was shameless. You both had always told Kai you were just childhood friends (which isn’t exactly a lie) and you hung out often to just hide the fact you’re dating. He clearly believed it since the flirting was unavoidable despite Hyunjin’s eyes boring into the back of Kai.
“Haha yeah… I had no idea you’d be here either. I thought it was just Hyunjin otherwise I would’ve brought you a drink too.” You tried to cover up the fact you didn’t want him here. Hyunjin bit the straw of his drink smirking as you looked at him for help.
Kai cluelessly just offered a laugh and told you it’s no big deal as he had a coffee earlier already. Hyunjin set his own down and asked you to go sit down so he could show you the choreo for his solo stage.
The music started playing as he took his position in the middle of the floor. You had always admired him while he danced, swaying perfectly to the beat. The song he had for his solo stage was perfect for him. It had a jazz and expensive vibe to it and wasn’t bouncy or crazy in any way meaning his dancing was more mellow and slower, almost sensual. You sat back in your seat watching him run through the moves, his eyes moving to watch your reaction every so often.
Once he had gone through it the first time he was left with a layer of sweat covering his perfect features as he ran his fingers through his hair to move it away from his eyes showing you more of his face as he shot a smirk at you. He knew you loved him like this, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. He just didn’t realise how turned on this side of him made you.
Obviously you had noticed Hyunjin’s eyes watching you but you had also caught on to Kai watching you too instead of keeping his eyes on his student. You had kept a mental note of Kai’s eyes on you in case Hyunjin brought it up later, which you knew he would. Not that you’re complaining.
“That was amazing! Seriously ba-“ You cut yourself off before you finished that sentence hoping Kai didn’t hear. Hyunjin definitely heard as his cheeks flushed red underneath his already red face from his dancing, you almost missed the new flustered look. Settling for clapping with a smile to show how good you thought it was instead, just incase anything slipped out accidentally.
“Can I just say… Y/N… You look beautiful today." Kai interrupted your appreciation with a compliment but immediately snapped his mouth shut. "Sorry I shouldn’t have said that.” He added, mumbling but you could still hear what he said. “Sorry…”
“Uh no it’s okay!” Trying to save the man from embarrassment. “Thank you… I just threw this on today though it’s nothing special.” You thanked him to smooth the tension, tugging on your tight cropped vest and baggy jeans.
Kai rubbed the back of his neck in response, feeling minimally better. “Well you look amazing to me.” He offered a smile.
Hyunjin coughed from beside you as he sat down with his drink in his hand. His tongue poked out between his lips and travelled to the corner of his mouth as he sat back, adjusting his position in the seat. You suddenly felt intimidated with his presence next to you. He felt you tense up as his thigh and fingers brushed the side of your leg, a silent reminder to behave.
“Uh anyways let’s go again Hyunjin!” Kai pulled him out of his thoughts as he had an internal argument with himself to have control and not kiss you in front of the older man. He shot a subtle glance your way and winked as he stood up and walked back to the middle of the room.
About an hour went by when finally they decided to wrap up practice and head home for the day. They had gone over a couple other dances too just to cover some moves.
The entire time Kai’s gaze was still lingering on you which hadn’t gone unnoticed by you or Hyunjin. When it came to Kai leaving he had walked over and gently pulled you into another hug. “I meant it when I said you looked beautiful earlier.” You felt his hands sliding further down your back and a hand slip into the back pocket of your jeans and then quickly pull out again. “Come again soon, yeah?”. All you could do was awkwardly laugh and nod your head as he pulled back. He then walked over to Hyunjin to sort out their next practice session and then left the building which in turn left an insane amount of tension in the room.
You tucked your hand into the same pocket Kai’s hand had just been in and pulled out a piece of folded up paper. He had scribbled his name, phone number and a small “;)” onto it. Fuck. You quickly folded it up and held onto it in shock.
Before you had time to properly react Hyunjin had already crossed the room and ripped the paper from your hands. “What’s this?” He asked scanning his eyes over the paper, a deep laugh erupting from his chest as he read it. You stopped breathing as you waited for his reaction.
He shoved the paper into his own pocket as he kept his eyes trained on you. You stood frozen in front of him. “Aw, don’t get shy now. You had no problem replying to Kai’s very obvious flirting earlier.” He tilted his head to the side slightly still looking down at you. “I just threw this on today though.” He was mocking you but instead of getting offended you tried to press your thighs together in hopes of him not noticing.
His fingers came up to trace your jaw before finally wrapping around your throat slightly, pressing down on the sides and pulling you towards him to crash his lips onto yours hungrily. You immediately melted into his lips, gasping as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip which allowed him to slip it into your mouth.
You knew replying to Kai was like adding fuel to fire but you also knew (or hoped) it would end like this, with you wrapped around his finger. Teasing was in your nature when it came to Hyunjin.
With his free hand he unbuttoned your jeans and slipped his hand past the waistband, lightly ghosting his fingers over your clothed core feeling the growing wet patch. You felt him smirk against your lips. “All this for him, hm? Couldn’t help yourself feeling his hands over you? Sliding into your pocket and touching your ass?” The same smirk on his lips as he spoke and waited for your reply. "Enjoyed him watching you the entire time too, huh?" He added but all you could let out was a strained moan as his fingers continued their attack over your underwear. He pulled his hand out of your jeans, “Use your words Y/N.”
“N… no never. Only for you.” You whined, missing his touch. “I’m only yours.”
Just as you allowed your hands to wander across Hyunjin’s torso he pulled away from you and walked over to the seats to sit down, dragging you along with him to straddle his lap. “Are you gonna be a good girl and prove you’re mine, jagiya?” All you could do was hum in response as you attached your lips to his neck, sucking sharply. But before any serious damage could be done he had raked his fingers through your hair at your scalp and pulled your head back, the sting causing your eyes to tear up a little.
He wasted no time attacking your neck with the same urgency you had done to him. You whimpered as his lips reached just under your ear as he sucked and nibbled which left a mark behind. His tongue swiped over the same spot to soothe it before he travelled lower to the small part of your exposed collarbone to add another mark. Your hands found themselves in Hyunjin’s hair as you bit your lip and held back a moan.
You felt his hand gripping onto your waist, digging his fingers in which you hoped would leave a bruise behind causing you to start moving your hips on his lap needing more friction. A smile formed on his lips as he stopped kissing your collarbone and looked up to make eye contact with you as he grabbed the hem of your shirt, lifting it slightly. Giving him an eager nod he lifted your shirt off your body, immediately dropping his eyes back to your chest.
"No bra? Bet you came here hoping Kai would be here so he could see you like this hm? Such a tease.." Hyunjin hummed before continuing his kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Before you could reply he had ghosted his lips across one of your nipples, laughing lightly as he heard your breathing hitch. Finally he took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud and watching your reaction.
"Hyune..." You whined out, pleading for more.
"I know angel, I know." His hand slipped past your waistband once more going back to touch you through your underwear where you need him most. Letting out a shuddered breath you dropped your head on his shoulder muffling any sound coming from your lips. "Needy today aren't you? Craving my attention that badly? Knowing how to rile me up perfectly."
Pushing your underwear to the side his fingers finally touched your clit, rubbing small circles around it as you moaned and let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You gripped his forearm as his fingers continued circling your clit drawing the most lewd noises from your mouth as you dug your nails into his arm, forming little crescent moons underneath. His fingers danced around your entrance before he finally slipped a finger inside of you, pulling it out enough to add a second.
You squealed at the new sensation as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you at a steady pace. After a couple more thrusts of his fingers he started to curl them, feeling that spongey spot inside that had you gasping for air as his name fell from your lips like a prayer.
"Hyune please... need to cum." You begged, panting as you spoke with your chest rising and falling erratically. Your grip loosened on his arm and instead drifted to his very obviously hard dick in his pants, tracing the shape with your nails.
His hand in your pants faltered slightly at the new sensation but quickly found rhythm again. The fingers in your underwear continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb playing with your clit, as the other hand came up to cradle the back of your head and bring you forward so he could catch your lips with his in a slow, gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as your orgasm built up in the pit of your stomach.
"Cum for me angel. Been such a good girl." He whispered against your lips and with that you let go, the knot in your stomach finally exploding as your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you saw stars and his fingers slowed to help you ride out your orgasm with a high pitch moan ringing through the echoing studio.
He pulled his fingers out of you, slipping them past his lips and sucking them clean. A groan fell from his lips at the taste of you on his fingers. The sight was pornographic, you couldn’t help but crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on him. You deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of his neck to angle his head so you could take over a little, thanking him for the earth shattering orgasm he just gave you.
After you had caught your breath you wasted no time standing up with slightly shaky legs and dragging your jeans and panties down off your body in one swift motion, ridding yourself of the material and kicking it off to the side. Sinking to your knees in front of Hyunjin, your hands started off going up his inner thighs teasingly before finally reaching the tent in his sweatpants.
"Wanna make you feel good Hyune, prove how good I can be for you. Only you." You blinked up at him, resting your cheek against his thigh as your hand kept tracing over his dick with your fingers. "Please. Wanna taste you."
He only hummed in response, leaning over and putting his hand on the back of your neck to pull you in for a searing kiss. You bit down on his bottom lip causing him to groan into your mouth and pull back to look at you with lust filled eyes before sitting back again, waiting for you to continue with what you had begged for.
Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats you pulled them down to his ankles leaving him in just his shirt and boxers. You started kissing his thigh, working your way towards his lower stomach before finally dipping into the waistband of his boxers and freeing his dick from the confines. Your mouth watered at the sight. He wasn’t too long but definitely longer than average with the perfect girth.
Licking a long stripe up the underside of his cock you made your way to the tip and giving it a light kiss, licking your lips after and tasting the salty precum that had transferred onto your mouth.
“Angel don’t tease.” He groaned, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your breath fanning over where he needed you most. Hyunjin wasn’t usually impatient and had a good amount of self restraint and control but today was different, he felt an uncontrollable need for you that had to be fulfilled.
Your tongue darted out of your mouth giving the tip of his dick small kitten licks before finally wrapping your lips around the head sucking lightly. A groan slipped past Hyunjin’s lips as his head tipped back slightly faltering but brought it back up quickly to watch you with your mouth wrapped around his length. Deciding to give him what he wants you finally sank your mouth down on his leaking cock, using your hand to accommodate for what you couldn’t fit.
“F…fuck y/n, always s.. so perfect for me huh? Always so good with that pretty mouth of yours.” His voice shuddered as he spoke, bringing his hands through your hair and creating a makeshift ponytail. “Does my pretty girl want my cum down her throat? Is that what my jagiya wants?”
You hummed in response and the vibrations caused Hyunjin to shiver and his grip to tighten on your hair, pulling at the strands. The mix of his hands pulling on your hair and the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat caused tears to well in your eyes as they fluttered open and you looked up at him through your lashes, the eye contact enough to have you gushing with arousal.
It didn’t take long for a string of curses mixed with your name to come out of Hyunjin’s mouth as his hips began to thrust up into your mouth, chasing his high. After just a couple thrusts his hips stilled and you continued to pump his length, keeping your mouth over the tip as he painted the back of your throat white. You let him ride out the orgasm and took your mouth off of him with a pop, saving him from overstimulation.
Once he had caught his breath you brought your face close to his, sticking your tongue out to show his release held in your mouth before swallowing it down and showing him it was gone causing him to smirk and once again crash his mouth onto yours, all tongue and teeth.
He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and roll you over him gently so you were on your back along the seat as he hovered above you. Grabbing his shirt by the back of the collar, he pulled it off in one motion, leaving he finally completely bare.
The new position allowed him to easily kiss down your body, starting with the corner of your mouth slowly making his way to the sensitive spot beneath your ear where he has sucked a mark into earlier. You whined at the contact in the increasingly sensitive area but he was quick to soothe any discomfort with his tongue, lapping over the area softly.
His trail of kisses continued down your body, between the valley of your breasts and across your belly. You felt even more bare if that was even possible under his stare as he kept eye contact with you the entire time he kissed along your pelvis and hips, finally coming close to your soaking core.
Feeling his breath fanning over your most sensitive area your hands surged down to thread through his hair, like an automatic reaction. He smirked at you before his plump lips finally came into contact with your clit, giving it soft kisses before sticking his tongue out, running it through your folds causing your back to arch off the seat you were laying on.
You were practically non-verbal at this point except the moans and whines slipping past your bruised lips, still reeling from the previous orgasm he had given you and the fact you didn’t give yourself enough time to recover before jumping on him.
Hyunjin got encouragement from your moans and hands tugging his hair and continued his assault on your clit with his mouth, rolling it between his lips and teeth, softly biting on it every so often. You felt him getting hard again as his length pressed into your inner calf from the way he was leaning over you.
With one hand holding your hips in place his other came up to grip your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers and gripping the mounds of flesh. The added stimulation only caused you to moan loader, the sounds reverberating off the walls making it sound way louder.
You began to absentmindedly grind against his face, feeling him smile against you and chuckle slightly at your eagerness which in turn added an extra vibration to your clit which was enough to send you over the edge for the second time tonight. He let go of you clit with a loud smack of his lips and brought his face close to yours with a shit-eating grin plastered on it despite your arousal soaking his lips and chin.
“Baby are you alright?” He softly asked, stroking the side of his your face and ignoring his again painfully hard dick. Eating you out was one of his favourite things in bed so it’s no wonder he was hard again so quickly. He always cared more about how you were feeling rather than his own feelings at times like this, he needed you to be comfortable.
“Hyunnie, ‘m so so good. Need you in me… please” You had gotten to the point where all you craved was your boyfriend filling you up and you were so close yet to getting it.
“Such a greedy girl wanting my dick to fill her up even though I’ve given you two orgasms already. Don’t worry jagi I’ll fill you up real nice, it’ll be all you can remember all week.” His words hit you deep in your core as he grabbed your plush thighs, pushing them back to meet your chest and he lined himself up with your leaking cunt.
Grabbing the base of his dick he ran the tip through your folds, coating himself in your slick before finally pushing into you slowly and bottoming out in one thrust. You both moaned in unison at the stretch and tightness of your heat encapsulating him, sucking him in.
“Baby move. P…please move Hyune.” You begged, your hands going to grab his thighs as they snapped against your ass from the position he had you in. He pulled out halfway and quickly pushed in again. You could feel every vein of his length dragging along your walls as you clenched down on him feeling your slick leaking out of you at each thrust of Hyunjin’s hips.
Suddenly his pace picked up, his hips snapping into you at a wild rate.
“Pussy was just made for me right angel? Think we should show your little loverboy just how well you take my dick huh?” His thrusts faltered as he reached for his phone from next to your hip. He was quick to open the camera app and two seconds later you heard the telltale sign of a video starting. “Jagiya’s gone on dumb on my cock like the cock drunk slut she is. Who does this cunt belong to baby? Whose dick are you taking so well.” He gasped out through thrusts, holding his phone steady enough to capture him disappearing inside of you, bottoming out with each thrust.
“Y…yours! Hyunjin baby please don’t stop. Belongs t…to you ‘nd only y…you.” You shifted your hips up to meet his thrust, the new angle causing him to reach the spot inside you that had you hurtling towards your third orgasm. The pressure building was the most you’d felt all day. Hyunjin’s thrusts got sloppy as he neared his own release, the camera picking up on the slowed pace.
“Baby ‘m gonna cum quick if you keep clenching on me like that.” He groaned, trying to keep his pace while you drove him crazy.
“Cum with me Hyune… please baby.” You weren’t going to last much longer and you’d always loved the intimacy you felt whenever you and Hyunjin finished together. He knew this about you which is why not even a second later he had brought his free hand up to slot with yours, interlocking you fingers and giving them a slight squeeze, a silent sign of his that you’d caught onto meaning you could cum.
You chased your high, back arching off the seat as the pressure inside of you exploded harder than you’d ever came before, your arousal gushing out and coating your boyfriend’s abdomen and upper thighs. That was enough to have Hyunjin’s hips stilling as he bottomed out for a final time and released inside of you with a low grunt, giving you a couple more shallow thrusts to ride it out before pulling out of you completely. You whined as your legs spasmed and you felt empty again, your hole fluttering around nothing as both of your releases leaked out of you.
He was quick to get the sight of you fucked out with the mess between your shaky legs within the view of his camera before he stopped the video and crawled up to lay beside you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you close.
Your brain hadn’t fully registered anything for the past couple minutes as you caught your breath, still reeling from your final orgasm. Eventually you could feel a hand stroking the side of your face and registered the warm breath fanning across your neck.
“Mmh… baby.” Your voice came out as barely a whisper. Hyunjin quickly sat up and grabbed the water bottle on the nearby table and took off the cap, holding it up to your mouth and tipping it in, soothing your burning throat. “Thank you.” You smiled and sat up slightly, feeling the mess on the seat beneath you.
“y/n that was single handedly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m gonna need you to do that every time we fuck for the foreseeable future.”
“HYUNE! You can’t just say that you pabo!” You laughed while lightly smacking his shoulder causing him to laugh.
“Sorry sorry! Seriously though baby I had no idea you could do that.” Your face flushed with embarrassment but Hyunjin was quick to realise as he grabbed your face with both hands and ran his thumbs across your cheeks, leaning in to give your lips a gentle kiss. “Kinda wish Kai was here to see how good you were for me… It would be a real shame if this video somehow ended up in his text messages though.” Hyunjin shrugged, grabbing his phone and pretended to send the video.
“That would be cruel, the poor guy wouldn’t be able to face us normally for a long time.” Truth be told though, you wanted him to see. Maybe it would finally put a stop to his ruthless flirting and he could move on. You didn’t think Hyunjin would actually send it though so you didn’t bother to try grab the phone from him.
“Yeah I think you’re right. Oh well.” He shrugged and the noise of a text being sent caused your head to whip around and look at him with wide eyes.
“Oh my god Hyunjin tell me you didn’t. He literally going to stop being the groups choreographer!” You said in disbelief, still finding the humour in the situation though but more so in the fact your boyfriend was hot when he’s jealous.
“Aw whoops! Oh well! Come on princess let’s get you cleaned up and then home for a proper bath, maybe some nice dinner too.” He pecked your cheek and started to grab everything you had flung across the room. Aftercare in the company building was always quick and very minimal but you knew the minute you walked into your apartment you would be treated well by your loving boyfriend.
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a/n: thank you so much for reading my first one-shot! i’m gonna go crawl into a hole after posting this and if it does bad then i’ll maybe die off from embarrassment! i’m trying to get this account up and running now starting with this post and then working on my other wips so we’ll see what happens. feedback would be very much appreciated, thank youuuu!
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