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#but I’m really excited to when I have more time
inuyashaluver · 2 days
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Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it
I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English
qué? - alexia putellas
alexia putellas x reader
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description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand
warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics
a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️
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you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.
you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.
even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.
you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.
when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.
you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.
and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.
you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.
when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.
“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.
“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.
“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.
“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.
“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.
“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.
during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.
when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.
lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.
when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.
and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.
“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.
“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.
“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.
“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.
due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.
what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.
she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.
she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.
weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.
the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.
the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.
one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.
“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.
you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.
as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.
when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.
“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.
her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.
“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.
she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.
the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.
“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.
you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.
“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.
“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.
“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.
you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.
“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.
alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.
“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?
“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.
you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.
when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.
“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.
her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.
you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.
everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.
by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.
when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.
on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.
in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.
she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.
you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.
at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.
“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.
“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.
the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.
“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.
you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.
“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.
“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.
what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.
“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.
that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.
you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.
“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.
what type of rejection was this?
“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.
“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.
“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.
you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.
“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.
“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.
“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.
she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.
you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.
she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.
when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.
now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.
the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.
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you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx
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alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)
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yourname: mami
↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this
↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee
lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever
↳ yourname: shut up man
↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!
↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head
↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!
↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft
↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal
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starkwlkr · 3 days
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miss honey | sebastian vettel
dad!sebastian x female reader
no part 2
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“Papa! I have a new teacher!”
The school had already sent out an email letting parents know that the students were being thought by a new teacher. Ever since his daughter knew of the teacher, she had been counting down the days until she could meet her and finally today was the day.
“Remember, we have to be kind to her and all the other kids, okay?” Sebastian reminded her as they walked hand in hand to her classroom. The little girl nodded with a smile on her face.
They finally made it to her classroom and saw several parents with their kids already inside. The Vettel girl let go of her father’s hand and excitedly ran to the table where her friends were. Sebastian wasn’t sure what the new teacher looked like so he just stood to the side admiring the artwork of the kids that was stapled to the cork boards.
“It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper.” A sweet voice caught Sebastian’s attention. It was coming from outside of the classroom so he poked his head out to see what was going on. At the same time, you had entered the classroom causing you to bump into each other. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”
“No, it’s my fault. That’s what I get for being nosey. I’m sorry.” Sebastian apologized. “Do you know who the new teacher is? My daughter is excited to meet her.”
You smiled. “Well I’m more excited to meet her. Where is she?”
“You’re the new teacher?”
“Is that surprising?”
Sebastian nervously chuckled. “No, not at all. I was just . . . Schatz! Come meet your new teacher.” The little girl came running to her father.
“Hello, my father told me you’re excited to meet me.” You bent down to her height. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Emma.” The girl replied shyly.
“Emma, you have a very lovely name. I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. He already took a liking to you. He stayed with Emma for a bit while you greeted other parents and their kids. While Emma colored in her journal, a dad of Emma’s friend had gotten Sebastian’s attention.
“New teacher is hot, right? I’ll have to drop off my kid more often now.” He said, keeping his eyes on your body. “God, she knows what she’s doing. Look at that ass—”
“We’re in a classroom, there’s kids around us. It’s inappropriate, especially when she’s the one teaching our kids.” Sebastian interrupted.
“What? You’re acting as if you wouldn’t sleep with her. Whatever, she’ll definitely put out for me.” He then walked towards you as you finished another conversation with a mom. Sebastian watched as he tried to talk his way into getting your number.
The German could see the discomfort in your face so he quickly made his way towards you. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be going to your office?” Sebastian told the rude man.
“I’m the boss, Vettel, I can go in whenever I want.” He replied.
“Last I heard, your boss was thinking of firing you because you got drunk and ran over a road sign and you called him in the middle of a meeting so he could bail you out.”
You could feel the tension between the men. All you wanted to do was start your first day.
“You’re really not that funny.” He said as he left the classroom.
“Wasn’t trying to be.” Sebastian mumbled. “Sorry about him, he’s an idiot.”
“I could tell. .” You gasped when you realized what you just said. “Oh god, please don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Ever since your first interaction with Sebastian, you couldn’t help but think about him often. You knew it was wrong, but he was just so charming. It was one sided at all. Emma would sometimes bring you a little gift with a note attached in Sebastian’s handwriting. You didn’t know what exactly he did for work, you assumed it was a job that required him to travel a lot since Emma would bring different souvenirs from different countries. His notes were always short and sweet, it made you melt inside.
It was a chilly day and you were almost done with class. The kids were packing their backpacks and cleaning up their areas while you helped some students.
“Does anyone have questions about their homework?” You asked your class.
“No, miss l/n!” They replied.
“Miss l/n? I have a question, but it’s not about the homework . . .” Emma raised her hand from her seat.
You nodded and walked over to her table. “What’s your question, Emma?”
“Well . . My papa is retiring and i was wondering if you want to come with us to his last race?” Emma asked.
“Race? Your papa races?” You were confused, but then it all made sense. The gift from different countries, why Emma’s grandparents were the ones the drop her or pick her up off most of the time.
“Yeah, but he’s retiring. He has four world championships!” Emma put up four fingers. “Can you come with us? Please!”
“Emma, I’m not sure. What if your papa doesn’t want me there? We can talk about this another day.” You tried to dismiss the topic, but the little girl wasn’t giving up.
“That’s not true because my papa always talks about you to his teammate and his friends and everyone who works with him and I heard him say he wants to invite you to the race. One time he called you Miss Honey.” Emma said.
You were sure you were blushing at the thought of Sebastian calling you Miss Honey. It wasn’t the first time you were called that, but knowing Sebastian did made you smile.
“Well I’ll have to talk to your papa when he comes to pick you up.” You said. The Vettel girl nodded.
You took the kids to the entrance of the school where all the parents picked them up from and noticed Sebastian immediately. He waved at you instantly. You waved back, already feeling butterflies in your stomach from that tiny interaction. You then helped the kids find their parents and kept other kids company since they were waiting for their parents to show up.
“Miss l/n! My papa wants to ask you something!” Emma came up running to you, dragging Sebastian by his hand. “Ask her papa!”
The older man just laughed. “I will, just be patient. Um . . So I was wondering if you would like to attend my last race as a Formula 1 driver.”
“Emma did mention you raced.” You said. “She also mentioned you talk about me to your colleagues and call me Miss Honey.”
“Did she?” Sebastian looked down at his daughter, who innocently smiled. “I apologize if that made you uncomfortable—”
“It’s cute. Not the first time I’ve been called that actually.”
Emma couldn’t wait any longer for your answer. “So you’ll go see my papa race?!”
“Emma, be patient.” Sebastian told her.
You looked at her with a smile. “I think it would be lovely to see your papa race.”
Thank god for Emma Vettel and her impatience.
The last race of the Formula 1 season was here. It was a very emotional weekend for many since they would be saying goodbye to the great Sebastian Vettel. He had been receiving lots of kind messages and gifts from fans and supporters from all over the world.
It was the morning of Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and you were feeling a lot of emotions. On the way to the track, Emma had given you her version of how a race worked. You listened to her all the way to the track with Sebastian sometime reminding her of a few things she missed. Finally, you made it to the paddock entrance where photographers were waiting for the arrival of Sebastian.
“Papa, there’s a lot.” Emma said once she noticed the amount of photographers waiting.
“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. You can hold my hand until we get inside, okay?” You assured Emma. Sebastian saw how Emma felt safe with you. You truly were a real life Miss Honey.
Eventually, the three of you had to make your way to the entrance so you held onto Emma’s hand and stayed close to Sebastian. While Sebastian got caught up with taking photos and singing autographs for fans, Emma showed you around. She pointed at several buildings and told you that those were the team motorhomes.
“Sorry about that, come on let’s continue.” Sebastian caught up with you and Emma.
“It’s alright, Emma is a very good guide. She’s very smart.” You reply.
You all made your way to the Aston Martin garage where Sebastian insisted on showing you around. Even though Emma had already been to multiple races over the years, she always acted surprised when she saw her father’s car. You couldn’t help but take a photo of Emma being put inside Sebastian’s car for the final time.
“This is amazing. I can’t believe you never told me this was your job.” You said to Sebastian as you both watched Emma joke around with Sebastian’s race engineer.
“You never asked.” He joked. “It means a lot to Emma that you’re here . . and to me. Thank you.”
“I’m happy to be here.”
Soon came the race. You and Emma watched from the Aston Martin garage. You weren’t sure what was happening, but you were happy to be there to support Sebastian. When the checkered flag came out, Emma explained to you that her father had finished in the points. You, Emma and the Aston Martin team cheered.
It felt like forever trying to reunite with Sebastian, but you kept Emma entertained by playing I spy.
“I spy with my little eye something . . . Red!” You said.
Emma looked around then spotted Charles walking with Max. “It’s Charles!”
“You got it!”
Now it was Emma’s turn. “I spy with my little eye . . Papa!” She yelled, the game of i spy already forgotten since Sebastian was back in the garage. Emma ran to her father and gave him a big hug.
“Did you have fun?” Sebastian questioned.
“Yeah, miss l/n and I were playing I spy and I won.” Emma replied. “Can we go home?”
Sebastian looked at you. “Let’s go home.” He nodded, content with his new life.
After your return home, you saw Sebastian more often. He even volunteered for bake sales, school fundraisers and career day. The kids loved seeing his helmet and racing suit, you were pretty sure it made all the other parents jealous.
It was a nice sunny day when Sebastian had asked you to dinner. It took some convincing, but you accepted. He took you to a restaurant that had a beautiful view and a lot of pretty colorful flowers. As you were talking about a bookstore you wanted to visit, a bee that joined you. While most people were afraid of bees and tried to run away from them, you adored them.
“Five eyes, six legs.” You admired the insect.
“Emma thinks I’m crazy for talking to bees. I tell her that bees are important.” Sebastian said.
“Yeah, I do remember her telling me that you talk to the bees. I thought she was joking.” You chuckled. “I had the kids to a project about bees and Emma said you were planning to make insect hotels?” Soon all you and Sebastian could talk about what his upcoming new project.
After your date, Sebastian drove you home. You honestly didn’t want the date to end, but you had homework that needed grading. What a way to spend a Friday night, but you enjoyed it. You found grading papers very therapeutic.
“I’ll see you at school?” Sebastian wondered.
“Sure.” You laughed. “Before I forget.” You leaned forward and pressed your lip’s against his. It was sweet like honey. After you pulled away, Sebastian couldn’t wipe off the smile from his face.
“Goodnight, miss honey.”
“Goodnight, bee man.”
2023
Time skip brought to you by all my seb pictures from pinterest
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liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher and 276 others
missl/n_ bee man in his natural habitat 🐝 thanks for bringing me along 🖤
mickschumacher come back soon!!
missl/n_ i’ll try! my kids need their teacher 😉
sebastianvettel the bees thank you, miss honey 🍯
missl/n_ i love you, bee man 🐝
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Text
Thinking about bodyguard!Miguel O’Hara who was assigned to watch over you from your manager after finally getting your big break with the last movie you starred in. Despite not being the main character, people still adored yours. Your name trending on twitter along with the rest of the cast.
Bodyguard!Miguel who intimidated the ever living shit out of you. Towering over you and your manager at 6’9 as he introduced him to you for the first time. Miguel staring straight ahead as your manager told you his experience, hands clasped behind his back, no emotion present on his face. Not even a crack of a smile when you joked about having scary dog privileges now, just an unassumed grunt and a deadpan glance at you.
Bodyguard!Miguel who would follow you everywhere when you would step out of the house. Never saying anything more than a handful of words, grunting and tsking more than talking, using his body language to communicate instead. Raising a brow is a silent ask if someone is bothering you, scrunching his nose as a way to decline your offer to get him something every time you get a coffee at the studio lot’s cafe. (You’ll still ask him every time despite him always saying no.) The first time he spoke a full sentence to you, you had to resist letting out a gasp.
Bodyguard!Miguel who wouldn’t admit it, but he almost let a smirk surface on his lips when he saw you freaking out over the phone when you were both out. Your manager Jake had called you during your daily walk when he dropped the bomb that you were going to get the female lead for a new movie you auditioned for a few weeks ago. Finding it endearing how you were practically buzzing with excitement on the rest of your walk.
Bodyguard!Miguel who almost beat up some random intern who kept hitting on you, despite you making it very clear you weren’t interested when you had arrived on your first day on set for the table read/ first cast meet up.
“Here’s your script, I’ll show you towards the reading room.” Said the young twenty-something old, as he handed you the script before nodding towards the corridor of the backlot, you thanked him and followed behind him, Miguel trailing along as well. Not missing the way the guy had eyed you up and down.
“I really liked you in your last movie, you're really funny.” He quipped as he turned to look over his shoulder to look at you, slowing down his steps until he was matching your pace. You just gave him another smile and took a sip of your iced coffee before speaking.
“Oh, thank you! That’s good to hear.”
“Yeah, um… hey if you weren’t busy after this, I was wondering if you wanted to go get lunch.”
“Oh… um, I’m good, thank you though.” You wanted to be nice, but you weren’t really looking for anything at the moment, wanting to focus on your career. Your response didn’t seem to satisfy the intern though. You can tell by the way his brows scrunched together for a second in irritation before the expression fell back to a nonchalant one.
“Come onnn, I know this really good burger spot downtown-“
“I’m okay-“
“Do you not want burgers? We can get sushi or-“
“Umm-“
“She said she’s good.” Miguel’s hardened voice always sent a shiver down your spine, having to take a step back when he put himself between you and the shorter male, if looks could kill…
“Lo-look man… I-I’m not trying to cause any trouble.” The cocky attitude immediately vanished from the intern, his hands now shaky as they were raised in a defensive manner.
“How about you just show her where she has to go hmm?” It wasn’t a suggestion.
Needless to say he didn’t speak another peep to you the rest of the walk.
Not proofread.
Word count: 600
taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf (if you want to be added for part two, click here)
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luveline · 11 hours
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jade my heart I’m really feeling Peter parker tonight in this chilis. maybe just Pete listening to r go on about something she likes? Like a book or a tv show and he’s just listening but also so obsessed with her and thinks she’s adorable? I love u! 🫶🏻
ily ty for requesting <3 fem
“It’s a prequel, you know?” 
Peter feels fondness for you pretty much every second of the day, but the way you’re asking without looking at him, and the way you’re laying across his lap so unbothered, he finds himself grinning like a mad man. “I did not know that,” he says. 
You nod up and down with a severe sort of look about you, as though this is of the utmost importance. If Peter doesn’t get on the same page as you soon, he’s not gonna make it. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen the first trilogy. Like, I like you so much, but where the hell have you been?” 
“Where have I been?” he wonders. 
“Anyways, that’s not the point, sorry. They’re complicated movies. You’d like them, though. Next time I’ll bring my DVD’s and we can watch them, if you want to, you’ll really like them, or you’ll really like Natalie Portman, at least. She’s beautiful. And her character is so… complicated, I guess, she’s doomed from the beginning of the narrative and she’s the catalyst for so much but she’s also just… sorry, I’m being totally boring.” 
“Says who?” 
Doesn’t take much more than that to get you rolling again, you want to tell him that badly, “I don’t wanna spoil it anymore because I really think you’ll love them if you watch them, but you’re gonna need to watch the first trilogy to get the emotional impact, and you’ll love them, don’t worry.” 
“I’ll love them,” he agrees, attempting to lean down for a kiss. 
“Wait, is this a shut me up kiss?” you whisper. 
Peter shakes his head as he kisses you, serving for a wobbly but soft press of your lips to his. “Never. Tell me everything about it.” 
You talk until you’re hoarse, literally hoarse, and Peter has to make you a cup of water. His cheeks are hurting from smiling at you. You’ve never looked this cute, not once, not even when he took you to Coney Island and you screamed the house down on all the rides. 
“I think we better go and get those DVDs,” he says. 
“It’s dark out,” you say. 
“We’ll swing.” 
“Isn’t that against your code of ethics?” You sip your drink, pointing at him. “We’ll hear someone who needs help on the way and you’ll drop my extended editions to save them.” 
“I won’t drop anything,” he says. “Come on! Come on, if you’re this excited just talking about it I wanna see how pretty you are when we’re actually watching the movies.” 
You press your smile into a line. “You’re not just humouring me?” 
“I could listen to you talk for hours, baby, but you sound like you did the second time we got off of The Cyclone.” 
You do a spinning, meandering dance into his arms. “If you insist.” 
Your feigned reluctance is adorable. He grabs you in both hands for another misaligned kiss.
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innerwomen · 2 days
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Jasmine Tea and Cakes
Paring: Zuko x Reader
TYPE: suggestion. Fluffy
WARNINGS: none.
Summary: While on a mission as a spy for the Fire Nation in Ba Sing Sa you go to a shop for tea, and who do you find? Your childhood bestfriend who was banned the night you were planning to confess.
Parts: Here is where this suggestion stemmed from, though that and this fic can both be read as stand alones.
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Thank you @icantwaittoliveandlearn for the motivation and inspiration of this fic!
Message: I’m back from the dead! Updates will be slow but I’m coming back to my rhythm, I had been unmotivated and overwhelmed but, here, a peace offering a fluffy Zuko Fic.
It’s been months but it’s felt like years since you had to watch Zuko and uncle Iroh leave the Fire Nation and be in search of the Avatar.
You tried busying yourself in the mean time, but every time you tried your mind would subconsciously rear itself back to Zuko; back to the conversation both of you had the night before he left and the day he lost in the Agni Kai. You worried that he would lose himself while trying to earn back his honor but you trusted that Iroh would always steer him back on the right path. ——-
While Zuko was away, the Fire Nations hunger for domination grew and the main target was Ba Sing Sa. You were told the infiltration would happen from inside the great Earth city. Hence why you and a couple other Firebenders were sent to live undercover in the city for a week. You only agreed to this order because you saw it as a means to escape the Fire Nation undetected. You didn’t want to spend another second in the country that had such a man as Ozai as its leader and voice of reason.
You had been making your plans, and on Friday you planned to abandon the mission and make your way to an earth village away from the big city.
While spying, or more accurately said, exploring; the city you found many intriguing things. Such as the spices and herbs, the cuisine and clothing. It was all so new and exciting, you were truly enjoying yourself. You had also gotten into the habit, since arriving, to go a new restaurant every night; to take advantage of the little time you’d have in the capital. Tonight’s restaurant was a tea shop that you had heard from many locals and tourist, was absolutely delicious sweets and bliss teas.
When you reached the street the little shop was sat at, you could already smell the jasmine, chamomile, ginger and spearmint seeping from its windows and front entrance. When you walked in you immediately noticed the calm ambient and staff. This place was sure to live up to its expectations.
“Hello, Ms! Please have a seat anywhere you like, one of our waiters will be with you shortly.” One of the staff members says smiling as they served customers and spoke to you.
“Thank you.” You say before making your way to a table by a window with a good view of the street from the seat. You peered over the menu, reading the plethora of tea and cake options.
“I’m Lee, your server. What do you want to order?” Suddenly a bored and rather irritated voice asks.
You put the menu down to get a look at this Lee who’s voice held such attitude and sass. When you look up you instantly recognize the face, and scar. “Zuko?” You ask quietly making sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you and it really was the boy you haven’t stopped worrying about since you last saw him.
When the server boy sees your face that was originally obscured from the menu he drops his note pad and pen and his eyes widen. “Y/n?” He breaths with disbelief.
At hearing your name you stand up and throw your arms around Zuko into a hug, without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your torso and brings you in closer.
Muffled by his face buried in your shoulder Zuko mumbles, “I’ve missed you, Y/n.”
“Me too. A lot.”
You both pull away from each other and you can’t help but notice how well his scar has healed; and how confident Zuko looks once again. “What are you doing here, Zuko?” How in the world did he end up working in a tea shop; how ironic.
“Well after the search for the Avatar, Azula was on our trail and one thing lead to another- now I work at a tea shop and Uncle Iroh has a bumming business.” He says humbly as he takes his hand through his hair. “But how are you here?”
“Long story short, I was offered to spy from the inside of Ba Sing Se and I only agreed as an opportunity to leave behind all ties with the Fire Nation.” You say almost proud of the plan that you’ve made.
“Your going to become a runaway?” He asks shocked, “that’s what you want? You know if they catch you-”
You signal him to calm his rambling, “I know the consequences and outcomes, and I am taking the risk. Because it’s worth it.” You say smiling reassuringly. “Now tell me everything that’s happened since we’ve last saw each other! I bet you’ve had amazing adventures and have visited new places.” You say excited, as you sit him in the seat across from you to hear everything you’ve missed since the banishment.
Midway through one of his stories you hear and can see the character growth the boy before you underwent. He changed. It showed in the way he spoke calmly and slowly, the way his shoulder relaxed when he spoke, and most obvious to you, the way his eye were clearer. No longer fogged by his father’s ideology or pressure. He has bettered himself and though you know it was hard, you were so proud, because he did it for himself.
“LEE! We are twelve orders behind what is holding you up?” Iroh’s voice booms as he walks out of the kitchen with trays full of orders. When he looks across the room he stops when he sees his nephew seated across from you. “Y/n?” When he sees you smile, he knows it’s you, “Y/N!” Quickly he runs over and engulfs you in a huge.
“Uncle Iroh!” You say just as happy to see the man who practically raised you alongside Zuko.
“What a lovely suprise! Here,” he places a beautiful blue tea cup with delicate drawings of flowers and vines along with its matching saucer in front of you, “Tea is often best enjoyed with the company of others. You two catch up, I’ll wrangle down another server to help with the orders.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
“Thank you, Iroh!”
You take a slow sip, the hot liquid warms you up and the honey it’s mixed with a nice balm as it glides down while you swallow. “Mmmhm. Just as good as always.” You smile, “Ok, what was it you were saying about a secret tunnel?”
Zuko who was completely distracted by your look of happiness blurts, “I missed you.”
Your smile reaches your eyes as you set your hand over Zuko’s, “Me too.”
Quickly awaken from his trance by the physical touch he embarrassedly asks trying not to stumble over his words, “What was it you wanted to know again?”
“Everything, Zuko. Everything.”
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luxaofhesperides · 15 hours
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Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.
He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.
....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.
The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.
Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 
He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 
One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 
They’ll never get to meet. 
Duke had never felt so alone before. 
He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 
But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 
So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.
No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.
Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.
And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…
Did it… grow? 
Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 
But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 
Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.
Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 
“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 
Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 
He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 
The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 
And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 
The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 
There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.
Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.
“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.
As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 
He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 
As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 
Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 
He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.
At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 
Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 
He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 
“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”
“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”
“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.
“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”
Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”
“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”
“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 
“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 
And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.
At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.
Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 
The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 
He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 
It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 
They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.
For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 
He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 
He should have known that normal means boring as hell.
As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.
Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 
Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 
Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.
Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 
Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 
No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.
Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.
They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 
Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.
In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.
Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.
“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”
“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.
“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”
“I think I need to sit down?”
He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.
“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”
“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”
“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”
His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”
What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?
“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”
“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”
“Dude.”
Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”
Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.
“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”
“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”
“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”
“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”
Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”
“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 
“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 
“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’m guessing you like space?”
“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”
“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”
Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 
“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”
“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 
The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 
“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 
“Man, what a day.” 
Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.
“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.
“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”
“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”
“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”
“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”
“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”
Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”
“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”
He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!
Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 
Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 
And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.
He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 
Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.
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stariikis · 3 days
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what's your ETA?
synopsis ; in a crowded train headed towards your friend's art showcase, you and your boyfriend are caught in an awkward position.
pairing ; non-idol!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, literal forced proximity wc ; 1180 warnings ; kissing (a lil bit in public), lots of teasing, and mentions of height difference..
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“I swear, if you make one more cup of coffee and insist you have to drink it before we go, I'll personally push you onto the train tracks.”
Nearly spitting out his beverage, Riki swallows abruptly and coughs. “Now, I would say I’m used to your violent tendencies, but that’s just gory. But I’d honestly like to see it.” His eyes shine with an unsettling excitement that has you blinking rapidly. 
“You won’t be alive to see it…” You tilt your head and feign confusion. In reality, this is both your way of flirty banter. Since Riki just loves to tease you, you believe it’s only fair that you should be allowed to tease back. However, your version of teasing is questionably rude at times, way worse than any fireball of quips Riki showers you with. 
“You wanna go or not?” Riki sighs, his mug making a clunking sound on the table when he puts it down. “I’m ready to just sit here and argue with you until night — I’m not the one desperate to see Sunoo’s art exhibition.” 
“No, I swear it’s not because I’m desperate to go. You’re the one who’s closer to him though?” You shake your head and frown in bewilderment. “Fake friend.” 
Riki whips around in his seat. “Pick me!”
”Bad boyfriend!” You erupt into laughter and lunge forward to ruffle his hair. 
Playing along, Riki gets up and pushes you gently away from him. But at the same time his fingers grab ahold of your wrist, holding you close, like he doesn’t really mean it. He’s casting the bait, eyes that look deeply and adoringly into yours glimmering with enthusiasm. 
“You’re taking it to heart. Don’t take it to heart,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss you, voice dropping down to a low. “Pathological liar.” Before you have time to protest, he giggles, hugging you close as if daring you to spit out another one of your alleged, ‘lies’. 
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When you both reach the station, its difficult to see through the sardine-packed crowd of people in front of you. “It… is so crowded,” you tiptoe to be able to whisper in Riki’s ear – and even that’s not enough, he has to lean down with a huff of amusement for you to reach. “Why is it so crowded today?” 
Shrugging his shoulders loosely, Riki slips his hand into yours, squeezing it tight. “You’re the one who wanted to go to this art show.” He mutters quietly. “Kim Sunoo’s, no less. You know we can just ask him to conduct a private show for us?” 
“Is supporting your friends a concept nonexistent to you?” You snap, feigning irritation but responding by rubbing your thumb over his. Your boyfriend pretends to be hurt by this, staggering backwards as much as he can in the crowd. His free hand clutching his chest, the playful atmosphere set by your banter fades when he looks at you. Wearing a gentle smile, he leads you into the train when the doors and gates slide open. 
He manages to secure you both a spot along the wall near the right-hand-side doors. You can tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wants to find you a seat too, but you’re probably going to get dirty looks from the elderlies if you do so. Luckily, he saves you the social torture and doesn’t force you to take a seat. 
The first few stops the train makes are still bearable. Riki is squashed a little too close for comfort at times, caging you in against the wall while you just stare ahead as if nothing’s happening. You ignore the tingles the situations send, all the way from your neurons down to your toes. However, when the crowd dissolves as they alight at their respective stations, you can breathe a sigh of relief. 
Like usual, Riki makes a snide remark about your morning breath (even though you’re quite certain your dental routine is competent), and returns to scroll on his phone. What disheartens you, though, is how genuinely uninterested he seems in Sunoo’s exhibit. And how bored he seems to be, despite being here with you. 
There’s a nonchalant faze across his face as he scrolls social media, leaning in close with a hand adjusting its grip on the grab bar next to you. You tilt your head, chest starting to ache. Does he really not care as much as you’d like to think he does? To not even feel an ounce of excitement in this moment? 
The train screeches to a halt as if agreeing with your intrusive thoughts. There’s still a long way to travel downtown to where the exhibit is held, and unfortunately for you, this is the most crowded station the train has stopped at by far. So many people pour into the carriage that it’s not even five seconds before Riki’s whole body is pressed up against yours. 
He drops the arm holding his phone down to his side. 
People are pushing you on both sides, and suddenly there’s a wave of gratefulness that you’re not stuck in the middle of the carriage. As if your current situation isn’t painful enough. Your boyfriend can’t meet your eyes, and it’s not surprising. With your noses mere inches apart (only because of the height difference), even you, usually assertive and confident, have to look into the distance. 
“Sorry…” Riki says in a hushed tone, moving his lips closer to your ear. His head has practically dropped down onto your shoulder, and you can feel yourself filled with vigorous tremors. He slips his phone into his back pocket, and the hand previously holding it snakes protectively around your waist. You blink up at him, expecting a warm look down, but all you’re met with is narrowed eyes carefully scanning the surroundings. 
His neck still dipped downwards, he hugs you close when the final few people slip into the train. Clearly feeling you shaking, he hums soothingly into your ear, “you’re safe”. “You have me.” “Don’t be too scared.” Anything else he says goes in one ear and goes out the other. 
Because. In such a situation, what would you expect your boyfriend to proceed to do? a), Accept fate and stay in position, b), shyly turn away from the deathly awkwardness, or c), giggle and tilt his head to pepper kisses along your neck? 
Riki chose C. 
He’s so gross, you think, but only when you’re stumbling out the train and running all the way to Sunoo’s exhibit to save yourself from remembering the situation more. Why did he ever do that? I should have shoved him away and called him a pervert and acted as if I didn’t know him. 
What a lie — when he was pressing a final kiss against your cheek your first thought wasn’t even remotely close to wanting to shove him away. Rather, you had pouted, arms wrapped around his neck, because he’s going to have to make up for being both indifferent towards you and making you so late. 
(It is never really his fault.)
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thank you for reading! i'm so sorry for the lack of uploads recently, life has just gotten a little bit busier and i finally got a lil break so i decided to write this prompt i thought of a while back!
more of my works >
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gordonmurraysugarbaby · 12 hours
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Something in the Orange – LN4
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lando norris x fem!mclaren!driver!reader
When Oscar leaves McLaren for RedBull, you have no idea what you're getting into becoming McLaren's second driver...and what that means for you and your new teammate. A specific country song doesn’t help, but it makes all the difference.
content warnings: misogyny, mention of social media hate, and a lot of crying...I think that's it, I promise it has a happy ending. angst adjacent, but maybe that's underselling it.
word count: 2.7K
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You had thick skin. You had to in order to be a woman in motorsports, but some of the comments in articles and on social media about your promotion still hurt.
The path you took to Formula One was…not traditional. Sure, you’d grown up karting with the boys, but as you got older, you switched to racing in some of the IMSA classes—first MX-5 Cup then Carrera Cup. Starting out in the Miata—a car that was referred to in one of the many Top Gear episodes you watched as a kid as “a sports car for girls and blokes who like ABBA”—had given you a taste for the real wheel-to-wheel racing that you had yearned for in karting and you skyrocketed from there.
When Zak Brown contacted you, you figured it had to be for the McLaren IndyCar team. You almost dropped your phone when he said that he wanted you as McLaren’s F1 reserve driver for 2026.
The team had been unbelievably welcoming and you bonded with the girls on the team immediately—even making a group chat called “hot girl garage” that included some of the engineers and social media/marketing admin, and the past and current F1 academy drivers. Oscar and Lando were nice, but you didn’t talk with them much, and you still felt like a nobody in the garage most of the time, so you understood.
Your times on the test track said otherwise.
When Oscar signed with RedBull for 2027, you were as shocked as the rest of the team. The news that you would be taking his seat lost in the sea of anguish from everyone at McLaren. You were excited, but they were big shoes to fill, and your future teammate had taken the announcement pretty hard. He was chipper in interviews, but in all the meetings you had with the rest of the team—beginning to make preparations for your onboarding as a fully-fledged driver—his eyes were lackluster and your conversations were brief.
The reality that the two of you would be teammates and not just generally amicable coworkers was bearing down on you. Lando wasn’t bad to look at, but it felt like he hated you, and you knew something had to give before pre-season.
It was after one of the last meetings following Abu Dhabi, the team had done well that year and you were desperately trying to ignore the weight of those implications for next year, that you you grabbed Lando’s hand.
Taken aback by the sudden contact, he turned to face you—looking at you as though you were a stranger.
“Hey,” you start, trying to sound normal—like you aren’t about to shit bricks over your imminent rookie season, “I’m sorry I haven’t been more...proactive in getting to know you. I know I’m no Oscar, but it’ll be fun to learn from you...I’m looking forward to it.”
He still looks a bit stunned.
You realize you’re still holding his hand and you let go. His hands are a lot softer than yours, but maybe that’s just in your head.
“Yeah…no worries. You’re going to be great.” He says, a bit stilted. “Let me know if you need anything.” He turns from you, his brow still slightly furrowed, but his eyes linger on yours a second longer than it feels like they should have.
You hate that you flush easily, and you feel your cheeks quickly as you walk back to your ‘office’ hoping they’re not too hot and that no one has noticed it they are.
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P6. It’s not bad for your first race, amazing really.
You and Lando had finally broken whatever ice there was between you before the start of the season, probably thanks to the dumb games the media team made you play for the sake of bonding, but neither of you would admit that. You were funny and he appreciated how childish you could be at times; the two of you were well-aware of the perfect storm you could easily create with your antics.
The races seem to fly by.
P8.
P5.
P4.
P10.
P7.
P3.
P6.
P2.
It’s unheard of. People were comparing you to Lewis Hamilton, but despite the praise, you had to leave all your social media to the team as the hate comments became unbearable.
As much as you enjoy your second podium finish, the celebrations are cut short by some misogynist asshole who had somehow made his way into the media tent. You maintained your composure as the man yelled profanities that had to be bleeped in the tv coverage, with cameras cutting back to overhead angles of the track as the commentators apologized for the interruption in an effort to preserve the sanctity of the sport.
You finished your interviews quickly, making blunt comments about the need for better recognition of women in the sport:
“We’ve always been here,” you say, your face steeled to the camera, “and none of us are going to back down because you call us names. I deserve just as much respect as the other drivers.”
You thank the interviewer before heading to the team motor-home. You walk as though you’re on autopilot, a mildly content look plastered on your face as you ignore the photographers and people asking for further comments.
Lando finds you there a few minutes later with your head in your hands, ignoring the message from the team that you wanted space.
“Hey,” he says quietly, sitting down next to you and delicately placing a hand on your back before continuing, “y/n…I’m really sorry. I wish I could have done more.”
You haven’t moved. His breath catches in his throat when he realizes you’re not breathing.
“Y/n you have to breathe.” The concern evident in his voice.
It’s then that he realizes your arms are soaking wet—the tears streaming silently down your face and into the fire-resistant base layer.
Lando pulls you up to face him. Your eyes are red and you choke on air slightly as he runs his fingers across your tear-stained cheeks, trying desperately to heal the pain he knows he can’t.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything—I won’t tell anyone.”
The two of you had never been very touchy, but you were more than thankful that he pulled you into him then. He texted the team that he was with you and that you were doing ok—comparatively that is—only leaving your side on occasion to get you more water. He stayed with you well into the night, listening to the sad country music that he knew you loved so much (now understanding partially why) and reminding you that he was there as you tried not to drown in the swirling pool of doubt, grief, anger, and frustration inside your head.
He watched the sun set outside. You had fallen asleep against him, exhausted from the exertion of the race and crying for hours. You were always so strong he thought to himself, turning to look down at you. The tension was finally gone from your face as you slept, and he wondered to himself when you’d learned to cry without making a sound.
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From that race onward, Lando was your rock on the team. Everyone was supportive of you obviously, you were their shining star, but Lando let you go almost nowhere without him. He stood awkwardly close to you for all of your interviews, and when he was politely told that he couldn't be in the shot—which happened frequently—he would back up only *just* far enough to be out of frame, but never more. You joked that he was your guard dog, but if you were honest he was more like a puppy.
He'd tackle you when you did a good job in training and would run through the crowd to pull you into a tight hug whenever you finished well in a race...which was...every race now that you thought about it.
The breathless smiles the two of you would exchange in each other's arms, steam sometimes rising off your skin slightly as you cooled off from being in the hot cars, were incentive enough alone for you to want to win…or at least get p5 or better.
The abuse from so-called fans continued, but it was drowned out by the waves of support you got from the real fans who cheered you on with every victory. Lando was diligent in his habit of sending you tweets and tiktok compilations about the two of you. You'd always send a thumbs down to the messages, but you both knew there was a bit more than friendly camaraderie behind the celebratory hugs, shoulder bumps between interviews, and the three taps he gave your helmet every time you got in the car.
By the time Silverstone had rolled around, the two of you were practically attached at the hip. Most meetings contained at least one instance of either of you smacking the other on the head with something as a greeting, when you had down-time it was almost inevitable that one of you was sleeping in some seemingly uncomfortable position on the other, and your habit of frequently taunting one another into sporadic games of tag when you were at home for testing or training meant that the media team had no shortage of content.
Your sad country playlist had turned from your coping mechanism into your and Lando's personal carpool karaoke playlist. He'd never listened to that much country music before, but watching you sing your heart out to the sad lyrics as the two of you drove along the roads in the British countryside had won him over on the genre. That said, there were some songs on the playlist that he always made you skip because he thought they were too sad.
He wouldn't admit it to you, but he'd saved almost the whole playlist and would listen to the songs on his own when he needed to. He’d listen to the ones he knew you liked when he wanted to remember the way you smiled when they came on, and he’d listen to the saddest ones...well, those had their time and place.
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The day the two of you had your argument was one of the days he listened to the sad songs that he always made you skip. He stood there, unable to move, watching from a window as you drove away from the MTC.
After your win at Silverstone, only somewhat guiltily stealing p1 from your teammate at his home race, you'd been approached by Ferrari. They wanted you onboard for the next season—who wouldn't, it was your first season and you'd just beat out every other team on the track with almost no real F1 development.
Lando wasn't excited when you'd told him. He was sensitive, more than he'd like to admit, and the thought of losing you—the third teammate he would have lost to a transfer since the start of his F1 career was unbearable. You'd hadn't seen things from his perspective, and you were maybe a bit too harsh with him when you had said you didn't think of all people that he'd be the one trying to hold you back.
But he wasn't, at least not intentionally anyway. He was trying desperately not to let the one person he loved cared about on this team slip out of his hands. In that moment he felt like he had failed.
The chords of the song pulled at his heart strings as it began to play through his headphones. He closed his eyes and thought about the last few months with you. He remembered the way your head had felt slumped against his shoulder for the first time in Montreal, the way you'd jokingly tell him that you missed him when you hadn't seen each other in a week or so—knowing that there was a bit of truth to it despite your sarcasm, the way you looked in the early morning trainings out at the track—your papaya race suit matching the orange halo glowing around the edges of your head as the sun rose behind you.
He felt the warmth of the sun on his face as it dipped closer to the horizon. He opened his eyes and sighed, the lyrics of the song echoing in his head. He knew where he needed to go, he knew how he felt, and he knew he couldn't lose you.
Not like this.
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The tears streamed silently down your cheeks to the back of your jaw as you drove home. The road in front of you was a messy blur of different shades of orange from the sunset as you approached your apartment.
You didn't know why you had been so upset with Lando. In all honesty you didn't know what to do. You were a talented driver, but you never expected things to go so well in your rookie season. It was no longer the pressure to do well that got to you, but the expectation that you would eventually become a champion that scared you. You felt like you were drowning again, and you'd just pushed away your lifeline.
Maybe Lando was right, you should turn down the offer and stay with McLaren...but you weren't sure he would even want to be friends after this. The thought brought even more tears to your eyes, blinding you as you parked your car and walked towards the building.
You paused when you reached the top of the path. The apartment building was on a bit of a hill, and you always enjoyed the view from this spot. Looking out across the scenery, bathed in golden light and shades of orange from the sunset above, you notice a McLaren pulling into the parking lot.
It's Lando.
You're frozen in place at the sight of your teammate turned best friend sprinting up the hill towards you. Part of you is almost surprised that he remembered how to get to your house since he'd only been to your apartment once. He's out of breath when he reaches you and his eyes are red from crying on the drive over. Instinctively, he clutches your arms; his grasp is gentle, but with a subtle tension—as though his life depended on holding you like this at least one last time.
"Please.." He gasps after a moment, trying to catch his breath, "I'm sorry, y/n...please," you watch as his eyes glaze over a bit from the tears forming in them, "I don't care if you go, just please don't leave me." His normally steady voice now trembling with emotion.
It's in this moment that you realize why he wanted you to stay. You're his teammate. Even in such a short time, the two of you had become closer to one another than he'd ever been with Carlos or Oscar, and he knew that you leaving the team would likely mean the end of the kind of friendship you had now.
You'd never seen him like this: shaken with the fear of losing his friend, losing you. He looked at you pleadingly.
You had already decided.
You wanted to end the kind of friendship you had now.
Bringing one of your hands to his cheek, you brushed away some of his tears, looking across his face with your own blurry eyes.
"Lando...I'm never going to leave you. You're my first teammate." You smile, blinking a bit to clear the tears from your eyes. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you earlier," you continued, now stroking his cheek lightly with your thumb, "I'm scared too, and I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."
You meet his gaze again as his grip loosens, he's looking at you softly, the warm glow of the sunset intensifying behind him. You can't stand it any longer, but as soon as you reach for the back of his head, he beats you to it. Wrapping one of his arms around you to pull you close and guiding your face to his with his other hand.
His lips were warm on yours. It was like you had been parched your whole life and this was your first taste of water. The tension between the two of you from the argument before and from the past months of calculated glances and secret hand squeezes in the paddock finally melting away. The two of you only pulled away from each other when you had to breathe; laughing as you gasped for air and smiling at one another in the deep glow of the setting sun.
When you re-sign with McLaren at the end of the season, you know what you're doing and you don't feel lost.
When you get home to Lando that night, he smiles as he walks towards you across the apartment.
"Congratulations love," he said softly, pausing to kiss you, "I knew you'd come home."
You laugh and shake your head as his eyes dance across your face, there really was something about that papaya orange that you just couldn't seem to get enough of.
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author's note: @arieslost continues to be my bad influence, so you can thank her for this. Only minor editing soooo fuck it we ball. Based on the song by the same title by Zach Bryan (listen to the Z&E's version if you want to listen to it, it's better imo). Ignore the firestorm that would happen on social media if the ending happened in real life ok, I know it's not realistic just shhhhh ignore it.
tag list: @arieslost @venusacrossthestars (my enablers <3)
dividers created by, and slightly modified from, @/saradika
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daydreamrot · 17 hours
Text
naptime with the love and deepspace men
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includes; rafayel, zayne & xavier
tags; fluff, established relationships, pet names, gender-neutral reader
a/n: have really been craving some fluff & angst writing lately, so i wrote this. plus i had a bad day & i’m on my period so this is me just comforting myself at this point. would love it if y’all sent some fluff or angst prompts my way!
masterlist • link to ao3 • 1.4k words • requests are open
rafayel
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“raf, you’ve worked through the night for three days straight. you can hardly keep your eyes open!” you accuse him, tapping your foot impatiently. he was so enraptured in his latest works that he hardly slept, not to mention the ongoing preparations for the upcoming showcase. “this isn’t healthy babe, you gotta get some rest,” you lecture. 
“my bodyguard, my part-time assistant, my partner, and now… my babysitter?” he teases. good to know his snark was still ever present on little sleep. “if that is what it takes to get you to sleep, then yes, consider me your babysitter” you say with annoyance, tugging on his sleeve with a pout across your feature. he unsuccessfully shuts you up with a tender kiss to your lips, his hand gingerly cupping your cheek. he rests his forehead against yours, reveling in your presence. he would never admit it, but he was so grateful to have someone who cared so much about him.
“you’re distracting me,” you pout. “can i at least convince you to take a nap with me, my love?” you practically beg. he sighs softly, discarding his paintbrush. “fine, but only because you asked so sweetly” he remarks, pulling you by the hand towards the bedroom if only to stop your incessant distractions. 
you take a warm wash cloth to wipe the paint from his body and set out some comfortable pajamas for him. “awfully thoughtful of you,” he yawns, still an edge of playfulness in his tone. “you would complain if there was paint upon your sheets, would you not?” you joke playfully. “touché,” rafayel replies with a shrug, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a second yawn.
you practically drag him into the sheets, cuddling as close as possible, knowing that he wouldn’t have it any other way. “comfortable?” you ask. “i wish you were here each time i needed sleep… perhaps the task wouldn’t feel so bothersome,” he says, his hand gently rubbing your lower back. you absentmindedly trace circles on the open part of his chest, as your eyes begin to flutter shut.
“move in with me?” rafayel says, his voice tinged with exhaustion, but his normal playful demeanor had evaporated. he was serious. “y-you’re serious?” you ask, searching for some hint of sarcasm behind his purple irises — but there was none. he only nods, beginning to drift off into much needed rest. 
you agree without really thinking, “o-ok, my lease is up soon anyways,” you respond softly, a smile stretching wide across your face. “i know, now shhh… it’s naptime,” rafayel says, pressing a soft kiss onto your cheek as he spoons you. he nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your addictive scent before truly passing out for some much needed rest. 
you lie in his arms peacefully, but far too excited about the prospect of living together to sleep. you didn’t mind though… raf was cute when he was sleeping.
zayne
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“have you read the latest research about naps?” you ask nonchalantly, trying to politely ignore zayne as he continually nods off during your lunch date. you had decided to surprise him with a nice lunch at his apartment, but had no idea he had been in back-to-back surgeries since 5am. “hm?” he asks, picking at a few blueberries you had left on his plate. you can tell he’s struggling to even stay awake to finish up his lunch at this point.
“they say short power naps reduce fatigue, increase alertness and attention, boost your mood, and more,” you explain. “you’ve been working extra hours lately, with complicated surgeries. i cannot imagine the stress and the exhaustion you must be feeling, but zayne… this isn’t sustainable,” you say, cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb across his smooth skin. 
“since when did you start reading medical journals?” he asks with a yawn, which was a begrudging admission that you had a point. “when i fell in love with a doctor,” you say with a soft chuckle, gingerly taking his hand and guiding him into the bedroom. you were pretty sure he’d run into a wall if you let him walk there by himself. you assist him out of his white coat and scrubs, folding them neatly at the foot of the bed — something zayne insisted on for hygiene sake. 
you gently pull the covers over his sleepy body, and kiss his forehead. “i’ll wake you in 20 minutes, ok?” you say, turning to leave when a firm grip on your wrist causes you to do a double take. “weren’t you the one listing the benefits of a power nap to me merely a minute ago? I’d be a poor doctor if you didn’t also partake in such groundbreaking medical research,” he says, struggling to stifle a yawn. 
you open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you didn’t want to distract him while he caught up on sleep. he would have none of it, drawing you closer to him. “nonsense,” he yawns. “research shows that sleeping beside someone lowers your blood pressure, strengthens your immune system, and reduces inflammation,” he explains. “you will make my sleep better, i assure you,” zayne says firmly. impressive how he was able to be so stubborn when fighting off such exhaustion.
you oblige, never able to hold out against his iron will. you slide yourself under the covers beside him. it isn’t long before he hesitantly pulls you close to his chest. sleepiness makes him a bit more casual with affection as he presses a few soft kisses to your shoulder as a ‘thanks for joining me’. you press a soft kiss to his forehead as he drifts off to sleep, “rest well, my doctor zayne,” you murmur, before caving to sleep yourself.
he smells faintly of hand sanitizer and deodorant. he’s surprisingly warm, despite being known for his ice evol. he gently cradles you against him, as if to remind both himself and you, that he was there. the scent of your shampoo and perfume mixing in a delicate aroma that was so uniquely you. he almost hated to waste your limited time together just sleeping, but it’s these moments that ground zayne the most.
these stolen moments where his fast-paced lifestyle of research, life-saving surgeries, and fending off wanderers finally slow down. it’s often these memories he returns too when he is most stressed. he feels as though time itself has frozen. it’s the only thing he’ll ever ask from the universe — more quiet moments with you
xavier
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“how about a movie?” you offer, cuddled up beside him on the couch. no response. you nudge him softly, watching his long eyelashes flutter in response. “y-yeah, movie sounds nice,” he mumbles, wiping his eyes.
“love, if you don’t learn to fall asleep at normal times, you’ll never catch up on your rest,” you say, running your nails gently through his hair and scratching softly at his scalp. he hums in response, a yawn escaping him. “and if you keep doing that, how am i meant to stay awake, angel?” he asks softly, his voiced laced with sleepiness. you chuckle, he had a fair point.
“but you’ll miss the best part,” you say, nudging him to look at the screen as the couple in the romantic comedy finally confess their true feelings. xavier smiles. “it appears it was worth it for such a scene,” he remarks, pulling you into a soft kiss, almost as if trying to mimic the onscreen tenderness. you return it as your hands gently cup his cheeks. “wide awake now,” he says, his head resting on your shoulder as his blue eyes focus on you instead of the movie at hand.
this goes on for awhile until you finally call him out, breaking him out of his daze. “honey, you’re staring,” you say, nudging him gently. “i can’t help that you’re more entertaining than the film. you have a way of… distracting me, calming me,” xavier whispers, his voice as slow as a drip of molasses. “hm,” you hum, “should I be apologizing?” you yawn, growing tired yourself. he shakes his head ‘no’.
noticing your own sleepy demeanor, he pulls you closer so that you can rest your head comfortably against his chest. his slow, rhythmic heartbeat like a steady metronome drawing you closer to unconsciousness. you’ve already seen this movie already, allowing your body to relax fully under Xavier’s doting touch. 
“i suppose we could both use a little rest. we’ve worked hard,” he says quietly as he twirls a piece of your hair in his fingers. “all of our dates seem to end up with us napping together,” you tease softly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose and watching gleefully as his cheeks heat up. “perhaps we could convince the wanderers to take it easy for awhile… for our sakes,” xavier jokes, earning a small laugh from you. “that would be ideal, maybe we could take a vacation… really catch up on rest” you say, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“sounds heavenly. perhaps i will see such a vacation in my dreams. now rest,” he says, placing a kiss to the crown of your head as you both ignore the movie in favor for a nap. your bodies pressed against one another under the blanket, and limbs intertwined as your breathing slowly syncs. it’s peaceful. naps were never so enjoyable as they were with xavier.
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© daydreamrot, 2024. the best way to support me is to reblog with feedback, reply, and send asks. do not feed my work to an AI or attempt to plagiarize as your own.
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tobyfier · 1 day
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Yandere Francis, headcannons of how we met into him gaining feelings that slowly turn into obsession and him kidnapping us etc etc.
Say it again.
;Gender neutral reader
Warning: obsession,toxic relationship,Stockholm syndrome,manipulation,swearing
Additional information: Reader is a baker
A/n: I’m not much experience with yandere type of stuffs, but I’m more welcome to try! Also this is actually my first request, and I hope I made it to your liking!
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I’d say he did hear from the other tenants that there was gonna be a new person in the apartment but he didn’t really try and meet the person, to focus on his job and the doppelgänger situation
That is until of course, you went and greeted him yourself by knocking on his door and giving him a bag of cookies before bidding goodbye
The cookies were delicious btw, he couldn’t stop eating them
And one day as an act of gratitude for giving him the cookie, he came by at your apartment and gave you a couple of bottle milk
Supposedly he was just gonna thank you and give the tray of bottle of milks, but you insisted on letting him inside and get to know each other for a bit
That’s when he learns you were actually a baker and that you own a bakery
Huh..no wonder
You guys were on friends terms now
You always buy milk from him saying, the consistency of the milk was great
He gives milk and you give cookies, a win/win
The feelings started to appear after a month or so
It started off small he feels lighter and energized whenever you’re around, and he would get excited just by seeing your face
He started talking to you more, often times he would write letters to you whenever he’s out in the city for a few days
Day by day his feelings started to grow stronger and stronger, to the point he can’t go a day without even seeing your face once
But when he realized you liked him back, he had to double check if he heard you right
He made you say it again and again before he hugged you and thank the god’s above
You two started to live with each other after that
It was peaceful and comforting
Morning kisses is a must.
He comes home later than you, and he’s always happy to receive your kisses afterwards
But the peace..didn’t last long
He started to grow more and more possessive
It started off small..you didn’t mind it at all
Until he started to isolate you from others
You confronted him of course, but he brushed it off saying it was for the best
You didn’t say anything about it, thinking it was him being protective considering the doppelgänger situation
But when he asked you to close your bakery saying it was for the best
That’s when the argument started.
You defended yourself, telling him you can’t close the bakery because of his overprotective tendencies
It was your passion and it was your dream to open up a bakery
Closing it down meant all the efforts you had done to achieve this goes to waste.
The bastard told you that you can still bake in the apartment.
You called him crazy and tried to leave but he had an iron grip on your wrist and pulled you into a bedroom
Then locked it, saying this is for the best
You tried knocking the door down
you tried finding some tools that can help, a fail..
Even the windows were ironed shut
Heck even the windows are ironed shut.
The bastard planned all of this from the start and you didn’t even notice it.
The last few days you gave him the silent treatment
Only ever opened the door to give you food or water
If you didn’t eat he will force feed you.
He tried reasoning with you
That this is all for the best and for your safety
And that you don’t need anyone else but him.
Slowly he started to be more affectionate with you
Oh how you crave those touches..
It has been so long since you received affection like these
Slowly his words got to your mind
Maybe he was right
I mean he provides food,water,shelter,heck he even bought tools so you can bake in the apartment
And all you have to do was accept the situation and that you only needed him.
And no one else.
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heavenlyvision · 2 days
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next time? pairing: Bi-Han x reader wc: 800 warnings: tiniest bit suggestive (only if you squint), idiots, bad flirting, no pronouns or y/n used !! a/n; i wrote this because i was feeling silly and missing him. this is readers poor attempt at flirting with him and Bi-Han's odd and unreadable reactions :3 i just think he's neat !
Craving Bi-han, wanting him close by, wanting to feel his cool flesh pressed close to yours, his breath tickling your ear. It’s all you think about, it’s been haunting you day and night and you don’t know how to deal with it. The powerful need that’s been overwhelming you, it’s infiltrating you in ways that make you look like a complete idiot. Not only is he completely unapproachable but he must think you are some kind of idiot after every interaction you do have with him. It’s becoming too embarrassing, anytime you have to talk with him concerning something, you fumble and mumble and fall all over yourself in general, just from being in front of him.
Every time Liu Kang sends you to talk with Bi-Han on his behalf, you deflate a little, excited to have a reason to speak with him but mostly dreading your awkward and flustered nature. He could kill you on the spot… but he makes you nervous for a whole other reason. It’s getting hard to look him in the eyes when you’ve unfortunately thought about him in much more… compromising positions. Why are you sexualising the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei?
Bi-Han looks down his nose at you, “Get it together.”
Your eyes grow wide, forgetting you actually have to speak for information to be exchanged, “Sorry! I uhm…. Got distracted.”
He doesn’t answer, unamused by how much of his time you’re wasting, he does raise a single brow at you though, still waiting for you to tell him why you’re standing in front of him.
“Oh! Liu Kang asked me to tell you he needs to meet later than he initially said, he’s gotten busy,” you’re shuffling from foot to foot, uncomfortable in front of him, especially since this news is going to piss him off.
You flinch as he groans and his hands move as he asks, “Why? What’s so important he’s made me come all the way here only to wait?” He’s still angry but he drops his hands again, taking note of the way you flinched.
“He… uhh…” you’re trying to think of something to cover for Liu, in all honesty he didn’t tell you why he only told you to tell Bi-Han that he’d have to wait a bit.
“You have no idea, do you?” You shake your head at him and he rolls his eyes, frustration palpable, “What good are you?”
You frown mostly to yourself, “I’m plenty good, it’s not my fault you’re impatient,” you huff. “You will have to wait, like every other human does at least once in their lives,” your words are direct, he’s upset you. You don’t wait for a response from him, instead turning back in the direction you came and walking away hurriedly.
Bi-Han is left standing, surprised by your outburst, not having expected it from you.
⋆⁺₊❅.
When you run into him again, he’s coming back from talking with Liu Kang, seemingly calmed down. You don’t approach him, you stay sitting where you are, waiting for him to pass you by. Instead, he shocks you by standing in front of you, it seems like, he’s always looking down at you.
“I’m not sorry for earlier,” he grumbles at you.
You are confused, mostly because you don’t really care anymore anyways, “…Okay?”
He stands idly for a few moments before asking, “What are you doing?”
You don’t really know how to answer that, so you awkwardly say, “Sitting.”
“You are bad at conversation,” he considers you for a moment before moving to sit next to you on the stone bench.
You guffaw at him, “Me?”
He only offers a simple, “Yes.”
The two of you sit in complete silence, clearly both of you are bad at conversation. You break it first, with possibly the stupidest question you could ask, stupid for so many reasons, “Do you… come here often?”
He eyes you, contemplating for a moment, before deciding not to answer at all. Apparently not deeming it necessary.
Something is apparently possessing you to have loose lips today because you go on to say, “You look… nice today, uh not that you look bad other days, I mean maybe you do but when…when I see you, you look good…uhm…”
It looks like he smirks for a second before it’s gone, “Are you… flirting with me?”
You cringe involuntarily, “I think I might be trying to, yes?”
“Interesting,” he smiles to himself and then stands, “Until next time,” he addresses you by name as he walks away.
What… what the hell was that interaction? What did he mean? Why is your heart racing so hard at seeing his amused smile. You can’t tell if he liked your flirting or thought it was funny how dumb you are. Oh gods, what will he say next time.
⋆⁺₊❅.
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chuluoyi · 2 days
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Lately on Tik Tok I see a lot of videos of little girls who get too excited when they see their dad in his dance performances, and I couldn't help but imagine Gojo going to see his little girl who goes crazy with excitement when she sees him. 😭😭 He is more excited and very sentimental watching his daughter at a recital
ooh he so will😭 and your daughter will feel the happiest bc he’s there cheering her so openly even when it makes other parents turn their heads💁🏻‍♀️
and gojo will go even all out with his gushing too—
“baby girl, papa is here! HERE!!”
“looook my daughter is there, she’s the cutest!”
“sir, sir!! doesn’t the tutu suit her so well?! she’s as pretty as her mom—i can’t😩”
you have given up by this point and your son, who looks at him like he’s crazy, just mutters:
“i’m really glad he doesn’t come to my recital again after that one time😐”
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redroses07 · 1 day
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Heartfirst // Johnnie Guilbert
Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader is best friends with Johnnie and is avoiding telling him her feelings, but it's Tara's 1mil celebration party and she seems to be having some newfound confidence.
WC: 2.3k
Warnings: Swearing, kissing, slightly suggestive, drinking, use of y/n (i tried to avoid i’m sorry)
A/N: Hey guys, this is my first time writing for Johnnie and tbh I'm really proud of it! It took me a few days to finish and I really hope you guys like it. As always requests are open if you wanna see more of this type of stuff. Love y'all sm!! ♡⋆˙
You were at your house getting ready for your roommate Tara's party. She was throwing a party to celebrate reaching 1 million on her Youtube channel, and almost everyone you knew was attending.
Reaching 1 million was an amazing milestone for her and you were so incredibly proud. You were also a content creator with a solid following, but nothing close to what she had accomplished.
You were finished with your hair and makeup and now just had to decide what to wear. You were torn between a silky black slip, or a sparkly gold mini dress.
"Tara come in here I can't decide what to wear!" You shouted down the hall.
Tara comes rushing out of her room, always prepared to give the best fashion advice. She was already dressed but her makeup was noticeably incomplete, only sporting her signature winged eyeliner on one eye.
"Okay, show me the options." Tara exclaimed, clearly filled with excitement.
You went into your closet and emerged holding the two dresses.
"I feel like the black fits better, but it's kinda basic."
Tara looks between the two and smirks.
"Well which one do you think Johnnie would like better?"
Your jaw fell open, clearly embarrassed by her words.
Johnnie was one of your best friends, and Tara's too. You two spent an awful lot of time together, especially recently since you had begun filming together much more frequently. You will admit, you two had chemistry, and your friends and fans alike picked up on it.
You couldn't deny the not so little crush you had on him, but no way you were ever gonna admit that. It took you forever to admit it to even Tara, you would be mortified if Johnnie ever found out. Although that didn't stop Tara from pressuring you almost every day to confess. It was according to her "obvious he felt the same", but you refused to take the risk and find out.
"What! I'm just being real." Tara said, eyeing your nervous expression.
You shook your head, giving her an annoyed glance.
"I say gold. We can be like opposites cause I'm wearing silver." Tara pointed to her dress.
You smiled, throwing the black dress to the side.
"See I can always count on you to make my decisions for me."
Tara laughed and sped out of the room to finish her makeup.
You proceeded to finish getting dressed, and while you did you thought about what Tara had said.
Maybe it was time for you to finally stop avoiding things and fess up, at least you would know the truth. The only drawback was losing your best friend. If Johnnie didn't feel the same then that would surely make your friendship awkward.
Curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, and maybe tonight would be the night you would find out the truth.
You could've said speak of the devil, because right at that moment Tara popped her head into your room to tell you that Jake and Johnnie had arrived.
"I hope you're ready, Jake said they brought a ton of stuff and need help carrying it all inside." Tara said with a sigh.
Her makeup was now complete, eyeliner perfectly symmetrical on both sides and glitter eye shadow completing the look.
"Yeah hold up I'm coming." You replied, jumping up from your seat and sliding your feet into your black platforms.
As you headed out the door and towards the car, you couldn't help but contain your excitement to see Johnnie. This recent rush of confidence has made you more eager and energetic than normal.
When you reached the car the first thing you saw was Jake piling boxes into his arms, and Johnnie very loudly complaining about how much shit he brought.
"What the hell...how much did you guys bring?" Tara asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Uhhhh, lots of food, and lots of alcohol," Jake began.
"Let's just say I'm gonna get fucked up tonight."
Tara rolled her eyes, and reached into the trunk to grab more boxes.
You rounded the corner and crept up behind Johnnie.
"Boo!" You said, causing him to jump and drop the box he was currently holding.
"Y/N!" Johnnie exclaimed the moment he saw you, completely forgetting about the box he had dropped.
"Johnnie, that could've been breakable." Jake huffed half jokingly.
Johnnie replied by flipping him off as he ran in to give you a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he hadn't seen you in forever, when in reality it had only been about two days.
You breathed in the musky scent of his cologne as the hug lasted a bit longer than it should.
You broke apart and took a long look at your best friend. He was wearing a low cut black dress shirt that showed off several tattoos on his chest. He matched it with black jeans, a silver belt, and several chains hanging from his waist.
“You look pretty” Johnnie gave you a sheepish smile.
"Aww thank you!" Him complimenting you like this wasn't unusual for your friendship, but that didn't stop your heart from skipping every time.
Jake walked behind Johnnie slapping him on the back of the head as he did. "What the fuck Jake." Johnnie snapped, rubbing the back of his head.
"You know what." Jake responded without hesitation, giving Johnnie a telling look.
You wondered what Jake could possibly mean by that, maybe there was something Johnnie wasn't telling you. Although it wasn't unlike the two of them to share an inside joke that was impossible for you to understand.
"Let's get back to work." You laughed pointing at the trunk.
Johnnie nodded, pushed his bangs out his eyes, and brushed your shoulder lightly while reaching into the trunk.
You, Johnnie, Jake, and Tara spent the next hour or two setting up for the party, the sun slowly disappearing as you came closer to being complete.
Just as the night arrived, so did many of your guests. People began pouring in in small, or large, groups. Tara waited at the door, greeting everyone upon arrival like the amazing host she was.
Unfortunately, without Tara, you could be pretty awkward at parties. You and Johnnie had that in common, which is why you found yourself hanging out in the corner with him.
Obviously you didn't mind, you loved hanging out with him after all. The two of you spent the early hours of the night attached at the hip, ignoring the busy sections of the party, and sipping on your drinks while making small talk with your friends.
You were on the way to refill your cup with water, fearing that you had had one too many when a clearly tipsy Tara grabbed your arm.
"Y/N! I've been looking for you all over! I need to get a clip of you to add in my video before I forget."
You happily obliged, excited that you were finally got to spend some time with your best friend.
She led you into the living room, a camera following the two of you.
"Come on, dance with me!" Tara said excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air.
You giggled, and joined her moving to the beat of the music. Tara only needed a few shots of the two of you for her video but she spent much longer dancing with you.
You hadn't realized how much time had passed until, a few more drinks and many songs later, your feet began to ache.
"Hey Tara, keep on having fun, I'm gonna go find Johnnie and then relax for a bit." Tara gave you a hug, just in case she didn't see you again that night, and then ran off to join a few of her friends.
It took you a few minutes of aimlessly searching to find Johnnie. When you did find him, you saw he was talking to Sam and Colby while sitting on your couch that had been pushed to the back of the living room.
You plopped down next to Johnnie, carelessly resting your pounding head on his shoulder.
"Hey look at who's back." Johnnie announced, looking over at you.
You smiled, nuzzling your nose into his neck. It must be all the alcohol mixed with the excitement giving you this newfound confidence.
You sat there for a moment, letting Johnnie finish his conversation.
While you waited you thought over the same situation from earlier, and suddenly the drawbacks to confessing your feelings didn't seem so bad.
Whether Johnnie felt the same or not he would always love you regardless, whether that love be platonic or romantic.
Sam and Colby walked off, marking the end of the conversation. Johnnie turned to you, and you picked your head up from its position on his shoulder.
"I think it would be best if we both got out of here." Johnnie got up, reaching his hands out to help you up.
You took his hands and allowed him to lead the both of you away from the chaos.
You followed Johnnie down the hall until he entered your room and shut the door behind the two of you.
You took a deep breath, it was nice to be in a calm space and away from the loud party. Although you could still hear the base pumping it was easier to ignore.
"This is much better." Johnnie collapsed onto your bed.
"Hmm, my room is a real creative way to get some alone time with me." You smirked sarcastically.
Johnnie's mouth fell open, his face turning red.
"Okay dirty minded." He retorted, fidgeting with his hands.
"As if you aren't" You snapped back playfully, plopping onto your bed.
Johnnie shoved you playfully, causing you to fall back into your pillows.
The pair of you exploded into a fit of laughter. The concerning amount of mixed drinks you had both had made the ordeal much more hilarious than it really was.
After several moments a silence fell over the two of you. You were laid back on your bed, Johnnie's body only inches from yours.
You may have been slightly drunk, but you were sober enough to remember your feelings.
You turned to face Johnnie, finding yourself face to face with his icy blue eyes.
Johnnie smiled at you, that signature, warm smile of his that you loved. The sincere, loving smile that he seemed to only ever use with you.
Johnnie reached out and brushed your messy hair out of your face.
"There, now I can see all of your pretty face."
Your heart stopped, suddenly all your nerves had returned. You were scared, scared of losing this, and of losing him.
You weren't going to let this stop you though. You had spent too long avoiding this, and today you would finally confess.
"Hey Johnnie,"
"Mhm"
"I have something important to you about." Your voice was shaky, and you were convinced he noticed.
You could see his eyes fill with concern, maybe you should have used less ominous wording.
"I've been wanting to tell you this for a long time, and PROMISE ME you won't make fun of me."
"Are you serious? After how long we've known each other what could I possibly make fun of you for?"
You turned away shyly, he did have a point.
"Okay, well this is different."
"Well then I have to know, spill it." Johnnie said as he nudged your shoulder.
You blushed, avoiding eye contact in order to hide how flustered you were.
"I love you Johnnie, not like a best friend, like in love." You spat out, still refusing to make eye contact. God you sounded like a stupid high school kid.
"Hey..." Johnnie whispered.
He cupped your cheek and forced you to look him in the eye. Goosebumps formed on your skin where his skin met yours.
"I'm in love with you too, and I have been for a long time.
Your heart felt like it was going to stop, especially since he was now so close his nose was brushing against yours.
You closed your eyes before taking the leap and closing the gap between the two of you. His lips were softer than you expected, and you hoped he didn't notice how dry yours were.
Johnnie pulled you closer to him, and you re-situated yourself on top of him.
You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you abruptly.
"Shit!"
You looked at him concerned, wondering if you had done something wrong.
"I owe Jake money now!"
You began to laugh as your face landed in your hands.
"You two had a bet...about me?"
Johnnie giggled nervously, still underneath you.
"I'll explain later." He said, his eyes staring intently at your lips.
He pulled you down into another kiss, this one much more passionate than the last. You felt his hands run down your sides, grabbing longingly at your hips. You pushed your tongue into the roof of his mouth, causing him to grip your hair.
You let out a soft moan, which was followed by Johnnie flipping you over so that he could be on top.
Your lips not breaking apart once during the swift motion.
You continued to kiss him, your hands tugging at his shirt in an attempt to bring him even closer.
He began kissing your neck softly, as he reached behind you to fiddle with the zipper on your dress.
Just as things were heating up you heard the door swing open followed by an extremely loud voice.
"You better pay the fuck up bitch!!" Jake shouted cause the both of you to nearly jump out of your skin.
The two of you scrambled to sit up, adjusting your clothes as you did.
"What the fuck Jake!" You shouted, re-zipping your dress.
"Oh don't you start with me missy,"
"Tara come here I was right, look at them!"
You groaned, letting your head fall into Johnnie's chest.
"There, there." Johnnie patted your head sarcastically.
"Well, I hope you're okay with the whole world knowing." You say grumpily.
"Are you kidding, the whole world better know that I'm in love with you!"
You smiled, and kissed Johnnie on the cheek. If only you had done this sooner.
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cillmequick · 3 days
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Contrary to what the rest of my blog might seem, this is still a Cillian Murphy blog and not a Slow Horses one 😂 But if you’re interested I’m having a tiny Slow Horses/Jack Lowden hyperfixate and you can read some smutty fun with him HERE 😉 Anyway, here’s what most of you came here for - enjoy! 🤭 Remember, comments are love 🤍
Summary: With Cillian back in America again, Mrs M is back home in Dublin dealing with Eoin’s move alone and the various emotional challenges this presents.
Warnings: None really except the difficulties of shared parental arrangements and dealing with the ex when your husband is away.
Word count: 2742 PART 8 | SERIES
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ix. Tuesday 20 February
In her little attic office, Y/N was doing her best to focus on the plans for one of her author’s upcoming book tours. Yawning widely for the third time in as many minutes, she sighed, pushing her chair back and gathering her coffee cup. Shoving her phone in her pocket she trudged down to the kitchen in search of more caffeinated motivation.
Hangovers over the age of forty really were no joke. They had both felt like shit the day before - the high of his win giving way to regret over forgetting that they weren’t young enough to party and then stay up fucking until nearly 2am. It had been all she could do to get herself on her short Ryanair flight back to Dublin whilst he went to sleep it off on his first class flatbed trip to New York.
Closing her eyes, she leaned heavily against the kitchen counter as she waited for it to brew. Her phone vibrated against her bum and she groaned, only opening her eyes when she had fished it from her pocket.
Aoife’s name leapt off the screen, jolting her back to wakefulness.
Eoin says he’s spoken to you about moving in today. Can you come and pick up his stuff later on? Or do you need me to bring it round?
Hello to you too, Y/N snarked in her head and then immediately kicked herself for being tired and grumpy and unkind.
Hi - yes he has. No problem, I can come and get it. What time suits best?
The ticks turned blue but nothing happened. She sighed, stirring a sugar into her drink, wincing against the heat as she took a sip.
Whenever works for you.
She winced again, this time at the forced civility between them.
*****
At the usual time that afternoon, Eoin came clattering in through the front door, sending the dog into a pitter patter of excited barking.
“Hello?” he called, wandering through towards the kitchen, Scout bouncing along next to him.
“M’in here,” she mumbled back, pouring milk into his drink.
He stopped fussing Scout to look at her, chuckling.
“Late night was it on Sunday?”
She threw him a look and he grinned.
“A little tired and emotional are we, step-mother?”
She gave him the finger as she passed him his mug, settling on one of the stools by the island.
“One day you’ll be as decrepit as me and you’ll understand.”
“Still can’t believe you cried on national telly.”
She rolled her eyes, reaching down to pet the dog who had come to hover by her knees, heavy tail thumping against the cupboards. In solidarity she might hope, but it probably had more to do with the fact that she was the one with the biscuits. Breaking off a corner of one without chocolate, she slipped it to him, much to his delight.
“Well that’s your father, isn’t it? Always driving me to tears.”
He nodded sagely in sympathy before they both cracked into smiles.
“Your mum texted - she wants to know when I’m coming to get your stuff. What do you want to do?”
He shrugged in the manner of all teenage boys everywhere.
“We can go now, or wait til later?”
“Might as well get it done.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll tell her now.”
“Alright, well get that down you and we’ll go. I just need to check some emails quickly first.”
*****
Being in Aoife’s house was always a strange and slightly awkward experience for Y/N. Mercifully, Aoife was still at work, so she had managed to avoid any immediate weirdness and having to behave like a grown up in her exhausted state. But being in this place that used to belong to her husband was always a little surreal. She found it hard to picture him in these surroundings - everything so neat and orderly. So pale and pastel.
Their own house was awash with colour and light and chaos. Dog toys, and manuscripts in haphazard piles, books that refused to be contained by their shelves, fighting for space against his uncontrollable music collections. Cheerful bunches of bright, fresh flowers and always music filtering from some part of the building.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything down?” she called up from the hallway, fidgeting with her wedding rings.
He appeared at the top of the stairs, dark head barely visible above a pile of belongings in his arms.
“Nah, only one more bag after this lot,” he replied, voice muffled as he used his chin to stop a book from sliding away.
She sent him back in for the last of it as she tried packing the latest pile into the boot, grateful she’d been clever enough to bring the bigger of their cars - it would have been a mission with the Mini. Apparently, although the kids kept a lot of stuff at their house, there was a real difference between the place they stayed for weekends and the home they lived in most of the time. Bags of clothes, books, games and whatever else teenage boys require (something she didn’t want to delve into too deeply) were crammed into the boot.
“That’s it,” he announced with a slightly breathless huff, a last holdall thudding to the ground.
“It’ll have to go in the back - I think this is full.”
He was just shoving it into the back seat when Aoife’s car pulled in.
Fuck… cursed Y/N in her head, pasting on a neutral smile. She was too tired for a fight.
“Hiya,” she called as the slight woman got out of her car, running her fingers through her straight blonde hair.
“Hi.” She smiled tightly, turning her attention to her son. “Have you got everything?”
He shrugged, hands shoved deep in his pockets in a manner uncannily like his father. “Think so.”
“It’s not like you won’t be back very soon,” smiled Y/N and Aoife glanced at her, nodding a little uncertainly.
“Cillian says you’re going to LA at the weekend?”
Oh had he? How kind of him… she made a mental note to kick him for dropping her in it.
“It’s the SAG awards - I wasn’t going to but..” She waved her hand, not really wanting to explain their recent difficulties to his ex. “He wanted someone there.” She tried to laugh it off. “You know, the delicate egos of actors, they need the reassurance.”
Aoife frowned and she babbled to recover the situation. “I mean, I want to be there of course - it’s so lovely and exciting that he’s getting the recognition he deserves.”
Eoin shot her a look and she stuttered to a stop, warmth flooding to her cheeks.
“Yes. It is,” said Aoife quietly, expression unreadable, eyes distant. “He should be very proud - he’s earned it.”
Slightly taken aback by her softness, Y/N was lost for words and Eoin cleared his throat.
“We should get going - I need to go and meet Finn soon.���
Aoife nodded, blinking back into the present. “See you next weekend then.”
Y/N could see a brightness in her lashline as she moved to try and give him a hug, and quietly got into the car, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.
*****
She’d brought her laptop downstairs, trying to work whilst also making a start on dinner - something that meant she did neither particularly effectively - when the door opened again.
How strange to have people in the house and not just herself in the evening. It had been weeks since Cillian had been properly home during the week, and not just crashing in London.
“Hiya,” she called distractedly, hissing as she almost chopped her finger instead of an onion because she was reading an email.
“Hiya.”
She whirled around sucking her finger, surprised to find her youngest step-son in her kitchen.
“What are you doing here??”
“Well that’s nice. I can go if you want?” he grinned, coming to give her a hug. “Can I stay for tea?” His older brother appeared behind him, catching her look of concern over Finn’s shoulder.
“I asked mum and she said if it was ok with you then it’s fine.”
“Of course it’s ok with me, it’s lovely to see you.”
“Do you want me to take the dog for a walk?” asked Eoin, Scout immediately perking up at the W-A-L-K word.
“I think we agreed that was your job til Dad gets back, yes,” she grinned. “Are you going with him?” she asked Finn who was fidgeting slightly beside her.
“I think I’ll stay here - it’s raining.”
Eoin rolled his eyes and disappeared off to gather Scout’s lead.
“Put the coat on him - I don’t have the energy to bath him tonight!” Y/N called after him.
“You alright, love?” she asked more quietly as the front door banged shut, pushing her laptop closed and returning to chopping veg, with slightly more care for her appendages. Finn shrugged and shuffled over to get himself a glass of water. She didn’t fill the silence, she just kept quietly chopping, letting him come to her, if he wanted to.
“How come Eoin gets to come and live here but I don’t..?”
Ah, there it was. She’d wondered if this might be coming.
“Do you like… want him here more than me or something..?” His voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. A quiet fragment of his younger self.
She stopped abruptly, the knife dropping to the chopping board.
“Of course not - not in a million years.” She pulled him into a hug, having to make do with him resting his chin on her head because even at fourteen (almost fifteen) he was already much taller than her.
“Dad and I love you - both of you - so, so much.”
“So why does he get to live here and I don’t?”
She drew back so she could look at him, running a hand over his light brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes.
“Because what Eoin needs right now is a change so he can focus on his exams.”
Finn nodded slightly. “He and mum fight a lot.”
Y/N smoothed her hand over his shoulder. “That’s what happens sometimes - you should have seen me and my mum when I was your age. But it didn’t mean I didn’t love her. And so for right now, since he has the choice to have a slightly different living arrangement, this makes sense. But just because it makes sense for him, doesn’t mean it would be right for you too.”
“But if I wanted to, I could..?”
She eyed him seriously. “Do you want to live here..?”
He shrugged slightly but his eyes slipped away.
“Sweetheart, if you really wanted to, then Dad would need to have a chat with your mum. But this is your home, just as much as Mum’s house, ok? Always will be. It just might be a bit more complicated…”
“‘Cause of the legal stuff?”
She nodded, leaning back against the counter. “Doesn’t mean it couldn’t be done, it’s just not really a thing we had to look into because Eoin’s older. So the truth is that I don’t really know what would have to be done, if anything.” She shrugged. “It’s all unchartered territory for us.”
“And if I want to stay with mum that’s ok though?”
“Of course it is. It’s not like it’s a competition where whoever you live with you love more. Love doesn’t work like that - there’s enough to go round. All we care about is that both of you are happy.”
He nodded, absorbing this thoughtfully, contemplating his socks for a moment. Eventually he looked up and she braced herself for more.
“Can I play Xbox til dinner?”
She rolled her eyes and went back to the chopping board.
“Not if you haven’t done your homework yet.”
He huffed loudly and she turned. “Oi, if you were at Mum’s you’d be doing your homework and not playing games. Same rules apply here mister.”
“Fine,” he sighed, managing to put several more syllables into the four letter word than usually existed.
“You can do it down here and I’ll help if you like.”
He disappeared to the hallway, returning with his school bag and slumped down at the kitchen table.
“What’ve you got?”
“Maths,” he intoned dully, thumping books onto the table as though they had personally offended him.
Shit, Y/N thought, maths being her definite weak spot. Where the fuck was Cillian when she needed him?
*****
Leaving Eoin unpacking his stuff, she drove Finn back round to Aoife’s later that evening. As she parked up and he wrestled with his many bags from the boot, the front door opened, light and warmth spilling out into the chilly evening.
Seeing Aoife at the door, Y/N got out - not wanting to be considered rude - pulling her hood up against the light drizzle that had begun again. She followed Finn as he clattered towards the house, fixing a smile on her face.
“Hi mum, night Y/N,” he grinned, waving awkwardly under his belongings.
“Night kiddo,” she replied as Aoife shifted aside to let him in and he disappeared into the house without a further backwards glance.
“Sorry it’s probably a bit later than expected - maths homework took longer than anticipated,” she apologised hurriedly. “Anyway, it’s freezing so I’ll let you get in.”
She turned to go but Aoife’s quiet voice stopped her.
“Y/N..?” She waited, seeing the other woman’s hands twisting awkwardly in front of her. Finally she looked up properly and met Y/N’s eye. “Is he..?”
“He’s fine,” she smiled. “Unpacking as we speak.”
Aoife nodded, a sad smile just twitching her lips.
“Look, Aoife, I’m sorry. I know how hard this must be and I’m so sorry it happened like it did. He came to me and I didn’t know what else to say except that we’d discuss it. And for what it’s worth, Cill didn’t want to ask you about it over the phone. But he’s not here again for another week at least and it didn’t seem fair to leave Eoin hanging like that.. but I’m sorry… And I promise we’ll make sure he focuses and works hard…”
She petered out, fearing she may have overstepped.
“I know,” replied Aoife softly, arms folding around her middle. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
Y/N frowned, hugging herself too, more for warmth than comfort, wishing she’d brought her gloves.
“It really isn’t.”
“No it is. I know what I’m like sometimes.”
Y/N stepped a little closer and shook her head. “He’s a teenager, Eef. It’s just hormones and teenage angst. He loves the bones of you, I promise. This is just..” she cast her hand through the air, “something he thinks he needs right now. It’s not anyone’s fault.”
Aoife eyed her carefully and again, Y/N quailed slightly under her pale blue stare.
“You’re doing a lot of this on your own at the moment, aren’t you?”
Whatever she’d expected Aoife to say, that certainly wasn’t it but she nodded.
“It just is what it is right now,” she shrugged. “We just have to get to the far side of Oscars weekend and it’ll go back to normal.”
“I thought that too, or at least a version of it without the Oscars,” replied Aoife quietly. “Be careful.”
Y/N compressed her lips and bit back the irritation that threatened to unleash itself from her tongue. She knew she probably meant well.
Didn’t she?
“Nothing to worry about,” she forced a smile. “Just one of those things.” Aoife studied her and she blew out a breath, clouding the air in front of her. “Anyway, I better run before we both freeze to death out here.”
The other woman seemed to rouse herself, shaking her head slightly. “Yes, of course. Sorry. Thanks for feeding them and dropping him back. Night.”
Y/N waved a quick goodbye and hurried back to the car, wasting no time in getting the heaters running and pulling away from Aoife’s gate.
As the dark streets slipped by she gripped the steering wheel and fumed quietly. She would not let Aoife Carmichael get in her head. Hadn’t Cillian himself said he could see the signs and taken steps to make it up to her? Their marriage was nothing like his previous one.
Was it?
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Ooooh…. not sure she’s entirely succeeding in not letting Aoife get to her, is she? 🙈 I live for your feedback so please do come at me in all the usual ways my loves 🤍 xxx
Masterlists: CILLIAN | LOCKDOWN | MAIN
There’s oodles more content for this family in the Lockdown list above - enjoy!
Tag list: @runnning-outof-time , @zablife , @garrison-girl-08 , @look-at-the-soul , @buttercupsandboys , @notyour-valentine , @elliotshelbyjones , @theshelbyclan , @theshelbyslimited , @pintofsweets , @flyingjosephine-blog , @christinasyellowflowers , @midnightmagpiemama , @l1-l4-deactivated20231226 , @allie131313 , @star017 , @lespendy , @blondie-22 , @dragons-are-my-favorite , @emotionalcadaver , @brummiereader , @alessioayla , @lyarr24 , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @forgottenpeakywriter , @kittycatcait219 , @cybernuttragedy456 , @babaohhhriley , @watersquirtpewpewboomm , @stevie75 , @padfootdaredmetoo , @moral-terpitude , @shaddixlife , @peakyscillian , @majesticcmey (unable to tag) , @rangerelik , @guenievresworld , @margew76 , @camilleholland89 , @woofgocows , @cilliansangel (unable to tag) , @ayomurphys , @elenavampire21 , @elk96 , @scorpiussage , @cillixn , @esposadomd , @grapejuiceblues , @throughgoeshamilton , @polishcrazyone , @shjjpm , @duckybird101 , @maeleeme , @cillmeslowly , @kmc1989 , @nela-cutie , @magicalmushroom0 (unable to tag) , @86luvrs (unable to tag) , @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky (unable to tag) , @lunarubra
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mypoisonedvine · 12 hours
Text
𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | riley poole x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - having a girlfriend who can decode secret messages comes in handy when you're a treasure hunter; and having a clingy, needy treasure hunter boyfriend can be annoying when you're trying to decode something, but you find a way to compromise.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 4.4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - SMUT (18+ only, and honestly who under 18 is watching this 20 year old movie about the declaration of independence? regardless, minors go away), established relationship, free use kink, touch of dumbification kink, FLIP PHONES (oh the noughties nostalgia), a totally unnecessary plot because everyone deserves a dose of colonial american history with their filth, riley and reader being nerdlove goals
(honestly can't believe I actually wrote this but now that I did I'm like hold up... is this my new obsession??)
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When Ben answered the door obviously not ready, and obviously surprised by Riley’s presence, it didn’t take a genius to put together that he’d forgotten about tonight— which Riley had sort of seen coming, with how many times this one thing had been put off or rescheduled at the last minute.  One of the downsides of being a treasure hunter?  Your coworkers tend to be somewhat… unreliable.
“Riley— what are you doing here?” Ben wondered.
“Warm greeting as always…” Riley sighed before answering the question: “I'm here to pick you up.”
Ben gave Riley an even more confused look.
“For dinner,” Riley added flatly.  “At Talerico’s.  To meet my—”
“To meet your new girlfriend, oh god,” Ben realized, “was that tonight?”
“No, it's tomorrow, I'm just picking you up twenty-four hours in advance,” Riley replied snarkily.
“I'm sorry, Riley,” Ben sighed, “I really— I do wanna meet her, Abigail did too— but I completely forgot— can we move this to another night?”
“Ben, we've moved this so many times that she's not even a new girlfriend anymore,” Riley sighed.
“I know, I know, but we can't tonight— Abigail just went out,” Ben justified.
“Where'd the missus go?”
“The library, she's trying to help me with something.”
“A clue?  It's another clue, isn't it,” Riley realized, not trying very hard to hide his excitement.
“I was going to call you tomorrow,” Ben explained.  “Come in, I’ll show you.”
After walking into Ben’s house and upstairs to the study, Riley wrinkled his brow when Ben handed him the coded message.  “Well, that’s just a whole bunch of letters,” Riley noticed.
“Astute as always, Riley,” Ben frowned.  “We found them in a journal that belonged to James Madison.”
“Why would James Madison write down a bunch of random letters in his journal?”
“No— each letter was underlined in a different entry.  And, at the back, we found this,” Ben continued, showing Riley a scanned parchment.
“GABE FADECCE,” Riley read aloud, changing his mind a few times about the pronunciation.  “It’s a name, right?”
“It must be,” Ben shrugged, “but we’ve been searching online for any evidence of a Fadecce family or a Gabriel that worked for or with Madison, and we haven’t found anyone.  That’s what Elizabeth went to the library for.”
“It sounds Italian, could he be Italian?” Riley wondered as Ben set down the images with a sigh.
“I don’t know— possibly, but we’re at a dead end at this point,” Ben replied.  “I’m sure we’d have a lot more to work with if we could decipher those letters from the journal entries, but we were up all night trying to figure it out—”
“Not what I’d be up all night doing with my girlfriend, but okay,” Riley interjected.
“And I haven’t gotten anywhere with it,” Ben concluded.
“Wait— you can't solve it?” Riley challenged with a smug grin.  “The Ben Gates can't solve a clue?”
“It's not that I can't, it's just that a code like this requires a lot of time,” Ben explained.  “I'm a historian, not a cryptographer.”
“We need a codebreaker,” Riley nodded thoughtfully, “somebody who can decode something this complex, and knows enough about the Founding Fathers to have some context for the message...”  He tapped on his chin like he was really thinking about it, before proudly smiling and tilting his head in faux-realization.  “Hey, how about a former intelligence agent who specialized in decryption, with a master's in world history and beautiful eyes that you can get lost in for hours?”
Ben raised an eyebrow at Riley.  “Yes, that would be great— give or take the eyes thing— but where are you gonna find one of those?”
“At Talerico’s,” Riley announced, “waiting at a table for four.”
“Your girlfriend is a cryptographer?” Ben realized with wide eyes.
“I told you you'd like her,” Riley beamed.
~
Riley was engrossed in his game, furiously clicking the mouse and clacking at the keyboard before mumbling a curse of defeat and pulling the headset off; sighing, he turned around and looked over the back of the couch at you.
He'd only started playing the game because you weren't giving him attention, so it made sense that as soon as he died, he'd go back to bugging you.  “Hey,” he greeted plainly, smiling yet clearly fighting the urge to pout.
You were laying on your stomach on the bed, half-dressed, looking at the pages Ben had given you and scribbling notes on a pad.  “Hey,” you returned flatly after a pause, adjusting your reading glasses before taking a few more notes.
“You look cute doing that,” he hummed.
“Doing what?”
“Thinking.”
You frowned a little in concentration but didn't look away from your papers.  “I like to think I'm always thinking…”
“No wonder you're so cute all the time then,” he cooed, leaning in closer and resting his chin in his hands.
He waited for a moment for you to keep the conversation going, but sighed when you simply continued working on the cipher without paying him any mind.
Getting off the couch with a sigh, he hopped onto the bed and laid beside you, making the mattress bounce a few times.  He kept looking at you for a little while, eventually reaching out and rubbing your back for a moment, before sliding himself even closer to you and planting a kiss on your shoulder.
Even with ninety-five percent of your attention on the puzzle in front of you, you could still tell what sort of mood Riley was getting himself into.  “Well, there is one thing that makes you stop thinking…” he recalled in a purr, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and giving you a teasing trail of kisses there.
You sighed a little and shrugged him away.  “Riley, I need to focus.”
“Baaabe,” he pouted.  “I can't help it, you're just so— how am I supposed to resist you like this?”
“I'm literally just laying here,” you noticed.
“You know what you do to me in those bifocals, sweetheart.”
You snorted and finally looked back at him, admiring the puppy dog eyes he was giving you— they almost always worked on you, and he knew it.  Sighing in relent, you looked back at the pages in front of you.  “I need to get this done, I promised your friend I would finish it in twenty-four hours,” you explained, “but you can go ahead.”
“Go ahead?” he repeated, confused.
“You can just use me, while I work,” you offered flippantly, hardly noticing the way his face turned red.
“R-right… I can just, um… use you.  That's— okay, sure,” he coughed nervously.
“Just be quick,” you insisted.
“Yeah, that's a challenge,” he scoffed, shuffling on the bed to straddle your legs and run his hands over your back.  “I, uh, like when you wear my shirts,” he informed you, as if feeling his erection press against your ass wasn’t enough of a clue.
“Just get on with it, please?” you groaned.
“Yeah, yeah— sorry…” he mumbled, moving his hands down to your panties which he traced slowly.  “These are cute,” he noticed aloud anyways, and you sighed a bit to yourself as you realized how futile it was to try to keep him from talking.  You were just going to have to tune him out to get this done.
His fingers shakily hooked into the elastic and pulled your panties down, a low hum echoing in his chest as he looked at you.  Grabbing handfuls of your ass and kneading them gently, he mumbled something to himself that you weren’t really paying attention to— until he got your attention suddenly with a quick slap.  “Hey!” you yelped, jumping slightly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he breathed through a grin, “couldn’t help myself.  I-I won’t distract you anymore, okay?  Just, you know, keep working…”
You did just that, of course, re-ordering the papers in your hand to look at the scanned back page again.
He went on mumbling to himself as he shoved his sweatpants down to his thighs to free his cock: “juuuust keep working,” he breathed.
He spit into his hand quickly and smeared it on himself, before nudging in between your legs and pressing himself to your opening.
Admittedly, you did react slightly when he pushed inside you— a wince from the stretch of it, especially without much preparation— but you managed to keep quiet and focus on your work again.  “God, so tight,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your hips slightly as he slid deeper.  “You're too good to me, baby…”
He pushed as deep as he could go, which was honestly a bit further than you expected at this angle, and leaned over you slightly as he started to move.
“You feel so good,” he praised through a heavy breath, not taking very long to savor the moment before picking up speed.  You knew if you reacted too strongly to what he was doing, he'd notice instantly and start trying to pull you away from your work; so, you did your best to focus on the problem, even if you found yourself gripping the pages a bit tighter.
Even if your attention was straight ahead, you almost wished you could see him now— but then again, you had a pretty good idea of what you would see if you looked back: his mouth parted slightly with sighs of pleasure, a subtle pink flush across his face, his eyes going a little glassy as they drifted over you.  In fact, you could sometimes feel his gaze on you, especially at those times that his fingers traced your back and hips.
Realizing something suddenly about the cipher in front of you, you put your pen between your teeth and pulled the cap off, biting down on it slightly to hold it in place so you could keep writing on the paper your other hand held.  “Fuck, you're so hot,” Riley groaned, starting to thrust a bit more urgently.  Resisting the urge to smile to yourself too much, you kept taking your notes and didn't especially pay attention to him behind you, even when his occasional whimpers started to grow louder.
For the most part, you were able to keep your focus.  It wasn’t that Riley was especially easy to ignore— certainly not with him going just a bit faster with every thrust— but you were finally on a roll with this puzzle; maybe you would’ve already solved it if it weren’t for your boyfriend, even if he was a welcome distraction.
He panted with each movement, holding on tighter to your hips.  “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning down after a moment to rest his forehead on your shoulder.  Normally, you would have to stop yourself from reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, but you were too engrossed in your work; and it was a good thing, too, because if you’d done that he almost certainly would’ve grabbed the papers and tossed them away, impatiently demanding for you finish that later and let him finish now.
Instead, it seemed like the pace and intensity of both your decryption and his movements grew together: your writing was hurried while his thrusts were faster and harder suddenly, until you could hear skin hitting skin, his groans muffled slightly as they came out through his teeth.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, taking your pen away from the paper abruptly and looking at your work.
“Yeah, you like that?” he encouraged in a rough voice.
“Oh my god, I solved it,” you announced, hardly noticing how he'd misunderstood your exclamation.
That seemed to break him out of his focus for a moment, and he stopped moving as he leaned down over you, resting his chin on your shoulder to read the page you were holding.  “At the place of eighty-five pleas, remove the Crucifiction keys,” he read aloud from the paper— once he managed to navigate your disorganized notes.
“It's a polyalphabetic substitution cipher,” you explained excitedly.  “Once I realized the key word was his wife’s name it was relatively simple— aside from having to reverse engineer some Vignere tables—”
“But what does it mean?” he wondered.  “What even is a Crucifiction key?  Please don’t tell me Ben’s gonna rob some nuns.”
“This was Madison’s journal,” you recalled, “and he co-wrote the Federalist papers with Alexander Hamilton and John Jay— eighty-five pleas— but Hamilton wrote the majority in his home.  I think we need to go to his estate, and see if they still have any of the instruments he owned.”
“Instruments?” 
“The Crucifiction keys, that threw me off too,” you admitted, “but Hamilton was a pretty accomplished pianist— but he would’ve played the colonial precursor to the piano, the fortepiano, which was created by an Italian inventor named Cristofori.  Cristo as in Christ, obviously, and fori meaning ‘holes’.  The Crucifiction!  The keys are piano keys!”
“But who’s Gabe Fadecce?” he pressed.
“It’s not a name,” you answered, “it’s a song.  G, A, B, E, F…” you hummed each note as best you could recall.  “If we start at the first key in the bass and take out the first G, A, and so on up the scales, I’m guessing there will be another clue beneath them, or on the back or something.”
“You're amazing,” he smiled, kissing you on the cheek proudly.
“I'll call Ben,” you decided, reaching to pick up your phone from nearby on the bed and flip it open; you hadn't even opened your contacts yet before Riley wrapped his hand around yours and— gently— pulled it away and closed it.
“I'll call Ben,” he offered, “later.”
You turned to look at him, and he smiled at you, though there was something softer and darker about his gaze as it fell slowly to your lips.
“You and I have unfinished business first,” he continued softly before kissing you with more patience than you expected from him after all that…
When he pulled away, you reached up to take off your glasses, but he clicked his tongue as he stopped your hand from moving any further.
“No no no, leave those on,” he encouraged.  You grinned before he kissed you again, his weight sinking into your back as he slipped an arm around your shoulders.  You moaned softly into the kiss when he started moving again; it was a relaxed pace, but with him draped over you like this, he seemed to go so much deeper.
When he pulled away, you found yourself leaning towards him for more— but he just smirked at you and propped himself upright again, starting to move faster behind you.
“Look back at me,” he requested in a softer voice, and when you turned to look over your shoulder at him behind you, you found him biting his lip at the sight.  “Oh god,” he choked on a groan, meeting your gaze before shutting his eyes and tilting his head back.  “Fuck, is it weird that you ignoring me kinda turned me on?”
You laughed a little, and shook your head.  “No, that's fine… I can go back to it, if you want—”
“No, please— I still like you better like this,” he insisted.  “I like how responsive you are.”
He ran his hand up your back and you shivered, rocking your hips up slightly as he ran his fingers over your hair before taking a hold of your shoulder.
“Yeah,” he breathed, something beautifully dark to his voice, “like that.”
He began to fuck you hard— not fast, but intense and deep and just the right amount of impatient— and you didn't even try to hold back the loud whine of pleasure that jumped from your chest.  “Fuck,” you gasped, “oh my god, yes…”
“Uh huh?” he encouraged, watching with half-lidded eyes at the way you moved under him, your body naturally starting to rock back towards his.  “Tell me how that feels.”
“Good,” you panted.
“But not good enough to distract you from your work, huh?” he challenged.
“Well, to be fair, nothing feels better than cracking a code,” you giggled.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned, putting his hands on either side of you on the bed so he could lean down and kiss your neck, only to bite it a second later— not too hard, but a little harder than just playful.  You felt him smile when you yelped softly.  “You’re trying to piss me off, right?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged a little bit.
He sat back up and pulled out of you unexpectedly, but thankfully explained himself before you would’ve likely let out a pathetic whine that he would’ve held against you.  “Turn over,” he instructed, “and take that shirt off.”
You flipped onto your back with a smile; “I thought you liked how I look in your shirts,” you reminded him as he helped you pull it over your head and toss it aside.
“Yeah, but I like how you look without them even more,” he explained, running his hands along your sides before surprising you as he suddenly bent down to swirl his tongue around a hardening nipple.
“Fuck,” you gasped, grabbing onto his hair as he moved to the other, first with his eyes shut and then opening them to look up at you as your back arched.
“You’re so pretty,” he praised as his lips traveled to your neck; he yanked you closer by your hips, making you laugh slightly with surprise as you slid across the bed, though it turned into a moan when he thrust into you again in one go.
This time, he didn’t hold back at all: rough, needy, hungry.  You moaned louder than you planned to, grabbing onto his shoulders through his t-shirt.
“Sorry,” he panted out through a thin laugh, “but I can’t slow down now— not after you drove me crazy like that.  God, baby, you’re so fucking wet—”
You choked on the back of your own throat; you couldn’t help it, you just loved the way he said that.
“— this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Uh huh,” you mumbled, 
“You like when I use you, huh?” he taunted, and you bit your lip before nodding.  “That’s pretty kinky, you know.  Is that all you wanna be?  A fucktoy?”
“Oh god,” you groaned, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulder, though he didn’t seem to mind.
“Want me to just fuck you whenever I feel like it, whatever you’re doing?” he continued.
“Yes,” you admitted in a hiss, head dropping back onto the bed.
“You're really trying to spoil me,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your neck in between words.  “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart— I might end up fucking you five times a day.  At least.”
You moaned lowly, feeling your muscles seize up on him briefly, making him laugh in the most condescending-yet-sexy way.
“Oh, fuck— you want that!” he realized, and his voice dropped to a low growl again as he thrusted even faster, teeth teasing your pulse.  “You can never get enough, can you?”
Not that you ever really thought your response to that was going to be especially coherent… but the way you cried out totally gave yourself away; how had he made you so desperate so fast?!
“Oh, poor baby,” he offered pityingly, only to fuck you even faster until you whined pathetically.  “You don’t wanna think, huh?  Just wanna be my hole.”
“Y-yeah,” you gasped, “fuck…”
“You’re too fucking perfect, you know that?” he praised.  “The only thing sexier than fucking you while you use that gorgeous brain of yours, is fucking you until you can’t.”
Your moan was sort of trapped in the back of your throat as you tried to swallow it down; you wished you had the wherewithal to hold it back better, but you weren’t really used to him talking like this.  Normally he would just go on tangents of praise and begging (as needed), and even though it wasn’t your first glimpse of his more dominant side, this all felt a bit different.  Even the way he was looking at you seemed different— a sort of pride in his eyes, pride in his own ability to turn you into a wet and whimpering mess.
“So fucking good,” he cooed, “you’re so good, baby— my good, dumb little fucktoy.”
“G-god,” you choked, holding on tighter to the sheets under you, trying to hold yourself together.
“You’d better come fast, ‘cause I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he warned with a sigh— which would be a much more credible threat if he’d ever left you hanging.  But no, those times Riley’s stamina hadn’t taken you all the way, he was more than happy to put his mouth on you and let it do the rest of the work.
This time, though, all he needed was a thumb drawing rough circles on your clit to help you along.  You hadn’t even noticed how sensitive it had become, not until your back arched and a needy whine jumped from your chest.  “Oh fuck, Riley, I’m close,” you yelped.
“Yeah?” he whined— actually, he repeated it a few times as he watched you get closer to your peak, but it was all falling on deaf ears as your moans got louder and louder.
“Yes!” you cried out, shaking under him; even with his weight pressing you down into the bed, it began to feel like you were floating somehow.  It was one of those orgasms that left you a little numb, with little jolts of raw pleasure that were almost too much— but your only defense was holding tighter onto him, inside and out.
“O-oh god,” he choked weakly, the movement of his thumb slowing but his hips going faster than ever.  “Fuck, fuck!”
He stopped all at once, burying himself in one last stroke as deep as he could reach, moaning lowly against the crook of your neck as he went mostly limp atop you.
After catching your breath for a few moments, you hummed softly in contentment and he carefully lifted himself up just to fall back down beside you on the bed.  He looked at you with heavy eyes but a huge smile; “You wear me out, you know that?” he breathed, reaching up to move some hair stuck to your face.
“You distract me from my work, you know that?” you countered.
“Hey, you got it done,” he defended.  “We’ll let Ben know as soon as I… you know, remember how to exist.  And use cell phones.”
“And maybe after a shower…” you suggested.  As soon as you saw the sparkle in Riley’s eye you added: “Separately.  I’ll pass out before we can make it to dinner tonight if we just end up fucking again.”
“I mean, they’ve been putting off dinner for months— why can’t we blow them off for once?” he suggested with a smirk, moving closer to you on the bed.
“I thought I’d worn you out,” you remembered with a breathless laugh, and he wrapped an arm around you to pull you into him.
“You did,” he sighed against your neck, “I’m just… easily re-inspired.”
~
It was a good thing this place was mostly empty, since this was technically somewhat sensitive information, but you figured anyone who overheard wouldn’t know enough about the conversation to glean anything too significant.  You found yourself rubbing your hands together under the table anxious as you watched Ben across from you, holding your work, and waited for his response.
“This is incredible,” Ben smiled as he read your decryption, making both you and Riley smile back with pride.  “A polyalphabetic substitution cipher, I should’ve known.”
“Yeah, any idiot would’ve known that,” Riley joked flatly.
“Where’d you find this girl?” Ben asked him, and you glanced at your boyfriend to find a little flush on his cheeks.
“You know, the technical answer is that we met at a panel lecture proposing that certain ‘random’—” he accentuated the word with a sarcastic tone and air-quotes— “radio frequencies detected by military technology might be messages from extraterrestrials—”
Ben rolled his eyes even at the passing mention of one of Riley’s more absurd conspiracy theories.
“But,” Riley continued, “I have a theory that she was actually created in a lab, specifically for me, by a team of scientists with the inexplicable goal of making me happy.”
“Oh, come on,” you giggled nervously, shoving Riley on the shoulder but failing to stop him from giving you a kiss on your heated cheek.
“That line working on you really is a testament to the fact that you’re made for each other,” Ben offered, and you decided to ignore the backhanded element of the compliment because of your sense that there was something very genuine about it.
“Look who’s here,” Riley pointed towards the front door of the restaurant, over Ben’s shoulder, causing the latter to turn in his seat and look back.  “Abigail, over here!”
She waved when she saw you, quickly approaching the table and taking her seat as she apologized for being tardy; “This is Dr. Abigail Chase,” Ben introduced her with a proud smile.
“Oh, don’t be so formal,” she gently scolded him (maybe everything she said sounded that nice with her accent, though), but she beamed as she grabbed your extended hand to shake it.  “It’s so nice to meet you, finally— I’ve heard so much from Riley.  He’s been bragging about you so much these past few months, I feel like I already know you!”
“Apparently he met her attending some panel about secret alien messages from space,” Ben told her with a smile and a yeah, I know, it’s crazy look in his eyes.
“Attending?” Riley repeated with a scoff.  “We were both speakers!”
Abigail was a little better at hiding any judgmental instinct; “How perfect,” she announced sweetly.
“She’s a real whiz with decryption though— look at this,” Ben instructed, handing the (condensed) page of your notes over to Abigail, who took it and tilted her head as she read to herself.  
“Wow,” she sighed, “you made quick work of it: Hamilton’s fortepiano?  That must be in a museum somewhere.”
“It’s still in his home in New York,” you replied quickly, “we already looked into it.”
“Did you help her at all with the solve?” Ben asked Riley suddenly, who turned to you with a slightly mischievous look in his eyes.  
“Uh,” he stalled before clearing his throat nervously, but never looking away from you— “y-yeah, I helped… in my own way.”
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main-character0 · 2 days
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"I’m Better, huh?” [Pt. 1]
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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Seo Changbin x fem! reader (poc-coded)
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ After your boyfriend of 7 months cheats on you for the second time, you ask his best friend to pick you up from the club. Little does he know, Changbin was the one you wanted all along.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ warnings: No uses of (Y/N), cursing, implied drinking, cheating (since they never really broke up lol), angst, mention of murder (IT NEVER HAPPENS), please lmk if I missed anything!
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ a.n: I'm SO EXCITED to finally post this!?!?!?!? Part two will be up when the depression subsides and I start to write again lmao. also minors DNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ wc: 2.4k (2,429)
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ smut warnings: none for this part!!! only making out ig??? and being naked in a shower.... you'll see ;)
“Binnie, where are you?” You groan into the phone pressed against your ear. You rub your other arm with your free hand, finally feeling the frosty air biting into your exposed skin. You rub your thighs to at least create some friction for warmth. You can see a cloud of air escaping your mouth as you sigh into the speaker of your device. 
“I’m turning into the parking lot now. Do you see me?” Changbin’s voice rings through your ear, his words giving you the hint you need to look for his car now. You see the headlights before you see the sleek noir Camaro pull up to the front door of the club. You rush down the concrete stairs as fast as you can in your black one-inch heels. Changbin is already out of the car and opening the door for you. 
You ungracefully clamber into the car, pulling your tight skirt down to cover more of your thighs. You observe that Changbin’s gaze rakes over your thighs once, twice before he closes the door and walks around the car. He raises a hand to the bouncer, and the man dressed in a suit returns the gesture.  
Once Changbin enters the car, he shakes his head playfully, turning his head toward you. A smile plays along his lips as he fastens his seatbelt. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend’s girlfriend.” He tells you, exiting the parking lot. You watch his hands as he turned on his signal to make a right turn. “You should be saying, ‘you’re lucky we’re friends.’” You giggle, covering your mouth with a manicured hand.  
He glances over at you before smirking. “I- “  
Ding, ding, ding! 
A beeping noise startles the both of you, and he looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Put on your seatbelt, bunny.” He commands, nodding his head toward your seatbelt. You scramble to put it on, and as the seatbelt clicks in place, you look at the man escorting you home. Your eyes turn soft as you explore his side profile with your eyes. Yet, you can’t help it as your gaze starts to trail over his arms, his pecs, his hands. Your mind starts to wander, as you imagine his pinning you up against the wall, kissing you harshly with those plush lips of his, holding your hands above your head with one large hand.  
“You good?” Broke you away from your R-rated thoughts very quickly. You blink twice before nodding. “Just zoned out.” You explain. Changbin nods. You return your gaze to the road in front of you, watching as artificial lights blur together. Then, you see it. A singular drop turns into many, and they rush down the window, some merging together. In a way, it represents your relationship with your boyfriend.  
One tear turns into one more, with you convincing yourself it’ll be over soon. But it never ends. They keep coming, so many of them dropping that they seem to blend, losing track of how many have fallen by now. It’s like the sun will never shine again.  
You went through his phone today. He left it open on the couch as he went to get a glass of water. You guess he wasn’t expecting you to notice the constant buzzing of his phone, or perhaps he wasn’t expecting the notifications. Swiveling your head in the direction of the kitchen, you confirm he wasn’t looking, and stand up to grab his phone. You sit where he was once sitting, clicking on the most recent notification. You notice the green icon and conclude someone was texting him. Quite frequently. 
Your jaw clenches as you catch a glimpse of a red heart emoji. The messages load onto the screen and tears prick at your eyes. You grip the device tighter, and your white acrylics dig into the screen.  
My boo: When u comin over hun? ❤ Don't tell me ur still w/ that lil girl lmfaoo 
My boo: Still can’t believe ur staying with her ong 
My boo: She’s cute n all but I'm obv better  
Sent 2 minutes ago 
You were trembling like crazy, trying to stop yourself from murdering your boyfriend in the kitchen. This was the second time. The second time you caught your boyfriend cheating. The first time, your girlfriend sent you a bunch of sobbing emojis and a picture of your significant other holding hands with a coworker. They were walking down the busy streets of the bustling city you lived near.  
You confronted him about it, close to leaving, but his begging stopped you from leaving all those months ago. You wondered if it was the same girl from the picture. You heard an obnoxious yawn approaching the living room, so you hastily locked his phone and threw it to the side.  
“Imma be leaving here in a minute. I’ll be back soon.” He mumbled, stretching his arms over his head. You nodded silently, not a word falling from your lips. He took that as your approval and left to your shared room. You sat on the couch for a few more minutes, and stayed there, even after he kissed your cheek as a goodbye. Does he kiss her with those same lips? The same lips that used to say, ‘you’re my only’ to you?  
Then, it hit you. You’re not worth shit to him. He’ll never care about you like he used to, when you were the only one. Were you ever the only one? You stood up hastily and rushed to your room. 
You were gonna get drunk tonight. And you were gonna forget about that son of a bitch. 
Yet, here you are, reminiscing about what had happened this afternoon. “Bin, I need to tell you something.” You whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. You look down at your thighs, and your sorrow runs down your face and drops onto your leather skirt. You attempt to wipe away said tears, but they just won’t stop. Like the rain, you so long to feel on your face, masking your troubles.  
It seems as if Changbin had noticed your tears and promptly said, “We’re going to my place.”  
☂‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.  
You clutch a pillow to your chest as you explain what you had seen on your boyfriend’s phone. As you continue to speak, it seems as if he gets angrier the more he processes what you’re saying. “Fuck. I’ll kill him.” He grits out, clenching his fists. The veins in his arms become more prominent as he does that, and it kills you to not tell him how you’ve felt all this time. “Don’t. It’ll just make things worse.” You say wearily, burying your head into the white throw pillow. You hear the man hosting you sigh before you feel a drop on the couch next to you. You lift your head to look at him properly, but he’s already embracing you.  
You gasp softly, genuinely surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for Changbin to hug you like this, but due to the situation, it was unexpected. Your nose wrinkles up as you turn to hug him back, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. You sob into his shoulder, and he rubs soothing circles on your lower back. He easily maneuvers you onto his lap, his hands running up and down your sides.  
Once your sobbing dies down to little hiccups, you pull your head away from the junction of his neck and shoulder. Your mascara is running down your face in black streaks, and you spot black pigment on his neck as well. Changbin stares deeply into your eyes, his hands still rubbing your waist. He glances at your lips, silently asking for permission.  
You bite your lip as he moves his hands to your plush thighs, once again sliding his hands back and forth. After a moment and you don’t answer, he asks out loud. “Can I kiss you?”  
You answer by gently yet firmly pressing your lips against his. It feels as if coals are rolling down your throat as you kiss him, and those coals drop into your stomach and become warmer. It’s as if the metaphorical coals are being ignited by your passion for one another, and after being held back for so long, have since stored more and more heat. 
Changbin’s tongue prods against your lips, and you open your mouth slightly against his, so he can explore your mouth slowly but surely. You moan softly as you kiss sloppily, all tongue battling and teeth clacking. After a few moments, you reluctantly pull away from his soft lips. Your eyes are half-lidded, and your lips are swollen. The bold red lipstick you wore was smudged on your chin and the corners of your lips.  
“Binnie,” you pant. “Can I wash up? I kinda look...uh...” “Stunning?” He finishes your sentence for you. Even though you were the tipsy one, he seemed drunk of your affection. As if he’s been craving it for a while now. Like you. So why stop now? Well, you didn’t want to look like a total hobo in front of Changbin. “Stunning?” You repeat, giggling. “Well, thanks but I think I want to wash up, if that’s okay.” You say, gazing into his coffee-tinted eyes. He nods automatically, then shifts under you giving you the impression he wants you to get up. You move your weight off him and stand up, once again fixing your skirt.  
Changbin starts walking in the direction of his hallway, and you follow him dutifully. He leads you to a large bedroom, cozy enough for you to think it’s Changbin’s room and not a guest room. “You can use my bathroom. I’ll go grab some towels and a washcloth.” He smiles at you, before walking out of the room. You sit down on the bed, waiting for his return. You take in the decorations of his room leisurely, appreciating the 2Pac posters and large computer setup. Maybe for smaller music production jobs? He probably has a larger desk at his workplace.  
Changbin walks back into the bedroom holding a white, soft-looking towel and a similar-looking washcloth. You thank him as he hands you the cloth. “You can use my soap.” He tells you as you walk into the bathroom. You hold up a thumbs up without turning around and shut the door behind you. You decide against locking it because you trust him. More than you realized. 
Only when you step under the steady flow of warm water, ridding your face of the semi-natural makeup, do you start to confront your possible feelings for the man whose shower you were in. Did you like him? He was always a bit too touchy with you. At the time, you were madly in love with your boyfriend. You need to call things off with him, and soon. You’ll only suffer more if you stay with him. Changbin, on the other hand, is probably the best choice for you. He’s humble, loyal, funny, handsome, ripped as fuck, and super sweet. You can honestly see an amazing future with him.  
As you scrub the remnants of the night from your skin with Changbin’s alpine sage soap, you begin to think deeper into your life with him. A small child, maybe two, running around the kitchen as Changbin softly scolds them for causing so much ruckus as mom tries to cook dinner. You giggle and wave a hand dismissively, assuring him it’s okay. He walks up behind you, wrapping two beefy arms around your middle and kissing your neck. “I love you,” he would whisper.  
A heavy knock on the door startles you thoroughly. You squeeze the soap a bit too hard in your fright, and it practically jumps out of your hands. The bar hits the floor of the shower with a loud clatter, and you hear Changbin make an alarmed noise. “Bunny?!” He calls, just loud enough to carry through the wooden door. In your scurry to grab the soap without getting your hair wet, you forget to answer the distressed man. “I’m coming in!” He declares, shoving the door open aggressively. You only notice that he opened the door after you stood up, clutching the soap that got you into this mess in the first place. 
You glance at the door, which is now allowing a gust of cool air to flow into the humid bathroom. Blocking most of the doorframe in girth, not height, is the person you were just fantasizing about. He’s staring at you, way too hard. A vein is popping out of his neck and he’s trembling. But the weirdest thing is the pink flush on his cheeks. It does not occur to you to cover your intimates as your gaze trails lower and lower. 
He’s hard. 
You can see the outline of his dick in his gray sweatpants, and damn, does he look big. He clears his throat, and you look back into his dark brown hues. He is biting his lip, yet his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he’s fighting himself. There’s a lustful glint in his eye, and he looks just about ready to jump in that shower with you. Your mind clouds with the thought that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do. So, with all the confidence your body can muster, you lift your hand up and simply beckon him over with a finger.  
His body sprang into action, like he was waiting for you to give him any hint you want him on you. He shucks his clothes off in record time and slides open the glass door to step in the shower with you. You back up into the shower’s wall, the cool bite of the tile reminding you of just a few hours ago how the cool gust of winter air blanketed you. Only an endless display of a dark parking lot, and nothing on your mind. Comparing that moment to now would be like comparing ice and fire. Stark contrasts to each other. Now, your skin was burning, and thoughts were running laps around your brain. 
Changbin’s eyes lock on yours, the water pouring from the shower head flattening his curly hair. You reach your hand up to push his charcoal hair off his forehead so you can see his eyes better. His larger hand follows yours, and places itself on your own.  
“Do you want this?” he asks, running his thumb across your knuckles. He kisses your palm once, twice, waiting for you to answer. 
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