#watching this show is the only thing i’ve been doing. i wake up go to class sit in the library for upwards of five hours and then am
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what has kendall roy done that gob bluth hasnt already given his whole pussy to 😔🙏
#arrested development is to me what succession is to the mutuals#breaking my silence xx SORRY if i wanted to watch the downward spiral of a rich and eccentric family it would be the Bluths who are my#little special princesses :^)<3 they r so silly and sweet to Me gob u are the prettiest girl at the party i swear#arrested development#watching this show is the only thing i’ve been doing. i wake up go to class sit in the library for upwards of five hours and then am#rewarded with arrested development like a workforce dog catching a break by getting to thrash around with a stuffed toy for a bit. i put gob#between my teeth and snap his neck and ragdoll him with tenderness and love anyway i’m gone again !! see at the end of five weeks when this#hell term is over <33 you** :)
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baby fever | bakugou headcanons
part 2 part 3
tags: suggestive themes, not proof read, heat in the moment writing, fem reader, mentions of pregnancy, established marriage, they’re pro heroes, crappy writing.
word count: 642
☆ bakugou katsuki. when people hear that name, they say he’s rough, brusque and edgy, a double sided sword. on the other hand, you find him sweet and loving, quite adorable even if he denies it.
☆ you often think a lot about how he would treat your kids in the near future and despite his tough exterior, he’s grown fond of kids.
☆ social media thinks that he's going to be the worst dad to exist if you have kids, you think they’re delusional.
☆ but the moment you realize you know he’s the one for your non-existent kids is when you’re both out on patrol and you find a lost kid. “leave him to me” katsuki grumbles. “go get yer injury healed”
☆ you do as told, conversing with one of the medics, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the child laughing with your husband.
☆ butterflies dance about in your stomach, fluttering vigorously. “he’s going to be a great dad, [hero name].“ the medic says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, almost like you held the earth up for him.”
☆ you softly thank her with a smile, beaming with rays of sunshine as you approach your boyfriend. secretly watching him play with the young boy.
☆ “I see you’re both having a great time” you say. katsuki whips his head in surprise, coughing into his fist as if to hide his blush. “has dynamight been nice to you, sweetie?”
☆ the kid jumps up and down in glee, bobbing his head. “mister dynamight is the best! he even gave me a lollipop! but mommy can’t know or she might get upset”
☆ he sheers away in embarrassment. “thought it might cheer him up or somet’ing” you press your lips against his cheek, praising him for his work when the kid pretends to gag. you both chuckle.
☆ “aoi!” a woman calls out and the boy goes running to his mother, “oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” you smile at her and tell her it’s your job as heroes, waving back to aoi as they leave.
☆ “having a kid doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t mind waking up to our baby in your arms. It’s adorable and sexy.”
☆ he pauses. freezing in place. did he hear you right? our baby. him being a dad? sexy? fuck. you were definitely going to be the death of him.
☆ “[hero name]!” he calls out. you wink at him, skipping off to the agency. “baby! you can’t just say that and leave me like this!” he groans. having a hard on in the middle of work was going to be difficult to explain.
☆ the next morning, you saw the media, snorting at the headline. PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN SMILING WITH A KID. COULD WE POSSIBLY BE SEEING POTENTIAL FATHER MATERIAL?
☆ you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone on the side of the bed at the sudden touch of your boyfriend. “c’mere” he rasps. “why the fuck are you up s’early? it’s only 8am, go back t’sleep”
☆ “wanted to check the time is all. do you need something?” you ask.
☆ he shakes his head and lays you atop of him, grinding against your ass as a grin paints his lips, canines showing. “only thing I need is to fill you up to the brim and pump you full of my cum.”
☆ “katsuki! It’s only 8am!” you repeat his words. they fall deaf on his ears.
☆ next thing you know, you’re holding a test in your hand, double lines are present as a smug katsuki smirks at you. what a little shit.
#leewrites ☪︎#idk what I was thinking#brain go bye bye#bakugou headcanons#boku no hero imagines#bakugou brainrot#bakugou x fem!reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#anime fic#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#katsuki x reader#bakugou smut#katsuki headcanons
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Nevermore Dashboard Simulator
🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow
Can we all agree to stop making jokes about each other’s deaths? Making light of someone’s death even as a joke is really gross
🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow
No I was murdered so I can reclaim it
85,958 notes
⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow
Okay but can someone tell me how posts here are getting so many notes? There’s like around 100 people at the academy and I’m frequently seeing posts with well over 1,000 notes. Like, it would be one thing if these posts were years old but some of them are from 2 days ago. Did I just miss the memo and everyone here has at least 10+ accounts, like WHERE are you guys coming from?
👻 hourofsecrecy Follow
Can the spirits not show their appreciation for people’s commentery? Can the creatures of the night not find humour in wits and gists of others? What is the difference from the newly departed and the Unseen Ones?
⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow
Absolutely horrific answer, thank you for your time
26,496 notes
🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow
Tell me why it’s around eight in the morning and the first thing I see while heading to the dining hall is Lenore PINING Annabel Lee AGAINST A WALL
☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow
🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow
Care to clarify who the hell you were referring to in this post?
☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow
Yes
3,270 notes
🎈 floatinghoax Follow
After everything the afterlife could have been, you’re telling me that I have to go to SCHOOL and have CLASSES that start at 9AM? Truly tempted to walk straight into the wasteland, there’s only so much a second chance at life is worth
#not to mention with have fucking ROOMMATES #this academy is MASSIVE #you’re telling me there isn’t enough room for single rooms in this place?
7,984 notes
🥀 wilted-rose Follow
I’m curious, who do you guys think you could take in their spectre forms?
🥀 wilted-rose Follow
IN A FIGHT
69,285 notes
🎶 decomposingmusic Follow
You’re not about to manifest your spectre, you’re just dehydrated
🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow
out of the way gay boy i’m boutta separate myself from my remaining moral ties and embrace the abilites of my spiritual form
🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow
nures rom
173,032 notes
🌙 voyage-to-the-moon Follow
do you think the Deans wake up every day, take one look at us before telling Ms. Poppet ‘PUT THOSE BEASTS IN SITUATIONS!’
2,396 notes
🌃 eveningstar Follow
Does anyone know if Duke and Pluto (the two boys friends with Lenore) are an item or not? Cause any time I’ve seen them interact, Duke has consistently referred to Pluto as Mon Minou (my kitten in french) and I’m not sure if the two of them are together or if they’re just…Like That
🌃 eveningstar Follow
UPDATE: SO IT TURNS OUT PLUTO DIDN’T KNOW WHAT MON MINOU MEANT AND FOUND OUT THROUGH MY POST. HIM AND DUKE HAVE BEEN BICKERING ABOUT IT ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE DORM ROOMS
🌃 eveningstar Follow
Despite what you would think would occur from this development, none of this has answered by original question
#I was just curious if these two were gay or just European #by all accounts they might be both
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🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow
I think I’m about half with through the manor right now? Honestly this lesson is going much better than I expected!
🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow
RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS R&)26?83@/$
5,052 notes
☔️ dew-dropped-nights Follow
[about to be eaten by one of the monsters in the Teraphobia trial] okay but do you think I’m cute? Be honest
4,824 notes
🪐 eureka Follow
Do you think that Annabel Lee and Lenore have ever explored each others bodies
🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow
Can you fucking not do this? Not only are they real people, they’re our classmates and clearly can’t stand each other. Stuff like this is weird and gross
🔮 sorcery-sorcery-sorcery Follow
I bet they fucked nasty up at the widow’s watch
🥂 drinking-into-the-grave Follow
This is actually how Lenore won the Mystery Manor lesson
☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow
Sometimes that butch pussy gets you acting unwise
🏵️ pendulum-in-the-pit Follow
THAT
WHAT
🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow
What’s not clicking
29,496 notes
#nevermore#webtoon nevermore#nevermore webtoon#dashboard simulator#fake tumblr post#fake tumblr dash#white raven#lennabel#lenore x annabel lee#annabel lee x lenore
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hi, i’ve recently found your blog + wow, you’re writing is amazing! i have an idea for i would like to request, i hope that’s okay.
reader has just came home from book club w nesta, gwen and emerie at the house of wind. reader is mated to az - they’re been mated for about a few years. still reader has met nesta, reader almost always has her nose in a book - smutty book to be exact. reader is kinda embarrassed by this bc she wasn’t one to read smutty books before meeting nesta. az is starting to question why reader is always so invested in a book or why he has hardly seen reader for the last couple of weeks. az picks up the book reader is currently reading behind reader’s back & starts to get a little jealous maybe? az may confront reader about the book? i’m not to sure about the ending, but i do know az would do something like asking reader what their favorite scene & they could reenact it or something of that nature. i could totally see az teasing reader just a little bit as well.
i love for you to put your own spin on this. thank you 🩷🩷🩷
Book Boyfriend
Summary - Azriel has gotten a little tired of your reading habits.
Warnings - Az is a kind of a dick
A/n - I went the spicy mad Az route, and don't worry. Per Liz tradition, it's open for another part.
Azriel could have burned the damn book in your hands. You hadn't set it down in 3 days.
3 fucking days of you and Nesta curled into each other, drinking Rhysand's expensive wine, reading that stupid thick book.
He knew you loved to read. Books and book related gifts had been his go-to gifts for you since the mating bond snapped 100 years ago. But the obsession since Ness was made was unbearable.
He never had to fight for your attention until now. He felt a shoulder brush his. "Ah, they're in the "We don't want Cassian to know we're reading smut," pose."
Azriel froze, feeling down the bond and trying to get to your end. You had it locked down, but there was a soft blush on your and Nesta's cheeks. "How do you know its smut?"
Cassian sighed. "It's all they read, Azzy. Have you not noticed?"
His shadows darkened. You had hardly kissed or touched him in 3 days in favor of a smut novel? He could show you things, do things, most authors would only think of in their sick dreams.
He felt himself paling under Cassian's gaze. Was he not pleasing you anymore? Was he not performing to your expectations? You always seemed content, spent, and overjoyed when you two had sex.
"I need a fucking drink." Azriel stormed away. Slamming the door to your shared chambers shut. He took on look at the crystal whiskey decanter and decided to drink until you came to the room.
Azriel woke up to soft footsteps and the feeling of a blanket getting laid across him. He heard you sigh, falling into bed, then that faint creak of an unbroken in book spine opening.
Meaning you had a new book. A new smut novel to ignore him with. A new fake boyfriend to imagine between your thighs.
Azriel stood on shaking legs, and he went to bed. Watching as you snapped to book shut and set it on your nightstand title down. "Did I wake you?"
"Yup." He curled into the bed facing away from you. It was childish, but if you weren't happy, you could have just told him instead of replacing him.
When he woke up, raging headache and all, you were gone. But the book wasn't. He reached over and grabbed it, cracking the spine out of spite. 55 chapters in, and Azriel was bored. If he tried to fuck you on a table covered in paint, you'd glare at him about the mess. About getting paint 1000 places you shouldn't.
So why the hell were you reading a book about it?
It was late into the evening when you returned. Azriel had finished the book, marking specific things he wanted to confront you about. He didn't stand as the door opened, didn't greet you as you came in with a few bags. You were all smiles, dolled up in a pretty dress. Your hair was loosely curled, and makeup was done.
"Where the fuck have you been?" It came out as harsh as he expected it to. "I take a week off and you have hardly spent time with me."
He watched you jump, eyes going wide as you took a few steps back. "Nesta wanted to go into town. We lost track of time. I-"
"Lost track of time? Aren't you the female who taught Rhysand how to properly track the stars and sun?" He stalked toward you, book in hand. "Did you two go to find more vitriol like this?" He held it up, watching as your cheeks flushed and you went to reach for it.
"Azriel-"
He lifted it above his head. "You haven't touched me in weeks. You've kissed me maybe once. Hell, yesterday you were content to leave me on the damn couch. I can see why though, you're sitting here getting your needs met by some fictional fae lord instead of me. If you aren't happy anymore just tell me."
Shock hit your face slowly, mind whirling and emotions pouring into him from the bond. "Azriel, it's a book. Not another male."
That wasn't enough for him. "And how many times have you pleasured yourself to this book? Thinking about the main character between your thighs?"
You sighed. "To that one? Not a single time. I haven't gotten to read it and you already damaged the spine." The sadness in your voice made him pause, lowering the book until you could grab it.
You were always so gentle with your books, caring for them and placing them somewhere safe. Bookmarks never sat in them for too long out of fear of damage. He watched you stroke the spine, going to the bookshelf and placing it in the spot it would belong in to match your color based organization.
"Is this really about a book, or is something else going on?" You wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say his name. He could hear the soft tremble. "I'm sorry I made a friend. I'm sorry I've been spending time with Nesta instead of you. But she gets it. She gets how feeling like you don't belong in this family feels," a stab to his chest. "She gets how feeling out of place among you all feels," the stab turning into a gapping wound that had him leaning against the couch. "She gets what it's like to have a mate that is busy and expects you to be here waiting."
You had ripped his heart out. In 100 years, this had never come up. There had never been signs. "Y/n-"
He watched in silence as you held a hand up, moving to grab some clothes and a hair brush. "I'm going to sleep in a guest room tonight. This could have been turned into something beautiful, Az. We could have used these books to inspire fun in our bedroom," your hand ran along that damaged book. "Instead, you disrespected my belongings, accused me of an unthinkable act, and made this about your fragile ego."
You left the room, silence falling in the wake. Azriel stared at the book he had damaged. It was a first edition. A soft shade of blue with swirls of darkness. He walked to it, head hung in shame.
It was an escape. A way for you to cope with your feelings. No different than him training, and he had ruined it.
And now, he checked his calendar, he had 4 days to make it up to you before he, Cassian, and Nesta were gone for a month.
Leaving you alone all over again with nothing but an empty house and a book boyfriend.
General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
💕 As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist💕
#acotar#acotar x reader#send asks#send anons#azriel acotar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger
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Invisible string (pt. II)
♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader
♡ Synopsis: Minho is even more determined to make you see the good in love after falling for you, while you’re too preoccupied with thinking you’re not good enough for him.
♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut, friends to lovers, pining
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), hand job, fingering, like two seconds of nipple play, slut shaming, swearing
♡ Word count: 13.2k
♡ A/N: I got such a great response on the first part 🥲 thank you to everyone who left feedback. It means a lot more than you realize. I researched what to do on a trip to Japan so extensively just to write this part that I got sad I’ve never traveled there 🫠
← part I ♡ part III →
The night after you and Minho watched the light show, you stayed awake until four in the morning with your roommates as Eunha cried about her ex-boyfriend. You’ve never been the type to hope for someone’s misery, but that guy is deserving of every terrible thing that could happen to him.
After she calmed down, you fell asleep together on the couch. You only managed to check your phone in the morning, finding it thrown on your bed along with your bag. Minho’s string of messages put a smile on your face. You could use the time away from everything, even if it was only for a weekend.
You agreed to his strange invitation without thinking twice. You did, however, insist on paying for your hotel room. Chan was already being far too generous in offering you his place on a trip he had paid for.
Soon enough, two weeks flew by and the Friday of your trip finally arrived.
You’re already waiting outside of your house when Minho’s car arrives. He greets you with a hug, taking your backpack from your hands and placing it on the backseat. He opens the passenger door for you, waits until you’re settled in your seat, and only then closes the door and walks around the car. It’s something he does every time you go out together and it always makes you smile, even though it’s such a minor detail.
“You know, you’re my first friend who can drive,” you comment as he enters the car. “You shot up a lot of spots on my favorite friends’ list just by saving me from taking the bus.”
Minho chuckles. “And here I foolishly thought you liked me for my personality,” he feigns offense, shaking his head. “I actually only know how to drive because of my mom. I was moving to the countryside, and she got really worried I was gonna be stranded there, so she gave me a car when I graduated.”
You raise your brows. “You lived in the countryside?”
“Yep, I moved to Gurye right after graduating high school,” he explains simply, starting the car.
You nod slowly. Truthfully, you wanted to ask more questions but didn’t want to seem intrusive. Minho had never told you a lot about his life before starting university — the only things you know are that he has three cats back home in Gimpo and started college late for some reason. You figure he’s a private person who will hopefully open up to you once he’s ready. You couldn’t blame him either; you also desperately pretended as if your life before university didn’t exist.
As you two sit in the car, moving slowly through the awful Friday night traffic, you feel the familiar thoughts of panic overflow your mind. This trip felt almost romantic; just you and Minho in Japan for an entire weekend. You should be running away from shit like this, should be shutting him out before anything more than friendship blossoms between the two of you.
Your fingers pick on the fabric of your sheer tights, pulling and pinching apprehensively as your mind races. Because, at the end of the day, Minho is still a guy. He’s still capable of breaking your heart in the same ways it was broken before, and maybe even in new ways. He could still cheat on you, fall in love with someone else, treat you like nothing more than an object or a nuisance in his life, wake up one day and simply decide he’s had enough of you.
But he’s also Minho.
Your heart quickly countered every single reason your brain came up with on why you should run away from the situation.
How could Minho, who believes that love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself, cheat on you?
How could Minho, who told you that love makes it so that you can only see the one you love, fall in love with someone else?
How could Minho, who does stupid romance movie shit like opening car doors and pulling out chairs for you, insisting that he should walk on the street side when you’re together, reading classic novels, learning how to cook so his mom doesn’t have to, all while having three fucking cats, possibly break your heart?
Part of you hates how you have to do mental gymnastics to even consider allowing yourself to feel something more for a guy, but a bigger part knows the hurt that inevitably comes with love isn’t worth it.
You hear a soft chuckle beside you, and you lift your gaze to find Minho smiling at you as you stop at a red light.
“Is that a style thing?” He asks, gesturing toward your thighs with a nod. You furrow your brows. The light turns green, and his attention is back on the road, a grin spread across his lips. “Ripping holes in your tights. Is that a style thing?”
You look down toward your legs and grimace as you realize you had mindlessly torn two holes in your tights while overthinking. You mentally curse yourself.
“I’m cold,” you lie with an awkward giggle. “Was trying to warm myself up.”
Minho hums, stepping on the brakes as you encounter another traffic jam. He unbuckles his seat belt, turns his body toward the back seat, and retrieves his jacket before draping it over your thighs. He shoots you a small smile and turns his attention back toward the road.
The side of your brain that was against Minho and anything romantic with him just a few moments ago is completely swallowed up, dissipating as you ultimately admit to yourself that you don’t hate the prospect of this being a romantic trip as long as it’s with him.
God, you really don’t hate it one bit.
You two finally arrive at the airport just in time to board your flight with no issues. You’re not big on flying, but the flight is just a little over two hours, and Minho is such a calming presence next to you. He quietly read you some harlequin romance he picked up at the airport bookstore, and you two laughed a bit too loudly at the over-the-top plot and theatrical writing. The two of you were taken aback as the book turned out to be erotica, but hearing Minho dramatically read to you in a whisper about the hunky love interest and his manhood made you laugh until tears formed in your eyes.
After that, you two somehow end up talking about your lives back home. Minho shares how he always cooks Christmas dinner for his family, and his favorite part of the night is always the praises his grandmother throws his way. He explains that although he started cooking simply to help his mother, he found that he genuinely enjoyed it. He said he missed doing it every day, having stopped because his roommates had begun treating him as nothing more than a personal cook. You listen to his every word with a smile on your face that you can’t hide. It feels like he’s slowly opening up more to you about his life outside of university, and even something as small as this detail about his home life makes you feel closer to him.
The flight is so pleasant that you only realize you’ve landed once you see Minho unbuckling his seat belt.
You two take an Uber to the hotel, arriving in thirty minutes — you insist on paying since you’re basically here for free. You stare out the car window in awe the entire ride, Minho fondly laughing at your amazement.
As you arrive, you struggle with your backpack, pulling it out of the backseat with such force you would have fallen backward had it not been for Minho’s hands holding your shoulders. He asks if you’re okay with a chuckle, and you groan about how heavy your backpack is. Packing light wasn’t your forte.
As you two walk toward the hotel entrance, the weight on your shoulders disappears suddenly. You furrow your brows and look behind you. Minho had nonchalantly picked your backpack up by the handle and lifted it off your shoulders, carrying all the weight in his arms. You bite back a smile, murmuring a thank you. He just nods, like he hasn’t just done yet another thing you thought only happened in books written by women.
You feel that damn pinwheel return to your chest, making you feel a kind of thrill that you haven’t felt in a while. A good kind.
The hotel is relatively small, clearly on the cheap side, although it’s still quite charming. Minho mutters an apology as he catches you looking around the place.
“It was the only place I could afford being a broke college student,” He explains with a sheepish chuckle, and you shake your head.
“It’s lovely. I’m so happy to be here, I think I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
Minho is the one who checks you in, speaking in near-perfect Japanese to the front desk clerk. You focus on the wood chipping on the table and bite the inside of your cheek as you inwardly berate yourself for finding it so damn attractive. It was different from your classes or your small study sessions. You had never truly grasped just how good Minho was until right now. You didn’t understand a word he said. All you know is that he sounded too sexy for his own good while saying it.
Minho hands you the key and tells you the room number, and you finally make your way up the stairs. He walks beside you the whole way, and you wonder if his room is on the same floor as yours or if he’s just doing this so he can hold your backpack off your shoulders.
As you reach your room on the third floor, he stops you before you can insert the key into the door.
“Before you go inside…” He trails off, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh. “I — we could only afford to pay for one room, so this is actually our room.”
Your eyes widen for a second before you nod slowly. “Oh. It’s… okay,” you assure him, although there’s very little confidence in your voice. The prospect of sharing a bed with Minho makes you nervous, but not for the reasons you thought it would.
“There are two beds! Of course,” He assures you, and you mentally slap yourself on the forehead for feeling disappointed at this information.
It’s because you’ve exclusively been having sex with Hyunjin for so long, you reason with yourself. Your hormones must be making you stupid, making you want something more with someone else who isn’t him.
Yeah, that’s it.
Minho’s your friend, after all. It wouldn’t make sense for you to want anything more with him.
It’s just your stupid hormones.
You turn the key and open the door, stepping inside the tiny room with Minho. The two beds were so close together due to the room size that they might as well be just one. The only other piece of furniture is a bedside table, which basically connects the two beds.
It’s only once you slide your backpack straps off your shoulders that Minho lets go of the handle, and you toss it on the plain white sheets of the bed to your right by the bathroom door.
Feeling a chill run through your body, you let out a groan. The heater in your room is clearly not the best.
“Tights and a skirt weren’t the right choice for this weather. This shitty heater also isn’t helping,” you grumble.
Minho chuckles behind you, and you hear the sound of the bed springs as he all but throws himself onto the bed. “Poking holes in your tights probably didn’t help either,” he jokes, and you force out a chuckle.
It seems you chose today to act like a complete idiot.
You excuse yourself to the bathroom to change into your warm sleep clothes. The first thing you notice as you walk out into the room again is Minho’s bright orange sweater with a cat knitted on the front. He’s lying down, his back resting on the wall since the beds don’t have a headboard, and the color of his sweater might be a bit offensive to the eyes, but it’s quickly forgiven once you take in the kitten adorning the fabric.
You giggle, and he looks up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours.
“Your sweater is really cute,” you tell him as you sit down in your bed, crossing your legs in an attempt to warm yourself a bit more.
Minho grins. “I know,” He says smugly, “It reminds me of two of my cats because of the color.”
“You know,” you hummed, “You never showed me any pictures of your cats.”
You watch as his eyes light up at your words. He locks his phone before quickly turning it to face you, showing you his wallpaper. Your lips stretch into a fond smile as you analyze the picture: Minho holding an orange and white cat close to his face with a grin, a butterfly filter cutely adorning his nose.
“This is Soonie, he’s the first cat I got,” He explains, turning his head so he could look at the screen as well, “I was thirteen when I adopted him, and I remember begging my parents for almost three months until they agreed. In the end, they loved him so much they allowed me to adopt another one.”
Minho unlocks his phone and opens his gallery, flipping through his pictures like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You purse your lips. It feels like you’re intruding, even though he’s the one who hasn’t moved the screen an inch. You couldn’t think of one person you’d trust enough to so freely view every single picture you had on your phone like this. Minho really was something else.
Most of his gallery is composed of blurry food pictures mixed with pages and covers of books and computer screens filled with codes. Until he reaches a point — before he started university, you assume — where the only thing you can see is pictures of cats.
He stops scrolling and clicks a picture of the same orange cat, this time wearing glasses and a hat. You snort because, of course he dresses his cats in clothes.
“Soonie is adorable,” you beam. Minho furrows his brows and shakes his head, looking at you like he’s offended.
“This is Doongie,” he states like it’s obvious, “The second cat I adopted.”
Your brows furrow as well. “Minho, that’s the same cat.”
He clicks his tongue, closing the picture and scrolling before opening another one; two orange and white cats lay together on a cat tree. Your lips fall open.
“See? This one is Soonie, he has a white nose. And this one is Doongie, his nose is orange,” He explains, and you nod, knowing full well you’d be dead if your life depended on distinguishing these two cats. “Doongie is the middle child, so he’s more temperamental.”
You stifle a giggle at him talking about his cats like they’re his children, much like you do.
He closes the picture once again and scrolls down further. His fingers hover over a picture for a couple of seconds, like he’s hesitating before he ultimately opens it. The screen fills with the image of a younger Minho smiling while holding a gray cat. His wire-frame glasses were round, unlike his current ones, and his black hair used to be shorter. The picture has clearly been cropped, only half of the cat’s body still visible.
“This is Dori. He’s the last cat I got, and he’s actually the only one I call my son.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I adopted him with my ex-girlfriend. She wanted a dog, but I fell in love with Dori as soon as I laid eyes on him on the website, so she had no choice but to accept him.”
You watch as he smiles at the picture and the memory. You absentmindedly fiddle with your fingers on your lap, an all too familiar ugly feeling bubbling inside you. Jealousy. Not because Minho mentioned a girlfriend — you wish it was as simple as that. Jealousy consumed you when you were forced to face the reality that people have healthy relationships, where one partner sacrifices their own desires just to please their loved one. Where you make plans to adopt a kitten together just so you can call it your son. You know damn well you were never even close to having something even remotely similar to that.
You shake the feeling off, forcing out a smile. “He’s really cute,” you tell Minho, “And he’s my favorite, ‘cause at least I can tell him apart from the other two.”
Minho chuckles, scrunching his nose as he locks his phone and rests it on his thigh.
You two settle into bed after Minho walked you through the day he and Chan had planned for tomorrow. He had organized everything neatly in a travel planning app — from where you would be going down to an estimate of how much you would be spending. You always preferred roughly planning things out mentally whenever you traveled, mostly enjoying going with the flow.
Among all your coincidentally similar little incidents, you finally found something in which you two are complete opposites.
That should, in theory, annoy you, but you can’t help but find his meticulousness endearing. You can just picture him searching tirelessly online, crunching numbers and jotting everything down. The image is too adorable for you to be mad.
“Guess we finally found somewhere we’re different,” you mention with a smile as you tuck yourself into your sheets. Minho remains sitting on his bed, putting his glasses on their case.
He hums. “Rather than different, maybe we just complement each other in this case? You hate organizing, and I fucking love to do it, as you just saw,” he chuckles, “We’d be a great team. I plan everything, and all you have to do is show up.”
You nod with a smile, going over the places he chose in your head. You were excited for all but one: the very first one on the list, Inokashira Park.
“You know,” you start with a sigh, Minho’s eyes finding yours in the dimly lit room. “I never talk about this, but I weirdly feel like I can tell you anything. Nobody from our friend group knows this but…” you trail off, gripping the scratchy fabric of the comforter. “One of my ex-boyfriends cheated on me during a family trip to Japan when I was seventeen. I found out ‘cause the girl he hooked up with tagged him in pictures on Instagram. They were together in Inokashira Park.”
Minho hums, his eyes studying your face. After a beat of silence, he shrugs.
“We can skip that if you want to. I just—” He purses his lips, shifting on the mattress. “I just don’t think you should deprive yourself of the experience just because of a bad memory. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
You nod, taking in his words. He was right. You were positive none of your exes ever deprived themselves of going back to places where they cheated on you, so why should you? They were the ones in the wrong, the ones who hurt and betrayed you, so why should you be the one to bear the trauma?
Minho rests his back against the wall, playing with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “Is that why you don’t believe in love anymore? Don’t feel like you have to answer! I just… I wondered…” He faltered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I wondered what could have happened to make you feel that way.”
“Well, that was just one of five times when love proved to kind of hate my guts,” you chuckle. You didn’t understand why, but the words you held back for so long were bubbling at your throat, ready to spill out. And you were willing to let them. Even if only to a certain extent, you were ready to talk about this pathetic side of your life. You would rationalize it all later. Right now, you simply wanted to talk.
“I’ve had five boyfriends in my life, and they were all terrible in some way. I know, it’s a lot of relationships considering my age.” You scrunch up your face, cringing when you voice out the number.
Minho chuckles, and you’re ready for him to agree.
“It’s really not. There’s no right or wrong number of people to date during your teenage years or your twenties.” You open your eyes to find him leaning on his side, looking at you dismissively. “Some people date more, some date less, some people don’t even date at all. Either way, it’s fine.”
Your lips open and close, then open again. You had always expected people’s reactions to be the same as the ones you heard during high school. From your classmates to your ex-boyfriends, even your friends at the time, they all seemed to be in unanimous agreement that you were at fault for having dated so much in such a brief period. You never thought that maybe people with different opinions existed. And that, maybe, those people would be the ones who you care the most about.
Thinking about it now, after hearing Minho’s words, you were certain neither Eunha nor Soojung — or any of your friends, for that matter — would ever think badly about you or shame you simply because you’ve had five boyfriends. It seemed silly even to think that way now.
It was sad how much your teenage traumas undeniably affected your perception of reality.
Minho is the one to break the silence, his soft voice pulling you away from your thoughts.
“I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise you, the memories we make on this trip will be good enough that they override this lousy one,” he vows with a small nod. “And, more than ever before, I truly hope I can change your view of love.”
You smile at his words. “I surprisingly feel my thoughts about many things changing. Love is one of them.”
“I’m glad,” he hums, finally slipping under his covers. “Y’know, love isn’t only romantic. You say you’re closed off to love, that’s really a lie,” he states matter-of-factly, a smug grin spreading across his lips. You bite back a smile and raise your eyebrows at him. He continues, “The love you feel for your family and your friends, platonic love, that’s also love. I’ve been around you long enough to know just how much you love your friends.”
To say you loved your friends almost didn’t seem sufficient. After graduating high school, you left behind all the judgmental and toxic friends you had. You are immensely grateful to have found such good people at university. Eunha and Soojung were the housemates of your dreams, the three of you so different that it truthfully shouldn’t work, but it simply did. Hyunjin becoming your best friend was also a surprise; he was younger than you, and you had never been friends with a guy before — in part thanks to your jealous boyfriends — but he carved out a space for himself in your life and refused to leave. And you were so thankful for that.
And then there was Minho, who had come out of the blue into your life and just as suddenly became such an important person to you. From the way you two first met to your little similarities and how well you got along in such a short time, it was as if fate pulled you toward him.
You smile.
“I do love them,” you tell him, fiddling with your fingers under the white comforter. “And I love you, too, Minho. You’re my friend, after all. In a way, you’re already succeeding in changing my view of love just by being you.”
Minho’s eyes blink rapidly as he looks at you, his parted lips making him look like a confused child before they close. He hums, nodding as a small smile spreads on his lips, which quickly grows bigger and bigger until he’s basically giggling. He hides his face behind his hand, clearing his throat. You feel warmth spread across your chest at the sight. You’re sure if the lights were brighter, you’d be able to see his ears turning red.
You shake your head with a chuckle. The mood has suddenly become a bit too emotional, and you still find yourself running away from these things. However, you were proud of your progress tonight. Talking about love and your past — especially regarding your ex-boyfriends — was already a huge step for you.
You hope Minho knows he’s part of the reason you’re able to take this step in the first place.
“Okay, your turn.” You sit up on the bed, the white comforter pooling on your lap. “I’m curious too, y’know. You’re such a love enthusiast,” you tease him with a grin, earning you a chuckle from Minho, who throws his head back. “Tell me about your romantic experiences.”
He mirrors you and sits up on his bed. “Experience. I’ve only had one girlfriend,” he corrects you, “We met on the first day of high school and began dating the year after that, when we were sixteen. We were together until I was just about to turn twenty-one, so…” he trails off with a deep sigh. “Yeah, it was quite the long first relationship.”
“My five relationships combined didn’t last as long as that.” You click your tongue, and Minho lets out a breathy laugh. “Why did you two break up after being together for so long?” You blurt out before you can process the words inside your head. Annoyed with your own self, you scrunch up your face. You really chose today to be an idiot. “If that’s okay for me to ask! Sorry for being nosy, I’m just— I guess I’m curious.”
Minho smiles at you, a fond smile he always shoots your way whenever you are word-vomiting. Much like your other friends, he had quickly adapted to your habit of spilling out words before thinking about them.
“It’s a bit of a long story. Basically, she wanted a quiet and simple life in the countryside, so I did that for her,” he explains, shrugging dismissively. So that was the reason he had moved to Gurye after finishing school. “I began saving up money at eighteen with my job at the convenience store while she gave piano lessons to the kids in our neighborhood, and we moved on her twentieth birthday. I figured I could just do programming jobs from home, anyway, so I completely gave up on my plans to attend university…” Minho trails off, his voice all but a whisper at the end of the sentence. He shakes his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips as he continues, “I kind of wanna kick myself in the face for that now. It fucking sucks to have started university so late, but it was my own decision. I guess you say stupid shit when you’re nervous, and I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”
You had never met someone who would abandon so much of themselves for the person they loved. It made Minho even more admirable to you. However, even though it was his own decision, he clearly came to regret it. People often say love is all about compromises, and you couldn’t help but feel like Minho had been the only one to give up anything in this scenario.
“Were your parents okay with you two making such a drastic move?” You question, your curiosity bubbling inside your chest.
Minho scoffs. “Of course they weren’t. Especially my dad. But we were nearing our twenties, so there wasn’t much they could do to stop us.”
He drums his fingers on his thighs, and you wonder if this subject brought back sour memories — or maybe even good ones he just didn’t like remembering because they had become part of the past. You want to tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk about it any longer, but he’s continuing his story before you can speak.
“We adopted Dori and left a week later. We were pretty much broke. All we could afford was a small cottage that hadn’t been renovated in over a decade, but we were happy,” Minho’s voice is soft as he speaks, a smile forming on his lips as he stares ahead, almost as if he’s reliving those moments in his head. “We talked about growing old together and raising our kids in that cottage. And we — god, looking back, this was so stupid it’s fucking funny,” He chuckled, shaking his head and raising his gaze to meet yours. “We were actually trying to get pregnant. We barely had money to feed Dori and ourselves, yet it still crushed us every time that test read negative.”
You feel your expression change, a blend of astonishment and admiration washing over you. They must’ve truly been in love. You felt a slight pang of hurt and envy run through your body; it truly was so easy for other people when it came to love.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” you lament, although you’re not sure if you’re talking about the pregnancy or the entire relationship.
Minho shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “Don’t feel bad, it was a blessing in disguise. I can’t imagine how the fuck we would ever manage to raise a baby at that time.”
“It seems like you two had the perfect relationship.” You force out a smile, waging war against your bitter jealousy.
“It was perfect, until it wasn’t,” Minho shrugs dismissively, “We began to fight a lot after a while. Haneul would always get upset at me for not doing things the way she thought I should do them, down to replying in a way that didn’t fit with what she had hoped I would say. And I was the same, always getting frustrated when she disagreed with me, even if it was about something silly like what to have for dinner. We used to be able to talk it out and come to an agreement in the past — it wasn’t for nothing that we were together for so long — but being in that little cottage, just us two all the time, it became suffocating.”
“Is that why you two broke up?”
Minho nods. “We realized we were merely playing house. Neither of us was happy anymore,” he explains, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “It was like we each had a script inside our heads of what the other should say or how they should act. It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we mutually decided to end things before they got worse.”
Your fingers fiddle with a loose thread on the white cover. You had always been envious of this type of relationship, but you never thought to think about the fact that they can also come to an end. It always seemed to you that your relationships never worked because they weren’t perfect, like the relationships you saw in books or movies — like the one Minho had described with his ex-girlfriend.
You never once rationalized that even perfect things can ebb away. That nothing lasts forever, even if it seems utterly ideal.
“I know how terrible breakups are,” you tell him. “I can only imagine how much worse it must’ve been to you two after so many years together.”
Minho shakes his head with a smile. “I never really felt hurt by it. It was such a perfect breakup she even let me keep Dori without going through a custody battle,” he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you.
“How can it not have hurt you?” You let out an incredulous laugh. “You were in love, planning to start a family, and you tell me it didn’t hurt when it ended? That’s bullshit, Minho.”
He looks up at the ceiling, like he’s trying to find the words to explain to you. He hums. “Well, I loved Haneul. I loved her so very much, with every fiber of my being. She was my first love. My mom once said we were probably a couple in another life as well, and I fucking loved that,” He chuckles, “The idea that someone was destined for me and I was destined for them, that we were fated to find each other and be together across lifetimes.”
“Like soulmates?” You ask.
He nods. “Soulmates, yes. That’s what we were. And, after we broke up, I realized maybe people’s understanding of soulmates is wrong. At least to me,” He shrugs.
You let out a chuckle. He really turned a terrible situation into a chance to reevaluate his beliefs. It was the most Minho thing you had ever heard.
“How are people understanding it wrong, then?” You question him, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking at him. Minho mirrors your actions, a grin etched onto his lips.
“Well, for starters, you can have many soulmates in one lifetime.” You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to ask him more questions, but he quickly adds, “For example, Haneul was my soulmate and there’s no doubt about it in my mind. But it ended, because it was time for it to end. I learned everything I had to learn with her, and she did the same. We couldn’t grow together anymore, so there was no point in staying together.”
Biting your lip, you nod. “I never thought of it that way. You ask anyone and they’ll tell you that a soulmate is unique.”
“It may be so to some people, but I find that way of thinking a bit unfair,” he shrugs. “Haneul found someone new. Wouldn’t it be unfair for me to say her new relationship is inferior to ours simply because we were soulmates? We were soulmates, but our time to be together has passed and she’s with the soulmate she’s supposed to be right now.”
You hum, tapping your fingers against your cheek. “I guess it does make sense.”
He shrugs, feigning smugness. “I am quite the smart man.”
“What about you?” You question, smiling at him, “Have you ever found a new soulmate after that relationship?”
Minho clears his throat, his gaze shifting to look at where his sock-clad feet poked out from underneath the comforter. You could swear you see a tiny smile on his lips.
“I think I did,” He answers with a questioning lilt. “There were some signs, and a lot of things that aligned.” His gaze lifts once more to meet your eyes as he continues, “Makes me think maybe I’ve found her.”
As you take in his words, jealousy rears its ugly head, the feeling almost swallowing you whole. You gnaw on your bottom lip. The way Minho made you feel at times was questionable at best, but you chalk it all up to your jealous nature. You’d always gotten jealous when your friends found new friendships or when they started relationships.
However, that feeling was a bit different from the one currently making you want to bite your lip until it bled out of sheer and petty jealousy.
You let out a heavy sigh, pushing all those thoughts into a neat little box inside your head and locking them up.
“You’re really lucky,” you tell him, and Minho cocks an eyebrow. “That’s why you think love can only be good, because your only experience with it was long-lasting and good until the very end. I’d much rather have love fizzle out than have it end in a way that ended me as well. That’s how it’s always been with me, and I guess that’s why I came to hate love a little bit.”
Minho smiles at you, a genuine smile that reaches his brown eyes. “Well, sometimes love lasts forever,” he asserts, “So you shouldn’t think about how it’s going to end.”
You can feel the pinwheel inside your chest spinning, causing your heart to skip a beat and your cheeks to blush pink. Forcing out a chuckle, you lie on your bed and pull the covers up to your nose.
“You’re back to your hopeless romantic ways.”
“I never stopped,” He corrects you. He lies down as well, facing you, his hand reaching out to turn off the lamp that sat on the bedside table. “Even when I thought you had a boyfriend,” Minho continues, “I was still able to be a hopeless romantic.”
You feel your eyes widen at his words, thanking the darkness that covers you both as confusion and shock swim in your eyes. Did Minho subtly admit he liked you? Were you reading too much into things? Why did this not scare you? It should scare you, should make you terrified, as this is the very thing you’ve been running away from.
You were probably over-analyzing his words.
But why did you hope that wasn’t the case?
The two of you wake up early, hitting the streets of Tokyo immediately after getting dressed. Minho’s list definitely made things easier, with you two hopping from place to place before crossing them out one by one on his phone. Your favorite so far had been the cat café you two went to for breakfast, where you spent the entire hour watching Minho petting and playing with the kittens, the smile on your lips so fond that it probably made you look stupid.
But as you walk around Inokashira Park, that quickly drops to second place on your mental list. It was a beautiful place, especially in the late afternoon sun. As soon as you arrived, Minho took your hand in his without a word. It was unexpected, to say the least, but you were even more surprised to find yourself liking the gesture. You squeezed his hand, smiling at him, before lacing your fingers together.
Your heart was racing so fast you were certain that damn pinwheel brought along a friend today.
After walking around for a bit, Minho abruptly stopped, letting go of your hand and moving to stand behind you. You furrowed your brows as his hands came to cover your eyes. With his lips incredibly close to your ears, he whispered, “I have a surprise. It’s a place that wasn’t on the list. A museum I think you’ll like.”
You felt goosebumps rise all over your body at the sound of his low voice coupled with his breath tickling your skin. You silently thanked the cold weather — had you not been wearing long sleeves, Minho would have seen the effect he had on you, and you would’ve had no other choice but to throw yourself in front of a taxi on the way back to the hotel.
The two of you waddled awkwardly, Minho still standing behind you with his hands over your eyes. He giggled the whole way to your destination. You were too immersed in not focusing on how his body brushed up against yours with every step you took to even think about laughing.
His broad chest so warm against your back, his arms wrapped around you, his lips grazing your neck once as he bent down to whisper something about the museum being just around the corner, and his lower body continuously brushing and rubbing against your ass as you two walked. You had to fight the urge to push your body against his every time that happened, wondering if that would be enough to get him hard.
After Minho’s supposed confession last night, your mind had truly thrown every bit of worry and shame you felt about being attracted to him out the window.
It felt almost liberating, being able to say fuck it and simply feel.
So you were attracted to Minho; why should it be a big deal? You shouldn't deprive yourself of these silly experiences just because love scares you.
Maybe being scared was okay sometimes. Maybe it was worth it for the right people.
Just as your mind was running wild with thoughts of Minho’s body pressed up against yours, his voice whispered in your ear again. You had arrived, he announced, removing his hands from your eyes.
As your eyes adjusted to the light, you made out the words on a wooden sign before you. Minho had taken you to the Ghibli Museum. Before you could stop yourself, you were throwing your arms around his neck with a gasp.
You could just kiss him at that moment. That was how happy you were.
After walking around the museum with a smile engraved onto your lips, your cheeks hurt in the best way possible. Minho hurried you as you looked through the overly expensive gift shop, reminding you that the swan paddle boats would be closing soon. You whined but ultimately had no choice but to leave the shop as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the exit. Mourning the loss of a Soot Sprite plush perfect for your collection, you grumbled to Minho about how he had no heart as you two ran across the park.
You made it just in time, being the last ones in line on the pier. Minho insisted on paying for your tickets, and you agreed only after he explained it would be your compensation for the loss of your precious plushie.
And now you sit beside him on a swan paddle boat, failing miserably at containing your giggles as Minho adjusts his life jacket.
“You know,” He starts with a dramatic sigh, “You’re not gonna be laughing if we crash and you drown.”
You poke his arm, making him look at you just as a smile spreads across his lips. “I’m only laughing ‘cause you look real cute.”
You begin to paddle, and it is surprisingly easy — especially because Minho is the one guiding the boat with a steering wheel. The scenery is quite dull because of the cold season, with most trees already bare of leaves and the sky a blend of pale blue and white.
“I wish it was spring,” Minho speaks beside you as if he’s read your thoughts. “The cherry blossoms are fucking gorgeous.”
You look over at him, his eyes fixed ahead as he steers the boat around the pond. His glasses reflect the pale sky and obscure his eyes, but you’re sure he’s blinking rapidly like he usually does whenever he’s focused.
“Did you come here with your ex-girlfriend in spring?” You blurt out.
Minho’s lips stretch into a grin as he turns to face you.
“No,” he answers simply. “But I want to come with you.”
It’s only then you realize he had been doing most of the work paddling, as he easily controls the speed at which the boat glides across the water, slowing down until you two are stopped at the edge of the pond.
Your mind races, but not as hard as your heart does.
“With me?”
“With you.”
His eyes are fixed on yours, and his left hand grips the steering wheel tightly. You part your lips, but only silence is stuck in your throat. Drawing yourself out of the impromptu staring contest the two of you had gotten into, your eyes shift down to stare at your purse which lay across your lap.
You softly utter the only two words your mind can conjure up. “Why me?”
“Because I like you,” Minho’s voice is also quiet. You hear him shuffling beside you, turning his body so he fully faces you. “I know you’re scared, and you feel like you’re protecting yourself, but I’m—” He cuts himself off abruptly, and your eyes shoot up to find him biting his lip, his brows furrowed. He lets out a sigh. “I like you so much I think I might implode if I do nothing about it.”
Your breath hitched audibly. There is still a part of you that’s screaming out run away, this is terrifying, you’re on your way to another heart-wrenching breakup — but that part has become so minuscule, so insignificant now, it feels like nothing but muffled background noise inside your head. Because a much bigger part of you is begging for you to just say, “Then do something about it.”
And he does.
Minho’s hand leaves the wheel and gingerly touches your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin before he closes the distance between you. It isn’t the first time you kiss Minho, but it is certainly the first time your entire being is fully enveloped in only him; from the way his slightly chapped lips still felt so soft against your own to how his strong hand finds your waist and pulls you closer to him.
And his taste. Minho coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and licks into it, your senses being taken over by the taste of the watermelon candy he’d been eating all day until you’re positively drunk on him. Your heart racing and your hands shaking like a teenager having their first kiss.
You go to grab his shirt, desperate to pull him even closer to you, but your hands collide with the damn life jacket he’s wearing. You whine into the kiss, annoyed, and Minho only chuckles against your lips. He bites your lower lip, pulling softly before releasing it and pressing another kiss to your pout.
“I take back what I said, the life jacket isn’t cute,” you mumble against his lips. His smile grows, and his lips crash against yours again, his hands tangling in your hair.
He groans into the kiss, barely pulling away before whispering, “Don’t wanna stop kissing you.”
You hum. “Well, you can kiss me anytime now.”
Minho’s lips spread into a grin, and he closes the small distance between you for one last kiss before he pulls away, your noses brushing. His eyes are dark yet soft, as if longing and affection had melted together.
“I want to be with you,” He says, “But I want you to think about it before you say anything because I know how scared you are of love. And if by the end of our trip I haven’t given you enough reasons to give me a chance, I’ll let you go and move on with my life. If you want to stay friends, I’ll happily do that. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll also respect that.”
Your heart swells with his words because Minho is the complete antithesis of everything your ex-boyfriends taught you that men were.
And, for the first time in so long, you feel the kind of nervousness that’s nothing but good. The kind that leaves you with trembling hands, a racing heart, and a dizzy head. The kind that only love can provide.
Despite his request, you’re eager to answer him right then and there, but just as you’re about to speak, the sky roars and dark clouds gather above. You jump in your seat at the sound, and Minho’s hands instinctively wrap around your shoulders and squeeze. You smile, simply nodding your head and giving his lips a small kiss.
Minho struggles a bit, but he’s eventually able to turn the paddle boat around, and you two begin to paddle back toward the pier. The light rain quickly becomes heavy raindrops drumming on the roof of the boat, and you dread the walk back to the hotel as neither of you thought to bring an umbrella.
“Y'know,” Minho starts. “There’s a myth here in Japan that says if you ride this boat with a girlfriend, then you’ll break up soon. I kinda always believed that.”
You let out a chuckle. “Really?”
He hums, nodding his head. “So I’m choosing to also believe that if you ride it with someone you like, they will become your girlfriend soon.”
Minho turns to look at you with a smile as you stop at the pier, removing his life jacket and exiting the boat without another word. You bite the inside of your cheek in a failed attempt at holding back a smile. Minho helps you out of the boat, his hand taking yours and pulling you toward him gently.
You two run back to the hotel, Minho holding you close to him with his hand around your waist. The streets are mostly empty as people squeeze under bus stops and shop awnings to shelter from the rain, and it almost feels like you and Minho are the only people in Tokyo that night.
You two giggle the whole way to the hotel. Even when you are struck with the realization that the power has shut off on the entire street upon arriving, you simply turn to each other and laugh even more.
You clumsily manage to take a brief shower in the darkness, changing into your sleep clothes as quickly as you can. You realize with a grimace that if your room was cold before, with the shitty hotel heater on, it’s basically turned into an icebox now.
Wrapping yourself up in your comforter, you shiver with a groan just as Minho walks out of the bathroom.
“Bet you miss that shitty heater now, huh?” He jokes, and you faintly make out his silhouette in the dim light of the moon coming from the window.
You let out another groan. “I'm gonna freeze to death tonight. I've made peace with that. Thaw me with a hairdryer in the morning, please.”
Minho chuckles, sitting on his bed as he checks his phone. You make out his features in the moonlight coming from the window, and he’s wearing another sweater, black with more cats printed on it.
Such a cozy, warm-looking sweater. You curse yourself inwardly for only packing t-shirts to sleep.
As he locks his phone, an idea hits you, and your words are faster than your thoughts — as they always seem to be whenever you’re around Minho.
“Can I lay with you for a bit?” You ask, “Just for a bit, until I get warm? My bed is right under this damn window, and I don’t have any sweaters I can sleep in, and I know I joked about making peace with freezing but—”
Minho cuts you off by calling out your name with a chuckle. “It's okay. You don’t need to make up a thousand excuses. I'm cold, too,” He says simply, scooting to the side to make room for you in his bed. “Come here.”
You smile, ripping the covers from your body quickly like a band-aid and all but jumping from your mattress to his. Minho instructs you to lie on the left side of the bed, facing the wall. You furrow your brows.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “It’s like the sidewalk thing. So I can protect you if a serial killer comes into our room.”
“Oh, so a serial killer’s gonna come into our room?” You ask, a teasing lilt in your voice as you scoot on the bed and slip under the comforter.
“Well, I—” Minho stammers, pausing with a sigh. He removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table before he continues, “I don’t know, okay? I just… wanna take care of you in every way possible. Even in this weird scenario that my mind made up.”
His words slip out of his lips quickly, much like yours do when you’re nervous and can’t make yourself stop talking. You wonder if your habit is rubbing off on him, and you can’t help but smile.
As Minho settles into bed, you feel your body stiffen up. The two of you lay on your backs next to each other in the cramped bed, and you feel like you can’t move. Hyunjin was the first guy you ever slept next to, and even then, it was after you two had already had sex, so there was no room for feeling awkward. With Minho, everything feels so new. If kissing him had made your hands shake, laying next to him makes your whole body tremble.
You lay like that for a while, watching as the thunder lights up the ceiling until Minho turns to lie on his side.
“Wouldn’t we get warmer if we cuddled?” He trails off in a whisper, clearing his throat after his words leave his mouth.
You open your mouth to answer but know you’ll only end up word-vomiting again with how nervous you feel, so you simply nod, turning so you’re facing Minho as well.
His arms quickly find your waist, pulling you closer to him until your noses are touching, and you feel his breath on your lips as he lets out a sigh. Before you can make sense of what’s happening, Minho presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your lips, making your mind go hazy. You two stare at each other for a beat, your lips agape and eyes wandering through each other’s features until he breaks the silence.
“You make me nervous,” he whispers, taking your hand and guiding it towards his chest. You feel his heart beating quickly through the thick fabric of his sweater. “In the best way possible.”
You smile, whispering back, “You make me nervous, too.”
Clutching at the fabric of his sweater, you pull him closer to you, slotting your lips together once more. Minho’s hands hesitate, his left hand barely touching your back before he changes his mind and grazes your shoulder with his touch, only to settle for cupping your cheek. You smile into the kiss, taking his hand and placing it firmly on your waist. He grips the fabric of your shirt just as you did and brings your body flush against his.
The kiss is hurried, as if you two will be forced apart tomorrow and this is your only chance to feel each other. Minho licks the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasp. His firm grip on your waist, his body pressed against yours so tightly that you can feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, and how with every stroke of his tongue, he devours you almost greedily — it’s downright impossible to keep the whine that forms in your throat from slipping out, Minho’s mouth swallowing the muffled sound.
And then he’s pulling away, and you’re left chasing his lips. He lets out a breathy chuckle at that.
“Let’s go to sleep, hm?” He suggests, his voice breathless. You can’t help but wonder if you practically moaning while simply kissing him had made him uncomfortable, and you inwardly berate yourself, mortification washing over you.
So you only nod, turning to face the wall so you can properly cuddle this time. Minho wraps an arm around your waist, and you wait for him to pull you closer, but he never does. You furrow your brows. Was it that bad? You can’t be faulted for reacting like you did, especially with how he kissed you. So you take it into your own hands to shift closer to his body. Your lips part as you feel his hard member pressing against your lower back.
Oh.
So that’s what’s going on.
You bite back a grin, feeling Minho tense up behind you.
“And here I thought you were like a romantic lead in a PG-13 anime,” you joke, smiling as he chuckles, clearly more at ease.
He uses the hand that had been resting against your stomach to pull you even closer to him, pressing his body against yours. “I am romantic,” He whispers, lips close to your ear. You only then realize he’s hovering over you. “But I’m still human.”
You fight back the urge to shudder at how his voice drops an octave, all low and soft, and, god, how his breath grazes your neck.
You search your brain for something to say but come up empty. Being nervous has rendered you speechless for the first time in your life.
“Let’s sleep now, okay?” Minho presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “I’ll lie far—”
“I can help you,” you blurt out, turning to face him. Going to sleep is the last thing you want right now. “If you want.”
His eyes wander across your face as he pulls on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to rush things.”
“There are ways to do this that aren’t… rushing.”
Minho hums, but his eyes are now fixed on your lips. You move to lie on your back, and he slowly climbs on top of you.
“As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t care what we do,” he whispers. You smile, pushing his black hair away from his face with your fingers.
“It’s more than okay with me,” You answer simply, using your hand on his hair to guide him down into yet another kiss.
You can feel him still hesitating, so you grab a fistful of that silly sweater of his and pull him closer to you until your bodies are flush against each other.
“Can I touch you?” You ask, breaking the kiss. Minho nods hastily.
“Yes, please,” he groans, “I’m gonna die if you don’t.”
With a breathy chuckle, you move your hand between your two bodies, cupping him through his sweatpants; he’s even harder now, and you subconsciously bite your lip. He closes his eyes, his left hand resting on your waist before squeezing lightly as he hides his face in the crook of your neck with a shaky sigh. It might simply be because it’s your first time being intimate together, but Minho’s timidness is genuinely endearing to you.
Your palm grinds against him gingerly, and his body trembles under your touch. His hand travels from your waist toward your lower stomach, and you let out a quiet gasp as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. He lifts his head off your neck, his face so close to yours you can feel his unsteady breathing on your lips.
“Can I touch you, too?” He whispers, and you nod a bit too eagerly.
“If you don’t, I think I’ll die too.”
Minho grins, his head dipping lower until his lips are pressed against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. You’d be lying if you said finding Minho so hard after only kissing you hadn’t turned you on — kissing him alone also made you more aroused than you were willing to admit. But you were more than ready to go to sleep without doing anything about it after offering to help him, so the fact that he wants to do the same for you makes your head spin. This was not on your bingo card of things that could happen during this trip.
He pulls your shirt up slightly, only enough for him to slip his hand inside your sweatpants. He hesitates twice before cupping you through your underwear. His dark eyes meet yours, whispering against your lips, “You’re fucking soaking through your panties, and you weren’t gonna tell me?”
You gasp at his words, clenching around nothing. Wasn’t he shy just two minutes ago? Your mouth opens to answer him, but your brain is far too cloudy to form any coherent sentence, so you settle on a nod. He hums, pressing a kiss to your agape lips.
Once you feel his thumb tentatively brush against your clit through the thin fabric, you find the courage to slip your hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers immediately brushing against his member. Minho shudders at the touch, his eyes still fixed on yours.
Your brows shoot up at the fact that he had foregone wearing boxers, and he chuckles lightly at your reaction.
“I never wear underwear to bed, so don’t think I was trying to seduce you,” he jokes.
“Too late,” you hum, “I was seduced the moment I saw your bright orange cat sweater.”
Minho grins, sucking your lower lip as he pushes your panties to the side painfully slowly, his middle finger gliding from your entrance toward your clit and spreading your arousal. With a sigh, you bring one leg to wrap around his waist, and he adjusts himself so he’s properly hovering over you. You take this opportunity to slide his sweatpants down his hips, his hard cock finally free from its confines. He groans low in his throat, his tongue suddenly licking into your open mouth as his right hand intertwines with your left, your fingers locking together. He presses your clasped hands onto the mattress beside your head.
Your hand now glides through his length, the palm of your hand beginning to rub at the head of his cock and Minho sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss, his eyes remaining closed. Pressing your thumb to the slit, you gather as much precum as you can and spread it through his member. You quickly find that it’s not enough, wanting it wetter and messier and—
Minho whines as you stop touching him, eyes shooting open. Bringing your hand to your lips, you lick a stripe on your palm and let a glob of spit fall on it before finding his cock again, wet both with your saliva and his precum as you begin to stroke him gingerly. With a quiet moan, Minho’s hips buck up at the touch and he kisses your lips again. You giggle into the kiss, inwardly thanking Hyunjin for teaching you that guys love sloppy shit like this and, in turn, making you realize you do too.
You avert your eyes from his intense gaze as his finger moves to find your entrance, pushing in slowly before moving at a steady pace.
He squeezes your hand. “Look at me,” his voice is all but a whisper, low and hurried. You turn to lock your eyes on his once more, immediately biting your lips to stop a moan from slipping out of your lips as his thumb begins to rub your clit in circular motions, and he slips another finger inside of your aching cunt. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep yourself from vocally begging him not to stop.
You focus on your own hand as you stroke his cock, your steady pace gradually quickening. Minho’s pace mirrors yours, and soon the small room fills with the noise of his finger swiftly pumping in and out of you mixed with the sound of your hand stroking him.
“What do you like?” Minho asks suddenly, his breath hitching as you tighten your fist around his cock. Your mind is far too clouded by desire and pleasure to fully comprehend, so you hum, your brows furrowing. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours with a quiet moan and curling his fingers inside you, causing your eyes to shut tightly and a whimper to escape your closed lips. “Look at me, baby,” he repeats himself, his voice firm and his shy demeanor having completely shifted. You slowly open your eyes. “What do you like? I — fuck,” He curses as your hand twists on the head of his cock. “Wanna make you feel good, tell me.”
You’re definitely not used to being vocal about what you want or like during sex; your ex-boyfriends always too selfish, and Hyunjin too confident for you to even have had the opportunity to do so. Coupled with just how good you felt, you know you won’t possibly be able to speak a word without moaning the way you’re trying so hard to avoid. You settle for guiding his hand, which was tangled in yours, under your shirt. Minho immediately massages your breast, his thumb caressing your nipple as his eyes find yours once more.
You feel as if his gaze is setting you ablaze, his eyes boring into you. It felt as if all his desire was accumulated in his dark eyes, clearly visible in how he watches you like he’s drinking in every last drop of you through his stare. You’ve never had someone look at you like this before; it makes you feel so wanted, so desired, as if the only thing Minho could ever need in this moment is you. That alone makes your body tremble, your left hand holding onto his shoulder for purchase as you feel you might float away at any second.
If you were told a couple of hours ago that something as simple as having Minho’s fingers inside you would have you so euphoric, you most definitely would have laughed.
Minho groans into your open mouth, his breathing heavy and his brows drawn together tightly. You force your lips shut once more as his thumb rubs your bundle of nerves more hastily. Your hand leaves his shoulder to tangle in his black hair, futilely attempting to tug him even closer to you before you kiss his agape lips that spill out groans and sighs like a mantra.
It’s almost all-consuming. His fingers inside of you, the warmth of his hand on your breast, his cock pulsating beneath your touch, his hot breaths that fill your lungs as he sighs into your kiss, and his eyes — his damn eyes that look at you as if he wants to eat you whole.
You finally allow yourself to moan as you feel your orgasm building up, whimpering his name against his lips as your strokes on his cock turn messy and desperate among the copious amounts of precum. Minho growls, pulling your hand from his hair — his grip on your wrist so firm it stings a little — before he pins you down to the mattress, fingers messily intertwining with yours again.
This time, you’re unable to restrain your whimper at his actions; Minho had always been gentle and sweet, something as simple as him pinning you down to the bed has you clenching around his fingers. This duality of his you just discovered is something that stirs up curiosity inside of you.
“I’m gonna come,” He announces with a sigh, his hand squeezing yours. You can only nod as you melt around his fingers, your whole body trembling. Minho soon follows, his cum spilling into your hand and your shirt, a low guttural sound leaving his throat.
His eyes only leave yours as he leans down to connect your lips again, giving you small kisses before a stifled laugh escapes him. You furrow your brows, and Minho grins.
“Sorry for getting your shirt dirty,” He mumbles against your lips, the two of you unwilling to move for the time being.
You shake your head with a chuckle. Although you cringe slightly as you feel the fabric of your shirt stick to your stomach.
“It’s okay.”
Minho shifts on top of you, and you only then realize his fingers remain inside of you. Your body jolts faintly at the stimulation, his name falling from your lips in the form of a whine. He grins at you again, all lopsided and handsome, before bringing his hand to his lips. You watch with agape lips as his tongue flicks out to lap at his fingers before sucking on them with a hum, his eyes locked onto yours once more.
Once again with this newfound duality of his. He’s pure romance and gentlemanly behavior, but seemingly so alluring and shameless in bed. The way he looks at you alone makes you clench around nothing as if you didn’t come mere minutes ago. And it’s such a simple act — you can’t count on one hand the number of times you watched as Hyunjin licked his fingers clean after being inside of you — but the contrast of his calm and endearing everyday personality and him suddenly pinning you to the bed or licking your cum off his fingers while looking into your eyes makes this entirely different.
You would’ve never expected this from Minho, and it makes your brain stir up with thoughts of what he would be like while eating you out or while fucking you. Would he pin you to the bed again or pull your hair, or maybe—
The sound of him clearing his throat interrupts you from your thoughts, and you only now realize you had been staring at the ceiling while fantasizing about Minho fucking you. Great.
Once your eyes meet, he’s quick to avert his gaze. “I will, uh, pay to wash your shirt when we — when we get back,” Minho stumbles over his words, his eyes now fixed on your shoulder. “If you want. But, like, I got it dirty, so…” He trails off, and you purse your lips to muffle the giggle that bubbled up your throat as it seems all the confidence he had only minutes ago had dissipated into dust and left his body.
He was back to his usual self. You can’t help but smile as you realize you adore any version of Minho.
He pushes himself off of you, muttering that he’ll be back before disappearing into the small bathroom. You remove your soiled shirt, wiping your hand on it, only to blanche at the sight of the logo printed on the fabric. It’s one of Hyunjin’s shirts that you had stolen ages ago. You mumble a string of apologies to him as you pull the covers off your body. After discarding it on your bed, you change into the first t-shirt you fish out of your backpack, worried Minho might come into the room and see your naked chest — as ludicrous as that was, seeing as he was knuckles deep inside of you less than twenty minutes ago.
Minho returns to the bedroom just as you’re closing the zipper on your bag. He silently takes your hand in his and wipes it with a towel, his head lowered as his eyes focus on his actions. You let out a breathy chuckle.
“There’s really nothing there anymore,” you inform him. “I wiped most of your cum on my shirt.” You nod toward the crumpled-up fabric thrown across the bed. Minho’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. He lets out a small noise, nodding his head slowly before ultimately pressing his lips together. Under the faint moonlight that lights up the room, you almost miss how his cheeks dust a shade of pink. You smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. Minho hums, smiling back at you and dropping the towel on top of your shirt.
Soon, you find yourself back in bed with him, Minho pulling you into his chest, his hands now offering you pleasure by gingerly massaging your scalp. You are almost asleep — listening to his heartbeat through his sweater, smiling at the soft snores that escape his parted lips — when it dawned on you.
You notice just how different being with Minho had been. How kissing him alone made your hands shake, how even without being fully intimate, the way you felt with him tonight was incomparable.
Minho’s words from months ago about how sex with someone you love eclipses the feeling of sex with any other person linger in your memory. You hum, a smile on your lips as your eyes flutter closed again.
Before they shoot open.
Because holy shit.
If it felt that way with Minho, it can only mean you’ve fallen for him.
Awakening to the sound of the heater’s soft hum, you feel Minho’s arm tightly around your waist, keeping your body pressed against his. His gentle breathing brushes against the nape of your neck, and you cautiously turn your head, careful not to wake him, only to be greeted by his tender eyes already gazing at you with a soft smile. Cuddling with Minho is another thing that feels different. You feel safe, adored from how he holds you to the way his eyes look at you.
As he realizes you’re also awake, he suddenly turns to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling as his ears slowly turn a light shade of red. You frown, chuckling a bit at his actions, before settling yourself across his chest.
“The power came back a while after you fell asleep,” he explains.
You giggle as you assume maybe he’s shy because of what happened last night. But your smile fades as your mind begins to overthink, your subconscious screaming that maybe you should feel shy, embarrassed. Weren’t you too easy? Letting him touch you like that after just a few kisses. Does Minho think you came into bed with him for that reason?
You think back to the last boyfriend you had, who berated you for how ‘whorish’ it had been when you asked to have sex with him instead of waiting for him to initiate it. And how your first boyfriend would tell you — every chance he got — that you acted like a slut, touching him as if you knew it would make him have sex with you. How, at the end of your relationship, he told you maybe you acted that way because you knew that sex was all you were good for. How another ex had laughed as he told you that even though you went through so many guys, you still managed to be a terrible fuck, and that was the reason he had to cheat on you.
There were also the murmurs around your school whenever you started a new relationship. Another one? She’s boy hopping so much she’s gonna get through our entire class in less than a year. Some girls just can’t stand to be alone, it’s kind of sad.
At some point, you had detangled yourself from Minho, now lying on your side and looking out the window. You never understood why so many people thought that way. You had five boyfriends from fifteen to eighteen, and in each of these relationships, you were either cheated on or broken up with in a less-than-pleasant way. But you did have the awful habit of jumping into relationships with little thought, often because you felt incomplete without a romantic partner — as romantic as high school relationships can be, anyway. Being single and content for almost four years now, you were proud to have worked on that.
But you still can’t shake off the feeling that maybe you were a bit too… forward. You were single, sure, but you were quick to jump at the opportunity to have Hyunjin as a fuck buddy. Perhaps people were right about that.
“Is everything okay?” Minho’s voice pulls you away from your racing thoughts. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, nodding.
“Yeah, I just zoned out.”
Sitting upright on the bed, you stretch with a sigh. Minho takes your hand before you can realize it, placing it on his chest and gently playing with your fingers, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. You gnaw on your bottom lip, pulling at the skin until it stings.
“I’m sorry if I was too forward last night,” you blurt out. Minho’s gaze shifts to focus on you, confusion swimming in his brown eyes and his hands halting around yours. Oh god, why did you say that?
“Forward?” The question trails off his lips, his eyebrows coming together in a frown.
With a sigh, you grimace at your own words. “Yeah, forward, like I was throwing myself at you. I’m sorry if it came off that way. I swear I’m not…”
“You’re not…?”
“You know what I mean, Minho,” you mumble, but his eyes remain swarmed with confusion.
“I really don’t.”
You roll your eyes in exasperation, annoyed not at him but at yourself for having brought this up in the first place.
“You know, Minho,” you groan, “Forward, like, slutty. Like I asked to come to your bed just so you would fuck me.”
His expression softens, his eyes widening. He sits up as well, his hand still clutching yours.
“Why the fuck would I think that?” He asks matter-of-factly. “What happened last night was completely natural. We made out, we got horny, we took care of it together. You didn’t even ask me to touch you, I did it because I was dying to do it. You weren’t forward — you weren’t slutty.”
You feel the heavy veil of worry lift off your shoulders at his words. It was definitely going to take a while for you to work on that aspect of your trauma. This had never been an issue with Hyunjin since you were pursuing nothing more than a sexual relationship with him — things were different with Minho.
Minho was the complete opposite.
After countless moments of your heart racing and your hands trembling because of him, you finally confess to yourself that your affection for Minho extends well beyond platonic feelings.
With a small smile, you slowly nod your head. “Sorry for bringing this up, I just… didn’t want you to think badly of me.”
Minho smiles, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “That wouldn’t have made me think badly of you. I’m not some Victorian man who thinks women should be burned at the stake for showing their ankles,” he chuckles, and you bite back a laugh. “Even if you had been slutty, so what? I’d like that just as much.”
You playfully hit his shin under the comforter as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.
Minho was unquestionably different.
“We gotta get to the airport soon,” he says with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head, carrying your hand along the way. “I had to book the earliest flight I could to save up some money.”
With a frown, you retrieve your phone from under your pillow and check for the time: seven-thirty a.m. You feel a pang of guilt as you recall how you are essentially on this trip for free.
“Why didn’t Chan help with the tickets?”
Minho bites the inside of his cheek before his lips stretch into a barely-there grin. “Chan was never coming to this trip,” he blurts out. You feel your lips fall agape.
“What?”
“I… planned this trip by myself. Only for you and me,” he explains. “I wanted to get far away from everything that distracted us so I could concentrate on showing you the good side of love like I’d been trying to do with all those fruitless attempts at taking you on dates.”
You take in his words and find yourself smiling at the gesture — the white lie Minho told pales in comparison to everything else he has done for you, both during this trip and since you met him. Truthfully, you didn’t even realize he had been taking you on dates. You mentally slap yourself in the head for that, believing he simply wanted to spend time with you as a friend.
“I’ll pay you back for my part of the trip as soon as—”
Minho’s voice interrupts you with a drawn-out ‘no.’ He smiles as you stare at him, puzzled.
“This entire trip must’ve been so expensive, Minho.”
But he’s unrelenting, shaking his head with a squeeze of your hand.
“I told you,” he says simply. “I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”
♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1 @malunar28replies @jazziwritesthings @finchyyy @bloom-ings @linocz @minhochaos @lastgreatamericandynasty1
#stray kids#stray kids fic#skz smut#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz fic#lee know fluff#lee know#lee know smut#lee know scenarios#stray kids x you#skz#fanfic#lee know x reader#lee know x you#lee know imagines#lee minho#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids scenarios#stray kids smut
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꒰ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐂 | 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. ꒱
ೀ amira speaks! : okay so,, I know this isn’t what I’m used to writing on this blog — but lately I’ve been hyperfixating on this man so badly, that I felt the need of writing something for him myself! Anyways, enjoy this lovelies !! 💗 I felt kind of shy writing for Enzo, but I think I will write more things for this man jakdkdjdjkl
˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : just dating headcanons for our beloved man. 💕
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : mostly fluff.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : enzo vogrincic x (fem)!reader
˗ˏˋ REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN ´ˎ˗
: ̗̀➛ i can definitely picture him as the type of boyfriend that would be extremely loving & devoted to you. A bit clingy as well... A bit too clingy, but you can’t really complain — it simply makes you love him even more.
: ̗̀➛ Expect to be showered in praises & kisses from day to night. I think Enzo would always find the perfect opportunity to show you just how stromg his undying adoration for you is no matter the place, or timing.
: ̗̀➛ Lazy morning kisses that go from your neck, to your jawline, to your cheek while he cuddles you tightly from behind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear to gently wake you up? Yeah, he definitely does that.
: ̗̀➛ “linda”, “princesa”, “mi vida”, “mi amor”, “bonita”, “muñeca”, “chiquita” — those are just some nicknames he has for you, and you only. I have the feeling he’d have many other nicknames for you, even some silly ones, but these would be the ones he uses the most with you.
: ̗̀➛Whenever your back is facing him, Enzo would take the opportunity to show up from behind and give you love. Maybe he randomly takes you into his arms and spins you around in the spot just to make yoy giggle, or maybe his arms would wrap themselves tightly around your waist, as he nuzzles your neck with the tip of his nose in a rather loving — and teasing — manner.
: ̗̀➛ Don’t be surprised if, while you’re doing the most basic mindless thing, like scrolling on your phone or watching TV, you find him staring at you like a lovesick fool, smiling to himself. I can totally see him doing this, and I think it would be very sweet.
: ̗̀➛ Lap sitting, lap sitting, lap sitting. It really doesn’t matter if both of you are reading a book, talking together, or are on your phones — you need to be sitting on his lap. He just absolutely adores how it feels to have you tightly pressed against his body, or how you become flustered everytime he sits you on top of him (or pats his lap invitingly, instead of straight up sitting you there).
: ̗̀➛ You know when cats rub their heads against one another to show affection? Yeah,, I have the feeling he does this when he’s needy to show you his love. Change my mind.
: ̗̀➛Not a single part of your body would go to waste when it comes to kisses. Tip of your nose? Kissed. Your cheeks? Obviously, kissed. Forehead? Most definitely, yes. Hands & knuckles? All the time. Jaw? Yes, checked. Neck? His favourite spot to kiss you, double checked.
: ̗̀➛ Sweet man also loves having you cuddled by his side. Perhaps you’re talking about nothing in particular, or perhaps you’re reading a book together... Or he’s reading outloud to you, in a very gentle manner — it doesn’t matter. The feeling of having you cuddling him while one of his hands play tenderly with your hair is the best feeling that there is to be.
: ̗̀➛ If you prefer to keep privacy, Enzo would be very understanding with that, of course. But otherwise, if you don’t mind, expect to go to the Red Carpet, to every single premier and event by his side, and have him proudly show you off to everyone.
: ̗̀➛ Have I mentioned cuddles, tons & tons of them all the time? I don’t think so. 👀
: ̗̀➛ You’re so pampered by him, that you would have an endless showers of gifts for you. Be it jewellery he knows you’d like, a bouquet of flowers with a love poem written in a small card attatched to them, makeup, plushies — you name it. Whatever you like, and whatever helps to show his love, he will gift it right away to you.
: ̗̀➛ He’s very attentive to your every mood change. If he notices something is wrong with you, Enzo will ask you if you’re alright, if you need anything, or if something happened to upset you. It kind of makes you melt seeing him so soft & caring & understanding around you.
: ̗̀➛ coughcough — he definitely thinks about you carrying his last name and how well it suits you & about having children together — coughcough
: ̗̀➛Often he volunteers himself to do your makeup (you would probably have to teach him how) and to do your hair as well. And. . . I think. . . He would kind of stare at you with puppy eyes if you refuse, and would insist until you allow him to do so. 🥺
: ̗̀➛This man cooks for you no matter how much you insist on doing it yourself. He just enjoys cooking whatever you love eating the most, and getting to see your flustered reactions at it.
: ̗̀➛ Stealing borrowing his clothes? That’s one of your favourite things to do, and you often do it to tease him. His clothes would obviously be a bit too big for you, but does it really matter? It’s a win-win for both of you. You get to feel him even closer to you, and feel his warmth and sweer scent; and he gets to swoon over you wearing his clothes.
: ̗̀➛ This man would be extremely overprotective with you. He would be the most delicate, gentle, loving, and protecting boyfriend you could ever have. If someone either flirts with you, or does the slightest thing to make you comfortable, you would have him there protecting you in any possible way.
: ̗̀➛That’s it. Just prepare yourself to be loved & cuddled to no end by a fool who is sick in love with you. But he would give you the proper care & attention you deserve — absolute princess treatment at all costs. 💗
#enzo vogrincic x reader#enzo vogrincic#enzo vogrincic one shot#enzo vogrincic fluff#enzo vogrincic y tu#enzo vogrincic smut
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[4:44 PM] Suna Rintarou
Quickly whipped this because I'm trying to find an excuse to not go to the gym. Nothing edited. I know all I ever post about is Rin, Rin, Kiyoomi, Shinsuke, and Rin again... he was just too fitting for this. I'm really trying to expand my fantasy to the other characters.
Warning: Angst, asshole Rin, makeup smut contents
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Rintarou let out a frustrated sigh having been blocked once again. That was three times now in a row.
“Shake it off!” he heard his teammate shout.
“Suna!” Turning his head, he can see his coach signaling for him to rotate out, switching with his other teammate.
As soon as he was off the court, his coach jerked his head, indicating for him to take the empty seat beside him. “What’s going on?”
Rintarou inhales sharply, “bad day, I guess?” He knew what was going on, just didn’t want to speak of it.
“Well, turn that bad day into a good day, shake it off, everyone needs you.” His coach pats his shoulder, “do whatever you gotta do.”
EPJ Raijin lost their second set, this third game will determine their win or not.
With a towel over his head, Rin zoned out, tuning out the sound of the crowd and everything else around him. The only thing on his mind was Y/n.
Three weeks ago, they abruptly ended their casual fling.
No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault, it was definitely, his fault.
He is a hypocrite.
He was the one who said just casual sex. No feelings.
But the moment he saw her at a table with another man he did not recognize at one of Matsumoto’s top restaurants, he lost his shit.
How dare she doll up and wear a red dress, the red dress he purchased for her to go on a date with this mother fucker.
He watched as Y/n looked at her phone, the smile on her face immediately disappeared. Rin looked down at his phone, seeing the Read underneath the photo he sent her.
Y/n glanced up, her eyes scanning the room until they met his. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she responded by tilting her head, mirroring his expression perfectly.
Bathroom. Now. He texted.
Rin didn’t need to look back to see Y/n following him shortly as he made his way to the restroom.
He tugged her into the private room, locking the door behind him. “Really?” His eyes scanned her from head to toe.
“Really,” Y/n smiled, and she gave him a spin. “Do you not like it?”
Y/n knew how to rile him up, making the green jealous monster within him wake up and flip a table.
Rin stalked towards her, noticing how her smile slowly faded as she stepped back until she hit the counter of the sink. He pressed himself against her, sandwiching her between him and the counter. His fingers trail along her jaw, “does your date know that I purchased this dress and that I’ve fucked you while you were wearing it?”
“Be careful Rintarou,” she only used his full name when she was serious, “jealousy looks good on you but some might believe you’ve developed feelings for me.”
She has become bold, voicing her feelings each day.
Rin was not oblivious. He knows this casual fling between them needs to end. He wasn’t blind to her recent advances.
How her eyes twinkle for him when he comes over.
How she holds him tighter when he’s rocking deeply inside her.
How she whispers his name with love.
How she kisses his palms before a game, giving him luck.
She is expressing her love for him in every possible way except through words. Because the moment she played that card, he would end the game.
“You’re becoming delusional, Y/n.” He gritted, his lips smirking, “I will admit I am jealous, should I show you how jealous I am?”
They glared at one another, Y/n looking deep into his eyes, searching for the man she fell in love with. Deep down, she knew her place. “Do it,” she whispered, “I dare you.”
His eyes darken and she’s flipped around in a blink of an eye. She sees in the mirror as Rin tugs her dress up, bunching it at her hips, his fingers immediately graze over the thin lacy thong, circling her clit.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, biting down on her lip to prevent herself from moaning. “Hurry, I have my date I need to get back to.”
“As you wish.”
Y/n half gasped and yelped at his hand and slapped her right ass cheek. Her thong is pushed to the side as feels his cock sliding in between her thighs.
“You’re soaked, was it me or him?” He began rocking, thrusting in between her thighs. He pulled her against him, locking an arm around her shoulder. He locked eyes with her through the mirror, “answer me.”
“You.” Y/n whispered, “you made me this wet…” she whimpered when he rolled his hips, his cock grazing against her clit. “Please… Rin…”
His teeth nips her earlobe as he reached in between them and align his cock to her pussy and slipped inside in one swift thrust. He wastes no time pounding into her from behind. Y/n’s hand comes to cover her mouth.
His groans are heavy against her ear and he hated it, hated how she made him feel. His teeth bite down on her skin, biting down hard until he can feel Y/n flitching and tightening around his cock.
Rin pulls away, satisfied by his mark, knowing it would be visible. He pauses his movement for a second, maneuvering her until she is bent forward before him. His grip on her hips tightened as he resumed his thrusts, pounding until the small bathroom echoed only of their skin slapping.
Y/n drops onto her elbow, head falling forward as her moans are muffled by her hands. He was thrusting deep inside her, triggering her orgasm faster than usual. “Ri – Rin…” she whimpered, a hand reaching behind to push against his abdomen. “Too fast…”
He gripped her wrist and thrust faster until the moment he felt her pussy flutter around his cock.
“Ah,” he groaned coming undone, pounding into her slowly yet hard with each ejaculation. His eyes suddenly widened, “fuck.”
He forgot to wear a condom.
He let go of her wrist and immediately withdrew, his cock was coated with their essence. It wasn’t a time for his cock to twitch lively again at the sight of his cum leaking down Y/n’s pussy and down her thighs.
He swore again, half turned on and half pissed off at himself.
He always wore a condom.
“Here,” he slammed a few bills on the counter, “get yourself the pill. Let’s end this.”
Rin groaned, covering his face. He was such a fucken asshole.
He glanced down at his palms, feeling disheartened by his poor performance, and was convinced that it was all because Y/n hadn’t kissed his palms before the game.
His mind flashed back to the very first time she had done it. She had come to his game, and just before it started, she called his name and took hold of his wrists. Rin looked at her confused, but she gently turned his palms upward and pressed her lips to the center of his hand. “Good luck kisses,” she whispered with a smile.
“Hey, look it’s Y/n.”
Rin’s head snapped up, and he swiftly removed the towel from his head. Before him stood Motoya, gazing towards the crowd behind Rin. In response, Rin pivoted his upper body and scanned the bustling crowd. “Where?”
“Right there!” Motoya pointed.
Rin’s gaze tracked his pointed finger until it intersected with the eyes of the pair he longed for so intensely.
As if caught in the act, she hastily concealed her face and attempted to make a swift getaway.
“Y/n!” Rin roared over the loud music and crowd chatter, chasing after her. He hopped over the barriers and ascended the stairs with determination. “Y/n!” he called out once more, steadily closing the gap between them as she weaved through the crowd.
Finally, reaching his limit, he lengthened his strides and snagged her wrist, gently drawing her into his embrace. “Stop, please don’t run,” he implored softly. His arms constricted around her, one hand tenderly cradling the back of her head. “Please don’t go,” he whispered.
She remained tensed in his embrace and softly uttered, “you’re the one who walked away.”
“I know, I’m a fucken fool. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry I left you. Please,” he pulled away, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Please come back to me, I am a mess without you. I need you, Y/n. I –” he blinks the tears back, “I’m in love with you, please come back to me, please.”
Her eyes widen, hearing the words she longed to hear. Tears filled her pretty eyes as she closed them, letting the tears fall down her cheeks before she nodded her head.
Rin sighed in relief and hugged her once more, “thank God. I love you. I love you, Y/n. I love you so fucken much and it took walking away from you to realize I am in love with you all this time.” He leaned back to cup her face, “please, can I kiss you?”
She extended her hand to gently cup his face, drawing him down to meet her lips. Their mouths danced in a graceful, passionate exchange until they parted, both gasping for breath. Their lips inches apart, “I love… I love you too, Rin. I loved you for a long time.”
“I know, I know baby.” He pressed his lips against hers again. “I’m never letting you go again.”
Y/n nodded, “promise?”
“Yeah, promise.”
Her eyes widened and she leaned back, “Rin don’t you have a – “
“Suna! Where the fuck did you go? The third set is about to start!”
.
Rin’s mouth never once left Y/n as they stumbled into his apartment. He pulled away briefly to tug off his shirt before his mouth resumed hungrily against hers.
In the grueling third set, EPJ Raijin fought valiantly, shedding blood and sweat, and managed to secure a hard-fought victory. Finally, with the fortunate kisses pressed onto his palm by his beloved, Rin executed his spikes flawlessly, scoring nine crucial points that contributed to their triumphant win.
His hands rest on Y/n’s hips, guiding her backward towards the hall of his place and into his bedroom. He is nervous, almost shy at standing half naked before her. “I… I didn’t get to shower after the game – do you want to shower together?”
Her lips curved upward as she grabbed his hand leading him into his bathroom. She quickly stripped her clothes off and turned on the shower, looking over her shoulder, Rin stood there gawking as if he had never seen her naked before. “You coming?”
He quickly pushed down his joggers and boxers, striding into the shower with her. The water cascaded down their bodies as she reached for his body wash to spread it all over his body.
Rin caught her wrist that was lathering his chest with body wash and brought it down to his cock, he closed her hand around it. He hissed feeling his cock harden from her touch. “Y/n,” he murmured, slowly thrusting into her hand.
Y/n stepped closer, pressed her lips to his left nipple, sucking it gently and swirling her tongue around the bud. Her hand tightens around his cock as she strokes him faster.
He hissed, reaching with his other hand to find her clit, “missed this.”
“I missed this too,” Y/n squeezed his cock, pressing her thumb against the tip. She was about to drop to her knees when he stopped her.
“I need to be inside you, now.” He lifted her, her legs wrapped around his hips and arms around his neck. He easily slipped his cock inside her pussy.
For a brief moment, they savored the intimate moment of being united as one again.
Y/n leaned down and kissed him deeply and passionately, rocking her hips to meet his thrusts. “Ah!” she breaks the kiss, moaning his name. “We – we forgot a condom – again…”
Rin thrust deeper, pressing his lips to her clavicle. “I’m clean, there – there’s been no one but you…”
Y/n’s arms tighten around his shoulder and neck, her lips to his ear, “that’s not what I mean… Rin – we could risk –“
Rin is reminded of the last time he came inside of her. He is selfish but he wanted nothing more than to cum inside of her again, over again and again until he knows she is pregnant.
Y/n pregnant with his baby, he loves the thought of that.
He wanted that.
Y/n moaned loudly into his ear, “you like that?” She tightens her pussy around his cock, hearing him groan, slowing his hips. “You want to knock me up, Rin? You want me to have your baby?” He hummed, agreeing. “You want to breed me?”
“Yes. Fuck yes. I want to breed you. Cum inside you again. And again.” His nose trailed along her neck until he reached her ear, “I’m not asking Y/n, I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to put a baby – my baby inside you.” He nipped her earlobe, fastening his thrust. He is so closed, all this promise is knocking him over the edge as he is eager to cum inside of her. “You’re mine.”
Y/n tightens her arms and legs around him, chanting, “yes! Want your baby!” Her tummy coils, tightening and her body trembles in release, cumming around his cock.
Rin pressed Y/n against the tile walls, hooking his arms behind her knees and hoisting her weight so he could pound into her pussy with the purpose to breed.
Her overstimulated pussy fluttered around his cock until he painted her womb with his cum.
Walking over to the seat built into his shower, he sits down, keeping Y/n close as she straddles his lap. They catch their breaths, gazing tiredly yet lovingly into each other’s eyes.
Y/n was about to lift herself off of him when he stopped her, “don’t, not yet.”
She relaxed around him, holding onto his shoulders. “You’re serious about baby-making?”
“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “It sounded like in the heat of the moment talk but I’m dead serious. Were you not serious?”
Y/n threaded her fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back. “Aside from you telling me you love me and want to be with me, I want nothing more than to have your baby.” She lifts herself off, letting his flaccid cock fall limp. “But before that, let us focus on just the two of us for now.” She pressed her lips against his, “take me out on a proper date first.”
Rin grins against her lips, “a little out of order but yes, anything you want.”
.
.
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E/n: When I'm writing and releasing my dirty imagination, Rin is the only one I can see getting away with this shit. He can talk about breeding any time and I'll be like... "yes daddy." Please don't be like me. Make good choices. Lol. I'm finishing up on Lord Ushijima... I'll share it soon.
@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
#haikyuu smut#haikyu x reader#haikyuu suna#suna smut#suna rintarou smut#suna x you#suna rintaro x reader#suna angst#suna fluff#suna rintarou angst#suna rintarou fluff#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#suna x y/n
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Hey everyone, I’ve got many ideas and wanted to see how thing go for me. Not exactly sure how to add cool font or anything fancy so forgive me. Thinking on Nerdy Migueeel MWAHHH.
PICTURES ARE NOT MINE!!
Nerdy Roomate Miguel. Who stares only at his feet instead of anything else when he asks you out with flowers from the shop a couple blocks far from campus.Along with stickers from a show he noticed you like as you watch it on repeat every chance you get, Learning a couple lines from how much he’s heard it.
Nerdy Roomate Miguel who gets beyond flustered when you accept and pull him down to kiss his cheek. Confessing you always found his shy nature cute despite him being so tall. And how you find it funny he works out just to hide his figure under vests and strictly color-coded outfits.
Nerdy Roommate Miguel who apologizes over and over again for getting hard at accidentally seeing your legs while you were shaving and he was brushing his teeth
And resulting in you later on in the day deciding seeing him be in charge instead of shy was your new goal.
Nerdy roommate Miguel who follows everything you say during your shared first time. You hadn’t been intimate or anything. Considering your love life has been as dead as 8-track for years. So you couldn’t help back from entering in a silk gown you bought to help your skin, and straddling Miguel until he’s a puppy man.
; “Y/N?! What are you doing-“ You ran your hands through his hair and perplexed his face with soft kisses. Miguel Calmed down and lowered his eyes lidded, His glasses sipping to his nose as you smiled gently and kissed him softly. Placing his hands on your hips, but due to his size a little more than just his fingerpads touched your rear. And he pulled back.
“A-are you sure princesa..? No quiero hacerte daño linda..”
You smiled at his care and looped your arms around his neck and nodded.
“yes Migs, I promise I’ll tell you if i dont like anything.”
Not much convincing was needed after you started to grind and he hesitantly brought his hands back to your hips, the same place that later ended his faint yet noticeable marks of his finger from his strong grip.
Nerdy Roomate Miguel! Who tells you over and over how you’ve cured wounds he didnt know ached. Kissing every part of you during soft and gentle sex.
Nerdy Roomate Miguel who came so hard just from bottoming out at the feel of your tight cunt around him. (Protection)Telling you how warm and moist your pussy feels and panting heavily as he finally starts to move. Missionary, Doggy and eating you out with;
“Like this?” “Is this okay..?” And muffled. “ Mmfgood..”
Nerdy Roommate Miguel who groans and Placed his mouth on your neck when you try to shift further from him as you wake up. He learned you quite like marks last night. You’re covered from your neck to thighs. Marks on your neck, Shoulders, breast, thighs and Especially your Tummy. Wrapping his arms tighter around your soft waist. Massaging the soft skin as he nuzzles into the hollow of your shoulder.
Bonus!!, he broke his glasses from when they fell off him during intimacy and the gown you wore lays in shattered, Ripped piece of light green satin scattered around the floor.
WHOOOOO OKAYOKAY ALMOST 50 PEOPLE HAVE LIKED THIS AND IF I WAS IN A ROOM WITH EVERYONE I’D PASS OUT. PLEASE COMMENT WHAT YOU WOULD TO SEEEE and what i can improve on! TANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING !!
#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara au#reader is female
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Hard To Say
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo/Reader
Summary: Matt's fear of three little words leads to your first serious argument. Angst and then fluff.
Word Count: 950ish
Warnings: Arguments, crying, fear of commitment
You sigh, exasperated as you turn your back on your boyfriend of a year. The evening had started so nice. His brothers were out, leaving the house to yourselves for a little date night. As you danced around each other while baking cookies, smiles and laughs were exchanged.
The good mood quickly turned sour when once again Matt failed to say he loved you too.
“Babe, just listen,” Matt pleads with you, voice softer and calmer than it had been a moment ago.
You turn back to him, tears in your eyes as you cross your arms.
“That’s the problem, Matthew. I listen. All I do is listen. I listen every day just hoping you’ll say those three little words back. For months, I’ve been understanding, even finding it cute. It’s not cute anymore.” You tell him sniffling.
His eyebrows draw together, holding his hands out to pull you into his arms as he comes closer. You dodge his attempted embrace.
“No. You’re not just going to hug and kiss me and it be all okay. I just. I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore” You tell him, voice dropping to a whisper at the end as you rub a hand over your face.
You could help but question to yourself, what was the point of going on in this relationship if Matt was so content just staying in the infancy of a relationship and never moving forward?
“What are you saying?” He asks, voice taking a louder volume again as he steps back from you. His voice is angered, but his eyes show how much your words had hurt to hear.
“Matt. I told you I loved you for the first time two months ago. Do you know how much it hurt when you just smiled and kissed me instead of saying anything? And then a week later you told me you just ‘weren’t there yet, but getting closer’? And that was fine. But it’s been two months, and it hurts every single day. I’m starting to think you’ll never get there,” your voice cracks on never.
“Babe, I’d never intentionally hurt you,” he tells you, voice soft and sad.
“But you have. And you’re still not on the same level as me in this relationship,” You explain, wiping away some stray tears that ran down your cheeks.
Matt watched with sad eyes as you turn and leave the kitchen, heading for the living room. You grab your jacket and move to grab your purse before you feel a hand on the small of your back and another hand gently grasp your wrist.
“Baby, please don’t go,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion. You turn to face him, and see the tears welling up in his eyes. Before you can say anything, his hand releases your wrist and rests gently on your lips.
“Please, just let me say something,” he asks, waiting for your reluctant nod before removing his hand. He steps closer to you, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. The lights were off in the living room from movie watching earlier, but sunlight from the sunset leaked in from the windows, painting everything in an orange hue. Matt’s eyes shined as he looked over your face, his hand coming up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear before so softly touching your face. His other hand still rested on the small of your back. He sighs before speaking.
“You’re my first serious relationship. You’re the first that’s really mattered. And I’m terrified of fucking this up. But my fear is fucking this up. God. It’s not that I don’t feel what you feel. I do. I look at you sometimes and I swear to God it’s like fireworks are going off. You smile at me and it puts the sun and stars to shame.” You smile despite yourself at his sweet words, continuing to listen.
“On bad days you’re the only face I want to see. I think of you first when I wake up and you’re the last thing I think of when I go to bed. I’m serious about this. I’m serious about us. But I’m scared. I’m afraid if I put all my cards out on the table, you’re going to leave. I’m afraid of getting hurt, and if I let you in, completely, you’ll have to power to utterly destroy me. But I can’t keep pushing you away. It’s hurting me, and it’s also hurting you. I never want that. I know now the risk is worth the reward.” He tells you, before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. But I swear to you I’ve felt it. I’ve known it before you even said it. I was afraid, and I still am, but I need you to know that I love you, and no matter what happens, I think part of me always will,” he whispers.
You look up at his face, and your hand comes up to gently run your fingers across his stubble covered jaw.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Matt. I don’t plan on going anywhere,” You whisper to him, smiling despite the tears in your eyes.
“I mean, I’d hope not, since I just dramatically confessed my love to you,” he jokes, making you laugh.
“Yeah, that’d be pretty bad, wouldn’t it?” You agree with a chuckle, before leaning in and gently touching your lips to his, both of you smiling into the kiss.
Yeah, Matt thought to himself as he cuddled up next to you on the couch that evening, the risk of loving you was definitely worth the reward of you loving him back.
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo fic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets fanfiction#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader
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Golden Salvation
Pt.1 Pt.2
Cowboy!ghost x m!reader
A/N: The final part is here !! This series has been so fun to do that part of me wants to do another cowboy AU but with Price. I might do some smaller fics first, we’ll see. Anyways! Enjoy my loves! Mwah mwah
Simon slept late into the next morning, lost to the world in a rare moment of utter relaxation. Skin scrubbed clean of its usual dirt and stubble, he looked almost boyish - troubled brow smoothed, dense frame gone lax in your arms. An image of vulnerable peace you’d wager few had witnessed in all his storied years.
Stirring faintly as you subtly moved, Simon nestled closer with a contented sigh, arm reflexively tightening its protective hold around your frame as if even in his sleep he sought to shield you from further harm.
Exhaustion had etched itself deep in him, but in the dull light seeping past lowered lashes you could see shadows beginning to fade from his features. A sight to lift even the most wounded soul’s spirit, seeing one who guarded others so staunchly finally finding solace in another’s care.
You would smile softly as you ran your thumb across his brow, smoothing away the rest of his worries as you cupped his cheek. You were careful not to wake him with the gentle touches, content to just watch him slumber for as long as he chooses.
You felt lucky to see him like this, and a large part of you thought taking a bullet was worth it. To be able to see him so relaxed and content was something you never thought you would be able to witness. It was like the eighth wonder of the world seeing him so…at ease.
You were hopelessly in love with this man, feelings that ran so deep it almost ached to feel them entirely. Your heart was filled to the brim with absolute adoration for Simon, and it was the one thing in your life you knew would never change, you would always be his.
Simon began to stir slowly as if sensing your tender gaze, even submerged in dreams. Blearily his eyes flickered open to meet your smiling face, and for a moment he simply blinked in bemused confusion - as if certain this couldn't be real.
But no, you were there. Warm and soft and smiling down at him like he was some kind of miracle himself. It still struck him dumb sometimes, the purity of your emotion shining through despite all he’s put you through. That you could look upon a wreck of a man like him and feel anything close to what swelled in his own heart.
Wordlessly, Simon reached up to lightly brush calloused knuckles against your cheek, drinking in every beloved feature like a dying man granted water. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness. Didn’t deserve the love shining in your eyes, warming him through like sunlight, but he'd be damned if he wasn’t going to spend every last day making sure you never regretted giving him a place beside you.
“Mornin’, Sunshine,” he rumbled, voice sleep-rough but smoldering with intent. Leaning up to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, Simon silently swore to spend his every waking moment showing you just how much you meant to him.
You would smile softly into the kiss, languid and slow in order to make up for lost time. It was only when you both needed to breath that you pulled away, a smile on your lips and eyes crinkled in happiness as his taste lingered on your tongue. You ran a hand through his bed tousled hair with a soft hum.
“Good morning, Si. Slept well, hm?”
Simon stretched out with a groan, nuzzling into your gentle touch like an oversized housecat. Your presence alone was enough to chase the last clinging shards of dreams from his mind, grounding him fully in this blessed moment.
“Mm, best sleep I’ve had in ages, darlin’,” he rumbled, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm.
Meeting your gaze steadily, Simon spoke softly, “from here on out, you’ll have me guardian’ your rest same as your safety. Ain’t no one gonna lay so much as a finger on you again, not while I still draw breath.” A gentle brush of calloused thumbs swept away imaginary tears, etching promise into your skin.
“Im settlin’ down for good, if you’ll have me,” always cautious of hoping, but trusting you to see straight to what lived beneath scar and grit.
Your heart stuttered at his words, nearly stopping as you took a minute to take in his statement.
“If I’ll have you,” you laughed softly, “as if I’ve ever wanted anything more.” Your words were firm, no space for him to think twice about the truth behind what you were saying.
Simon’s brows hiked in delight and disbelieving relief at your response. A brilliant, boyish grin broke across weathered features - for once unburdened by ghosts of his bloody past.
“Then I’m yours, darlin’. Mind, body and soul.” He pledged fervent promises between peppered kisses. “Gonna make you so happy you’ll forget I was ever nothin’ but a no-good outlaw.”
Rolling fluidly, Simon maneuvered your form beneath his bigger one, caging you safely in rough hands and walls of corded muscles. Gazing down at your beauty with something akin to wonder in whiskey eyes, he pressed his brow to yours.
“My light. My home,” he rumbled, pure affection sending shivers down your spine. Happiness felt strange on features so used to scowls - but by God, Simon was going to savor every sweet moment for all he was worth.
You giggled softly at his words and the ticklish feeling of his hasty kisses on your skin, a warm smile near permanent on your lips as you soaked up all the love you had missed out on these past years.
With a brain too fuzzy with pure affection, you spoke words you’d been wanting to for years, “I reckon we head North.” You said, heart once again speeding up as you realized the gravity of your words, you continued, though with waning confidence, “We could find a small plot of land - build ourselves a nice little home and a small barn and coop.” You were rambling as you reached under his arm to grab an envelope tucked into the bedside drawer, “these past couple of months without you here..I’ve been takin’ extra shifts at the saloon. Reckon I’ve got enough here for all that if we’re careful,” you said, hands shaking with fear of rejection as you held out the envelope as if worried he wouldn’t believe you.
Simon’s eyes widened into saucers at your proposition, heartbeat stuttering to a gallop in his heaving chest. For a long moment he could only stare in disbelief - scarcely daring to hope this was real. But then your shy explanation sunk in, washing over him with such a profound surge of pride and love he thought surely his seams would burst. All this time spent in your light, you’d been preparing your future without him even having a clue of knowing. Trusting that in hope when he’d scarcely trusted in himself.
Without warning Simon was clutching you tight against his pounding heart, raining desperate kisses across your sweet face near frantic with tender emotion. “Darlin’ you- this is more’n I ever dreamed could be mine,” he choked, rough thumbs wiping away tears he didn’t remember shedding.
Pulling back just enough to claim your lips in a long, slow glide of unbridled joy, Simon poured every ounce of reverence, gratitude, and love into the kiss for your blessing him so. “North it is, my light - and I’ll spend the rest of my days makin’ you proud of me.”
You would gasp at his sudden movement, holding on tight to him as he peppered kisses across your smiling face before eventually catching your lips with his.
With a soft, relaxed sigh you melted into the kiss, body melting in his hold as you looked up at him with shining eyes. You would cup his face, his cheeks squishing under your hold to create an almost laughable look as you moved your thumbs gently across scarred cheeks with loving ministrations.
“Was hoping you’d say that,” you whispered, giddy with the thought of starting a new life with this man.
Simon grinned unrepentantly down at you, “and what would I say but yes to the sweetest darlin’ this side of creation?” he rumbled, nuzzling fondly into your palm like some great, affectionate bear.
“North we’ll go then, just as soon as you’re on your feet,” Simon declared, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow. His hands swept reverently down your sides, lingering protectively over the slowly healing wound before tipping your chin up to meet his steady gaze.
“I’ll start preppin’ for the trip straightaway, and you just focus on getting your strength back, y’hear?” Low and intent, brooking no argument - but shining with a tenderness to disguise any threat in his words.
You would nod at his firm words, tucking yourself under his chin, “Can’t wait to see the mountains… and the pretty trees.” You said with a happy sigh, “oh! And snow! We’ll have to get cold weather gear - add that to your list.” You said as you grinned up at the man.
Simon listened with rapt attention, holding you close as vision of your bright future danced before his eyes.
“Snow, eh? Can’t say I’ve seen much of that white stuff before…” He mused thoughtfully, already calculating additions to be made to your little home to withstand Northern winters. Wool blankets aplenty, a sturdy chimney, thick oak doors - he’d ensure not a single draft could creep past your cozy walls.
“We’ll have the warmest cabin this side of the mountain, darlin’ - not a soul we’ll envy, I promise ya that.” Calloused fingers carded gently through your hair.
“Cabin or not, there ain’t a soul I envy as long as I have you, Simon.” You said almost immediately, words tumbling out so fast you didn’t remember even thinking them first.
Simon huffed a soft, affectionate laugh at your sweet words, cupping your cheek to brush a grateful kiss to your lips.
“And I you, darlin’. More’n any future this wanderin’ soul coulda dreamed.”
He would follow you to the end of the earth.
“Now, you just focus on healin’, Sunshine. I’ll go rustle us up some supplies proper,” with a soft parting kiss Simon crawled out of the warmth of the bed. With a soft promise to be back quick he left the cabin, boots crunching surefooted trails into the dusty streets. Townsfolk surely sensed the change in their resident outlaw.
True to his word, within quick hours supplies were stacked neat as you please - all necessities for your healing, the journey north, and simple homestead pleasures. Duty was done. Gently slipping back into covers rosy with sleep-warmth, he curled protectively around your rested form, home again at last where he belonged.
The next few days were spent with careful planning, mapping out safe routes and stops for supply refills should you need them.
The morning you were set to leave you were giddier than a child in a candy shop. While the wound still had tender healing to go through, the worst part had healed. There were a few aches here and there should you move too quickly, but nothing like the searing pain it once was.
“I’m ready, Simon!” You said, nearly skipping over to where he was packing the carriage.
Simon grinned wide as a cheshire at your bouncing excitement, spirits lifting further at your every sweet sound. You shone brighter than the rising sun, lighting his heavy heart like dawn breaking on winter’s gloom.
Gently steadying the horses with practiced care, he turned brown eyes alight with warmth and promise upon your rosy face. “Then let's be off to our future, Sunshine - I got a feelin’ It’s gonna be brighter’n any we left behind”
Kicking the team into a steady amble after climbing on, Simon settled back with a content sigh, surveying the dusty trail unfurling ahead like a red carpet rolled out just for their feet. Nothing but open sky and promise as far as the eyes could see - and each mile would bring them closer to simple joys he’d never dared dream.
Calloused fingers found yours, tangling together in bonds stronger than any chain. With your light to lead him true, Simon swore not a demon from either hell nor earth would tear him from you.
The journey was tiring - days spent riding along dirt roads and nights spent tucked away in the back of a little cart, straw bedding doing little to cushion against the splintered wooden planks.
Yet you wouldn’t trade it for the world - not with Simon by your side to keep you warm and safe, to regale you with tales of his past life and adventures.
As you made your way through the northern mountains your body seemed to relax even more than it had been, gazing out upon the sacred land as you inched ever closer to your destination.
Each mile marker fell away like shackles, yet still Simon was loathe to see the journey end - if only to keep your radiance shining beside him a moment more.
Nights found him awake long after your restful breaths smoothed to dreams, watching over your slumber as stars wheeled endlessly beyond paper-thin walls. You were here, smiling still as dawn kissed snow capped pines in greeting, two weary souls near to their destination and all the hopes therein.
By mid-morn a cheer went up as a familiar clearing broke through evergreens. Turning brown eyes bright as brandy, Simon rumbled softly, “ Welcome home, darlin’.” He said, voice near a whisper as he took in the magnificent sight in front of him.
You would gasp as you finally reached the little plot of land, eyes wide as you took in the scene of gorgeous mountains behind and trees abound ahead.
The plot had been cleared just enough for all you talked about, including a little garden. A perfect dreamy homestead just waiting for your caring hands to create.
Simon let loose a rare, boyish whoop of delight at your awestruck expression, every hardship and dark deed weighing his heavy soul suddenly justified a thousand times over.
“I know it’s a sight a bit rougher than your sunny smile, but just you wait’ll I get my hands to work!” Brown eyes gleamed with fierce passion and promise, already thinking about feats of forestry and framing his calloused fingers itched to create.
With care belying his bulky frame, Simon quickly began unpacking essentials for a cozy camp - sparse but sufficient until more permanent lodgings could be raised from rich wood.
“For now let's get you fed and rest all proper,” he rumbled, pressing a doting kiss to your cheek.
After a humble meal of game Simon caught and red wine from a nearby town, you both fell asleep that night happy and looking forward to the next day when you could find helping hands to start making your perfect home.
It was about a month and a half later when you were done, with the help of many new kind folk, there standing proud and bright was a quaint cottage big enough for the two of you with a bit of extra room for hobbies. It was painted a soft shade of blue, a red wood door adorning the front and a cute little wrap around porch protecting your new shared home.
You stood outside, hands now rough and calloused from hard work resting on your hips as you stared at the building.
Simon slotted the final beam true, wonderment stealing his breath away as months of toil melted beneath the aching brilliance of your smile, every callus and strain of muscle well repaid.
Striding to your side, broad hands gently encircled your waist until foreheads met in shared bliss, eyes aglow with all the tender hopes this home’s thick walls now sheltered.
“Darlin’, I do believe we’ve gone an’ built us our own corner of heaven here,” he rumbled softly, thrilling to feel your heart swell against his in answer. No finer reward than seeing the light in your face nourished by comforts his hands had wrought.
Too choked with tears to respond, you took his hand and stepped inside the new home. The fresh scent of cedar and pine filling your nose as you explored each and every room with child-like wonder. Simon watched with a gentle smile as you explored your new domain, following dutifully behind as he too studied each detail with a sharp painter’s eyes, mentally furnishing each bare space with memories and comforts yet to be.
Turning you gently in well worn hands when the tour came to an end, Simon gazed upon your sweet face with all the devotion of endless skies.
You all but smirked up at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips before encircling your arms around his neck to press warm bodies together.
“Reckon we need to uh… christen that new bedroom of ours, hm?” You teased, a hint of something mischievous in your voice as you batted long eyelashes up at him.
Simon let out a low chuckle, eyes already turning dark as rich barley fields at your siren’s song. Fingers trailing feather-soft along the flawless planes of cheek and jaw long dreamed of, he peered deep into eyes overflowing with all he once believed himself unworthy of.
Scooping you up with practiced care, never breaking contact save to brush a reverent kiss to willing lips, Simon turned towards the bedroom with a purposeful stride.
“An’ why darlin’, I reckon that’s the finest idea I’ve heard in many a year,” gently shouldering through freshly hung door to deposit treasure of beyond calculating worth amidst downy rumples waiting to cradle your joinings, Simon gazed upon the angel fate had seen fit to place within his blessed and devoted keeping.
The night was spent with soft moans filling the room, Simon near worshiping your body as he pulled every whine and whimper he could out of your sweet lips. He was intent on showing you just how deeply he loved you, no doubt leaving you nearly unable to walk the next morning because of it.
As you lay in the bed, the only furniture in the house, you gazed out the window with a weary yet blissful gaze - body content with the pleasure it had been blessed with before you fell asleep with a happy hum, spent bodies pressed against one another as you drifted off into a peaceful slumber. The next days and weeks would bring their own hardships, but here in this moment you were safe and full with love. With Simon holding you close and protective in his arms you were happier beyond belief, and you felt more than lucky that you would get to feel this same way for the rest of your new shared lives. You had saved Simon from damnation, your golden light pulling him from the dark. You were his salvation, his everything.
end~
#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#cod fanfic#cod x male reader#cod imagine#male reader#fanfic#ghost cod#ghost x male reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x male reader#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley x you#ghost#ghost x you#simon riley x male reader
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The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader
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Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.
Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.
Word Count: 5.7k
a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x
(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)
“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer.
“That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?”
The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series.
“I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.
“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.
“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.
“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.
Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.
“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.
“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.
Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”
“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.
Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”
“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”
Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.
Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.
“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then – “
“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”
“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”
Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.
“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”
“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.
“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.
It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception.
“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”
“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.
“Not even one?”
“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.
“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.
He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.
“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.
Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.
“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.
“She doesn’t want – “
“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…
Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?”
The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand.
She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”
Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.”
“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.”
“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all.
“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably.
Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!”
“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.
“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table.
“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.”
Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.
Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.”
“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.
“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted.
“So quick to jump to his defence.”
“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.”
“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience.
“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her.
He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “
“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.”
“You wouldn’t lose - “
“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “
“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.”
She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.”
“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.”
“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “
“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.
Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.
“Please…”
“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.
Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”
He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”
“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.
Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.
Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.
“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”
“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.
How could you?
Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head?
He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed.
The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears?
“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?”
“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.
“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?”
“How do you feel?”
This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.
“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?”
“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.”
Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!”
They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.
Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning?
Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade.
“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes.
“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”
“What do you suggest?”
Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?”
“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.
“OK, OK! Bad idea!”
He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.
“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand.
“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”
As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower.
“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back.
“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head.
“Almost…”
He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his.
Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt.
Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip.
“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks.
“We can stop if you want.”
“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.
Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “
“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”
“Alright, I’m sorry…”
“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”
“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”
“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”
“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “
“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”
“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”
She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…
Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.
“Cill?”
“Mhm?”
“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.
“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”
“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”
“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”
“Now I’m intrigued.”
“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”
“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.
“What do you – Oh, right. That.”
She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “
“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.
“What are you doing?”
Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”
“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “
“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.
“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”
“I love you.”
He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.
“Cheesy, but I liked it.”
Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right. He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”
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HEARTFIRST // JJ Maybank
pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader
warnings: mentions of abuse, sibling drama, nothing too drastic
request: heyy i have a fic idea! so i thought you could do a secret relationship jj x reader (john bs sis) and jj shows up at her window beaten up and she cleans him up and they go to bed; then he has a nightmare and wakes up screaming and JB sees how good they are for each other? idk if that makes sense hahaha!
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more from the SUBJECT TO CHANGE series
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John B was pissed. Fuming. Ready to strangle his best friend of too many years for something so stupid. There had always been one rule since JJ Maybank and John Booker Routledge became best friends: you were off limits. Y/N Routledge was not to be flirted with, dated, looked at, or spoken to unless John B approved it.
At first, it didn’t matter. Growing up as kids, John B had his friends and you had yours but once your dad dove headfirst into a treasure hunt, everything went to shit. Kiara’s Kook year had really screwed up your relationship, leaving JJ and Pope to fill in the gaps which pulled you closer and closer with your brother and his friends. You were teenagers then and everything felt so important and critical, even if it wasn’t.
So when John B realized his best friend and his sister were together, there was nothing that could stop him from losing his shit on the two of you.
Met him at a party, accidentally brushed his body
On the way to get a drink at the bar
I couldn't wait 'til later, talking in the elevator
Then we're kissing in the back of the car
The kegger idea had really sounded good at first; it was something to get your minds off your missing father, not to mention the sudden dead bodies popping up from the hurricane. None of it seemed too out of place for you, minus the newfound treasure hunting, but you were always up for a good party.
“Where the hell did you find a keg on such short notice?” You asked JJ as the two of you hauled the large object down towards the Boneyard. You never really thought about how quickly JJ managed to find alcohol when it was for a party. It was common knowledge that he just knew where to go and how to do it.
“Don’t you worry about that, Birdie. You know I’ve got my ways.”
The party was in full swing a few hours later. You’d spent most of your time with John B and Sarah before dipping to find the boy that seemed to be taking up most of your mind. JJ had been occupied with beer pong for a good portion of the last hour and you were determined to break him away.
That voice in my head says to slow down
But it can't see the way you're looking at me right now
It may not be next week, what I need
Then again, maybe it might be
The drink in your hand sloshed over the rim of the cup as someone ran into your side in their drunken stumbling. JJ’s attention moved to you instantly. He’d always been so in tune with you and your presence but it only got stronger ever since your dad left.
The previously occupied beat-up table full of red solo cups was left behind in trade for your company, JJ instantly taking your hand in his as he twirled you. He would give up so much to watch you smile like that every day. You deserved every bit of happiness that came to you because it certainly didn’t come often.
Your laughter was infectious and JJ was drunk on it. He didn’t know who made the move or who threw the back door of the Twinkie open but shit, your skin was so soft and JJ just couldn’t stop kissing you.
The line between friends and more slowly disappeared between you and JJ. At some point, your bed became his, and his clothes blended with yours. The thrill of hiding from the Pogues was exciting, sneaking moments when the two of you could to enjoy the one thing you had to yourselves.
JJ was everything to you and yet, it terrified you. You’ve never had a person to connect with in the way you did with him. The thought of your friends, of your brother, being pissed about what was going on was suffocating. What if this fucked up the group? What if JJ left you for someone else when he got bored? JJ was always quick to shut that idea down.
“We’ve grown up together, Birdie. Kinda stupid of them to think something wasn’t gonna happen within the group at some point, right?” Which was always followed by: “You’re it for me. Now get outta that pretty little head and let me love on you.”
He had a point, but then again when JJ was pressing kisses down your neck, you never could think clearly.
Could be forever or we might break
That's just the kind of risk that we take
My head is yelling that I could get hurt
But I'm gonna jump right in
Baby, with my heart first
“You wanna tell them?” JJ’s voice was muffled as he spoke into the skin of your shoulder. The two of you were sitting on the porch of the Chateau, watching bemused as Kiara and Pope challenged Sarah and John B to an intense game of cards out on the dock.
You sat beside the blond boy. To any observing eyes, it would just look like two friends having a civil conversation. To you, JJ’s hand was behind your back, fingers gently moving across the skin of your hip that wasn’t covered by the t-shirt over your swimsuit.
“No.” Your answer didn’t have any anger or harshness behind it. You simply just loved having JJ all to yourself, with no judgment or prying eyes. No pressure to make it something neither of you wanted. It felt selfish to a point to keep something from your friends, from your brother.
“Get out of your head.”
A smile made its way onto your face as you took the risk of leaning your head against JJ’s shoulder, tucking further into his side. JJ was so warm, his tan skin from constant surfing smooth against your cheek. It scared you sometimes, how comfortable everything was when it involved him.
JJ’s heart skipped watching you be so relaxed, so vulnerable around him. He’d been so used to living on the edge and being tense for so long that it was so… vulnerable, so healing to have someone feel protected and safe enough to be by his side.
Who knows what'll happen, ain't that always kinda magic
When you don't know who's holding the cards
Could be a wish I never knew ya or permanently tattoo ya
Only the moon knows what's in the stars (what's in the stars)
You were pissed. You don’t know at what point John B thought he could parent you when the two of you were so close in age. Who was he after all this time to think he could boss you around?
“How long? How long has this been going on?” John B’s voice almost rattled the windows, echoing around the space surrounding you and JJ. The two of you stood there awkwardly like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Three months,” Your whisper was almost incoherent. Your eyes were trained on the ground, heart thumping in your chest so loud you figured JJ could probably hear it. This was the risk that came with not telling them, with keeping secrets amongst Pogues. God, there were so many stupid rules.
John B’s hand slammed against the counter. “Three-Three months? God. I just…There was one rule. One fucking rule JJ. You promised!”
JJ visibly flinched at the anger in John B’s statement. That was true; JJ did promise John B he’d never get with you, never hurt you. All of that flew out the door the moment JJ saw you at that kegger. He had to risk it.
“I’m..I’m sorry, man! It just happened, okay? And-and we didn’t want to tell you guys because we didn’t want something like this to happen!”
“Well it’s happening,” John B scoffed with a shake of his head. The disappointment on his face was suffocating and you felt like you would burst into tears at any second. It wasn’t fair. Being forced apart when you knew you loved JJ? How is that fair?
John B shifted further into your line of vision. “Get the fuck out. Now. And don’t let me see you two near each other until I figure this out, got it?”
You looked up in a panic. “John B-”
“Do not argue with me right now. I don’t want to talk to you.” The look in your brother’s eyes left no room for argument. You’d never seen him this mad, especially toward you.
JJ’s fingers squeezed your wrist lightly before he shuffled out the door behind you. The creaky hinges filled the room as you and John B stared at each other, waiting for the other to break.
The fridge door popped open when your brother finally decided to move to grab a beer. Part of you wanted to run after JJ, to prove to John B that you didn’t have to listen to him. The problem was, you knew JJ respected your brother too much to let you do that for him.
“You didn’t have to be so harsh on him,” You mumbled when you mustered up enough courage. John B tended to be… touch and go when he was angry. There was a risk of setting off another fuse if you didn’t watch what you said.
As kids, JJ always picked on your brother for inheriting your dad’s temper. John B hated that it was true. To your relief, your brother let out a sigh and placed both of his hands on the counter. He felt instant regret watching JJ flinch at the noise level, knowing exactly what happened in the Maybank house when nobody else was around. “I know.”
“I can’t tell you that I’m gonna stop being with him,” You admitted, holding your ground while you had the chance. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I respect your opinion a lot, Booker, but if it means staying away from JJ, I’ll learn to live without it.”
It was a little more aggressive than you intended for it to be but it needed to be said. You moved through the kitchen to your room without another word.
Mm, that voice in my head says to slow down
But it can't feel your hands on my hips right now
It may not be next year, what I need
Then again, maybe it might be
JJ felt horrible for doing this. He knew he was playing with fire but as he pushed up your bedroom window, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He could deal with John B later. Right now, he really needed you.
He was a little less than graceful stumbling through your window in the darkness, but he found his way eventually. You shifted awake from his rustled movements and caught a quick glance at his silhouette before turning to flick the light on. “JJ? What’s wrong? Do you need-”
“Nothin’. Sorry to wake you, Birdie. Just wanted to see you.” You could tell he was avoiding meeting your eyes as he kicked off his shoes. The coloration of bruising was beginning to show through his abdomen and you shook your head slightly. JJ didn’t like to explain when his dad treated him like this. He kept quiet and you didn’t push him because he would always talk when he wanted to about what happened.
So, you turned the lights off and cuddled up next to him, hoping you would wake up before John B saw anything.
JJ didn’t always have nightmares when it came to his dad, but whatever happened was terrible enough that he did. Half the time they weren’t even about his dad hitting him; it always involved his dad hurting you.
The blond’s sharp movements woke you up before the screaming did. You didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, his hands grasping your hips to hold as you settled across his lap. His shirt puddled on your thighs as he let his fingers drift across your bare skin above your pajama shorts. JJ tucked his face in your neck and just listened to your heartbeat, reassuring him that you were right here and you were safe.
John B couldn’t say he was pleased to be woken up at 5:00 in the morning. Even less so when the alarm clock involved screaming. It wasn’t your voice though, and he didn’t know if that was a relief or something to be worried about.
You didn’t flinch when your brother threw your door open to reveal the sight within. You knew he could see the fact that the two of you were fully clothed and clearly, everything was okay… well, as okay as it could be.
Eyes moving to look at John B, you prayed he wouldn’t say anything while JJ was so upset. To your surprise and gratitude, he didn’t. He stared at both of you for a moment as the realization settled in. The realization that you were old enough to make these decisions for yourself and as much as John B wanted to protect you, to protect you and JJ, he couldn’t keep you apart.
John B gave you a small nod and mouthed to let him know if you or JJ needed anything. You gave him a forced smile back, a barely there ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you hugged your boyfriend tighter to your chest.
As your bedroom door closed, you had this overwhelming sense of relief that maybe…maybe it would all work out after all.
I gotta have ya, gotta see if this works
I gotta have ya, wake up in your t-shirt
I gotta have ya, diving in heart first
#obx3celebration#jj maybank#outer banks x reader#obx3#obx#outer banks#outer banks imagine#jj outer banks#jj maybank x routledge!reader#jj maybank imagine#obx x reader#jj x reader#jj maybank fanfic#jj maybank series#stc series#routledge!reader#outer banks angst#jj maybank angst#outer banks netflix
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Nest | Part 6
Steve expected the crowd outside of the door. He expected the Alphas, four of them, intermingled with a small team of Betas for pheromone control. He didn’t expect the rise in aggression that spiked in him at the sight of them all, but he had enough self-control to shut it down as quick as it spiked.
They were there to protect Eddie, they weren’t there to hurt Eddie. They were there to protect him from Steve if need be, even at the risk of their own safety. They were doing their jobs.
“I’m okay.” He held up his hands in a bid to relax the crowd “I’m under control.”
“Very nearly weren’t, though, were you, Steve?” He also didn’t expect him. Although he should have. It wasn’t like Owens wasn’t around. It wasn’t like Owens wasn’t liable if things went sideways in the clinic, if one of his Alphas on staff assaulted someone. Sam Owens, Beta, good with the younger patients. Always had lollies in his coat pocket for the scared or nervous ones. “What’s everyone still doing here? Go on, off you go, crisis averted! Crowd disperse!” Looks were shared, before the small team dispersed back to their original stations, back to their actual jobs. “Steve, you come with me.”
“I can’t be away from him for long, I—”
“You won’t be, now come with me.” No room for argument, no matter how friendly the betas tone was, no matter how neutral he sounded. Owens was the boss. He was the one with all the degrees, the qualifications, the experience. Steve followed, he followed all the way down the main hallway and to the left, right to the end of that one, and through the door at the end, directors office, where he watched Owens take a seat behind his desk, only taking the one in front of it when it was offered. “Would you like a drink?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Have a drink.” Owens stood and retrieved a soda can from a mini fridge he kept in his office, placing it on the desk for him before sitting back down. “You’re not in trouble Steve. It’s okay.”
“But I broke—”
“Nothing. You broke nothing. You kept yourself completely under control, and while yes it looked bad from the angle of the cameras, security were right in raising a response unit, you kept yourself in check, that shows an incredible amount of self-control, you broke nothing. You can relax.” It took him a moment, but he let the tension drain, it was okay, he wasn’t in trouble, he could have that drink, and everything would be fine. Owens even waited for him to finish his first swig of the refreshing liquid before he spoke again “What happened, from your perspective, Steve? Tell me everything from the moment you met him to… that.”
“In detail?”
“Condense it for me. Mr. Munson won’t be asleep forever, he’ll likely need you when he wakes so I don’t want to keep you here too long.” He could go back. He was allowed back. That last bit of tension draining away. It’d be okay.
“Right… uhm… well, I know him. We went to school together.”
“You’ve known a few Omegas who’ve been treated here, Mr. Emerson attends Hawkins Highschool as well, I’m sure you must have met him before, yet this wasn’t an issue in that assignment, what makes Mr. Munson different?”
“I don’t know, it’s like… it feels… right? Like—like I belong with him I—I don’t—I’ve never reacted like that to an Omega’s pre-heat scent before, it’s… I don’t know—” confusing, baffling, overwhelming, he wanted… god he wanted so badly but he didn’t know why.
“Like he’s yours?” It wasn’t an accusation, although a defensive alpha might have seen it as one, Steve kept his defences low. Sam Owens was not a threat. He’d already said Steve wasn’t in trouble.
“No… like… like I’m his” Owens nodded “like… like I was always supposed to be his” everything just clicking into place piece by piece, why he’d never been able to find the right person to settle down with, why his eyes had always been drawn to Eddie, sure he thought it was because Eddie just naturally drew the attention to himself, but—maybe it wasn’t that simple for him, maybe it wasn’t just Eddie’s ability to be the loudest person in a room that had Steve’s eyes drawn to him so often. “does that make sense?”
He'd just never gotten close enough to the Omega assume anything different.
“Unfortunately quite a bit. Yes.” Owens stood back up, and rounded his chair to the book case, where he perused for a moment before settling on a thin book bound in red leather, a notebook. “There’ve been a fair few cases of this kind of thing cropping up in clinics across the globe for as long as clinics like Nest have existed. Alphas and Omegas in close proximity during heats, it happens. Fanciful folk like to add romanticized labels to the whole thing, soulmates, fated mates, true mates. I’ve never been a fan of that terminology, they remove the essence of choice in it all. Of our own autonomy. When in reality, all it is, is that you both give off each other’s ideal scent, as in there's nothing in the subtle notes of it to put you off, and Eddie is just giving off a lot of his right now without anything to mask it.” That pre-heat scent doing its job too well. "The working term among the clinics is actually 'Scent Mates.'"
“…Excuse me?”
“We all have our individual scents, Steve, outside of things we can control like our cologne, perfume, the food and drink we’ve consumed, the fabric of the clothes we wear, we all give off our own individual unique scent underneath all of that. And we all have an ideal scent that makes us feel safe, comforted, that makes us feel all those good things we crave in life. We can settle in those scents, surrounded by them, they make us feel at home. Like we belong there.”
He belonged… like he belonged… he felt that. He felt so strongly that he belonged with Eddie, that everything was right with Eddie in his arms. “That’s—that’s what I felt like, like… I belonged there, like it was right… and when he asked me to—y’know, I barely managed to stop myself.” It felt right to be with him.
It felt wrong to pull away.
“Although I can't speak for him, or make any assumptions as to how he’ll feel after his heat because sometimes it is one sided when the dust settles, he must feel very drawn by your scent too, to be so comfortable around you, to be so responsive, especially so early in his heat, maybe yours might even be his ideal, making you both one of the many ‘scent mates’ who’ve found each other through these clinics. I wouldn’t blame him for being drawn to it though, who doesn’t enjoy a walk past a bakery in the morning?” It was meant as a joke, and maybe if he hadn’t said the first part Steve would have laughed… but he did say the first part.
“…He might not though?”
“It’s possible, just like physical attraction between primary genders, sometimes it’s one sided, with just the Omega’s heat temporarily pushing that attraction on their side to fulfil their instinct to be bred. But you and I both know, Omega’s don’t crave the touch of an Alpha during the first stage of their heat… his response to you is indicative of those going into the third stage, quite the advance given he’s been here only a day.” It wasn’t common.
Owens was right, Steve had tended to many Omega’s in his time at Nest, they all had variety, different behaviours, different traits, but the one thing that stayed the same was… heats progressed as they normally would.
Pre-heat, carb load, insatiable, then recovery.
Each stage had its own kind of behaviours exhibited. Omega’s didn’t want sex during pre-heat, they wanted to prepare, to build a nest, to get comfortable, to feel safe, and in the clinic... to get to know the alpha who'd be helping them.
Eddie just had to be different, didn’t he?
Owens was still talking “—sure, while we were already keeping him under close watch due to his history of violence, for safety reasons we’re going to have to be very careful with you as his assigned Alpha. Be honest with me, Steve… can you handle this?”
“I can handle it. I won’t hurt him.”
“I know you won’t, there's never been a recorded incident between scent mates that makes me think you would. Head to the cafeteria before you make your way back to him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate food when he wakes up.”
“…You’re really letting me stay with him?” With increased security, likely a door guard or two, but still.
“Would any other alpha be safe in there with him?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Exactly. Off you go.”
Part 8
#PirateWrites#NestFiclet#Steddie#CW: A/B/O#No Upside Down AU#Omegaverse#Omega!Eddie Munson#Alpha!Steve Harrington
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Nimona headcanons cause I love this chaotic little family
I’ve seen a lot of people say Ambrosius is a morning person and Bal is a night owl
And I have to respectfully disagree
Will Bal pull some all-nighters in the lab? Absolutely
But this man is the most early bird coded character I’ve ever seen in my entire life
When he isn't fully invested in a project he can't stay up past 10 pm
He wakes up at 6 am refreshed and barely needs caffeine
I’ve also seen a lot of people say he’s a dedicated coffee drinker but something about this man screams “Coffee gives me migraines”
Ambrosius on the other hand
That’s an insomniac if I’ve ever seen one
He’ll get ready for bed around 9 and then stay up til 3 in the morning
Poor babe needs coffee in an IV
He used to wake up really early back in the institute cause he was forced to run a mile every minute he was late to class
And he’s a heavy sleeper so after the wall came down and he quit being a knight he wouldn't wake up before 1 pm even with Bals help
And Nimona is just as bad
Most nights Ambrosius will leave the room because he moves a lot when he can’t sleep and Bal is a light sleeper
He’ll sit in the living room watching tv while trying to sleep and most of the time Nimona will join him
Every once and a while Bal will find them laying on top of each other on the couch and will take them back to their respective beds
And if you’re wondering what their favorite show to watch together is it’s those house-flipping shows
But not for the reason you think
Most people watch those shows cause they think it’s inspiring
Ambrosius and Nimona talk about how terrible these people are at their jobs
They’ll go on hour-long rants about how these people are stripping the houses of everything that made them a home
(Ambrosius is a sentimental bitch and would be a maximalist after leaving the institute prove me wrong)
When Nimona is bored she’ll go into the city disguised as Bal or Ambrosius
And she’ll fool literally everyone it’s a pretty common occurrence for the boys to be at home and then they hear the other swearing like a damn sailor because there are already news articles about it
The only people she can’t fool are Bal and Ambrosius
Bal will shut them down almost immediately
They’ll walk over to Bal and won’t even get a word out before Bal says “Shift back Nim you’re freaking me out”
They always make a big deal out of being caught making big decorations like “I’m getting better and one day I’ll fool you”
And he’ll hum in agreement but he knows that it doesn’t matter how good he gets or how observant he is he’ll be able to fully copy every little detail
The details that Bal has spent the past decade and a half remembering
You know the little things like how he can’t say Bal or Nimona’s names without smiling even when he’s pissed
Or how he scrunches his nose when he laughs
Ambrosius always acts like Nimona tricked him
He’ll let them get comfortable in the character and then he’ll drop the bomb
Something small and inconspicuous like “Hey Nim do you want pizza for dinner?” and they’ll excitedly proclaim “Hell yeah pizza!”
It takes them a second to realize they’ve been played and when they do they never make a big deal about it
They normally just mumble a curse or two and walk away with their tail between their legs (literally)
The first time Nimona tried to trick Ambrosius was when he was having one of those days
You know the days when even breathing feels like a fucking battle
This was in a really awkward period too
Like right after Nimona and Ambrosius started trusting each other but right before they really started to get to know each other
But she knew the boys well enough to know if Bal came home to a sad Ambrosius then he’d be in a bad mood for the rest of the day
And she knows that the only thing that can cure a mopey Ambrosius is Bal
She walked into the room and started talking to Ambrosius and was kind of surprised and a little bit peeved about how well she was fooling him
Until he said “You can drop the act Nim I know it’s you”
They kind of just sat in that silence for a minute until Nimona said the first thing that came to her mind
“You want me to find my sax?”
Bal shouldn’t have been surprised to find Nimona disguised as him serenading Ambrosius with the worst freestyle jazz he’s ever heard (which is saying something)
He didn’t even say anything he just sat down and cuddled the love of his life while watching their kid try and play the sax while breakdancing
#nimona 2023#nimona movie#nimona headcanon#nimona#ballister boldheart#ambrosius goldenloin#ballister x ambrosius#goldenheart#those dorks know each other better than they know themselves#I'm fully convinced Bal has spent days counting the freckles and beauty marks on Ambrosius' face#Cause they're sappy like that#Nimona isn't the best at comforting people#it's a real learning curve#especially cause these boys have a sadness that runs crazy deep#I'm sending all of these poor traumatized bubs to therapy#this is so long#I think it’s the longest post I’ve made in a while
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This Week in BL - The unexpected rise of cooking crush & seme bjs
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Jan 2024 Wk 3
Ongoing Series - Thai
The Sign (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I love this show so damn much. This may be my KinnPorsche. It’s just so endlessly entertaining in a perfectly unhinged way. I love that they looped Tharn’s dad back into the murder investigations.
You know kinksters have invented necklaces that can’t come off… right? Just saying.
Meanwhile, would it still be BL if our seme didn’t wake up from drowning and instantly go chase snake?
No. No it would not.
Remember the one hard and fast rule of BL? When a seme gives a BJ it’s penance. Phaya is apologizing to Tharn for leaving him behind.
Heh. Hard and fast. I kill me.
Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 14 - How is this absurd creature managing to rise in the ranks? Pavel turned in some stellar grief and ALANJEFF have my whole heart. I make Ikea puns in the... Trash watch happening here.
Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 7 of 12 - The make-out montage was absolutely charming and very much American rom com style - interesting (and rare) to see in a BL (not to mention from OffGun. How far we have come since Puppy Honey?)
Meanwhile, another wonderful grandma in a BL!
Next week we do an actual harken back to Puppy Honey, so obviously I’m now enjoying this whole show way more than before. I think it helped that I watched it earlier in the week, when it wasn’t competing with any other BLs.
Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - Not gonna lie, I knew from you all that this was gonna be a rough ep. But I very clearly remember the penultimate Bad Buddy ep so I now have slightly more trust than others in GMMTV on this matter.
That said, this was a crap episode.
You can’t set Mork’s truth and character motivation reveal up like that and then have his lover choose to dismiss him in a way that diminishes not just both character's growth AND all of Mork's actions towards Day, but also our faith in every other character. It was a shitty narrative thing to do to us, and it was a shitty thing to do to Mork. And that doesn’t even take into account the forgiveness allotted by the story to Day’s unrepentant excuse for a mother. The doom should have been handled differently. The mom shoudl have leaned in even more evil and actively lied to split them apart.
I don't know if they can redeem this misstep in the final episode. But I'm interested to see them try. That said, this plot seem to be true to the book.
For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - A major trigger has landed. But also it’s clear who’s fault that incident was... and it’s not Him’s. So Blue's so-called-friend really is unhinged. This episode was a little bit more engaging than last week, but it’s only because stuff actually happened. I’m still not sure I enjoyed it.
Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 12fin - Despite the fact that I’ve been annoyed by the show the last couple of episodes, I’m still sad for it to end. It was a good reveal and First had the right response. Also a very sports way to end it. Sprite is a v clingy bf.
In brief?
A messy very Thai pulp sports romance that actually managed to involve sports in an identical twins trading-places plot. Basically Not Me meets HIStory 2 Crossing the Line (although vastly inferior to either) with an endearing main character and a good lead pair (poor things), both soapy and earnest without too much camp. It tried so hard but the plot, side couples, and extraneous characters let us down. Passable if not great. 7/10
Time the series (Thai Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - Eh. Whatever.
My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 22 of 24 - skipped this installment
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - Funny how quickly he retracted that confession and everyone called him out for doing it too soon (including me from a narrative beats perspective). It was a cute screw up - I see what your meta-arse is doing there, Japan. Also our Tokyo-boy’s serious reserved earnestness is extra adorable in the surrounded by Osaka enthusiasm context. His accidental flirting is that much more heart wrenching for our poor baby seme. And they ended this ep with honorific negotiations!! Be still my heart. I’m really adoring this show.
Your hyung romance super fan is back in the game!
Meanwhile the Osaka accent is beyond adorable.
Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - Japan what are you doing? I do love the not-sorta-ex from the past.
VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 10fin - I loved all the young people in the hawker center supporting the campaign against the terrible mother. They make a good domestically sappy couple. But that is Taiwan's specialty.
In brief?
A sweet if aimless story about a writer and a chef finding love via noodles, fake dating, and family challenges. If it had a tighter script and a shorter run, more like a KBL this might’ve been quite special. But it didn’t and it lost me too many times. 6/10
I don’t like to be disappointed by Taiwan.
It's done: I Need to Catch up
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.
The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam so I assume it's on YouTube. I never even noticed. Anyone?
Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - Is TRUST Entertainment bringing us the first ever Burmeses BL? I don't know if it's really the first, but @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch through.
It's Airing But...
[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.
Beside You (Thai YouTube) - a 3 sp short that's supposed to have started but I can't find it.
Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.
Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.
The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Ends next week. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.
7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.
Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?
In Case You Missed it
All my year-end round ups:
TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023
Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023
2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10
All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen
BL 2023's Best:
Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere
Cute Bits of Domesticity
Boys Feeding Boys
BOOP!
Best Cuddles
Heads in Laps
Touching Head Touches
Thailand Put His Head on Your Shoulder
Put Your Head on My Shoulder (not Thailand)
BEST KISSES (not Thailand)
BEST KISSES FROM THAILAND
Next Week Looks Like This
1/23 Happy Ending is a new high school set Strongberry 20 min short staring the actor who played Milk on Choco Milk Shake, so... YES PLEASE. I'm not sure where it will air but we all have our fingers crossed for Gaga or YT. Or both.
1/24 Love For Love's Sake (Korea Gaga & iQIYI)- based on the Manhwa ‘Love Supremacy Zone’ by Hwacha. A young man is dropped into a game based off a novel he loves. His mission is to make another player, YeoWoon happy. But then the game starts unfolding completely different from the novel.
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
Viva la BL grandma superiority! (Cooking Crush)
Cooking Crush casually givign us some lovely lesbians (as indeed did The Sign). GL makes for a lovely acessory BL, carry on.
Now GMMTV, give us the REVERSE.
I love this dork SO MUCH. (Pit Babe)
I love that Cherry Magic is doing this scene over. One of my favs from the original.
Yai is BEST BOY. MVP and most likely the winner for 2024's Namgoong award.
(Last week)
#the sign is the best#last twilight failed us#The Sign the series#cooking crush#offgun#thai bl#this week in bl#bl updates#Japanese BL#best bl 2023 round ups#Although I Love You and You#Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka#VIP only review#tainwaese bl#twins the series review#thai pulp#Pit Babe#began beginning#Burmese BL#BL from Myanmar
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come one, come all
there’s a fabulous magic show in town hosted by the two most famous magicians in fontaine. you unknowingly meet one of them—lyney, a man with a smile full of secrets—in a quiet bar in monstadt.
lyney x reader (pre-release)
there’s a curious man sitting next to you at the bar.
the tavern you frequent is located in a small village at the edge of monstadt, known to host the occasional traveler and adventurer, but none as peculiar as him. his clothes are clean and fashionable, and there’s a look on his face like he knows more secrets than you, has more tricks up his sleeve. moreover, what’s stranger is that he ordered only one drink and has yet to touch it, only observing it, faintly reminding you of a moth studying a flame.
“is something wrong with it?” the man breaks out of his hypnosis at your teasing question, and looks up in suprise. you explain, “i know the bartender, and he’s really great. if something’s the matter with your drink i know he’ll replace it.”
“oh, no,” he says dismissively. “it’s nothing like that. i was just interested in it—we don’t have this brand of wine where i’m from.”
“and where’s that?”
“fontaine,” he replies simply, and yes, now that he says it, you can hear the distinct accent.
“why are you in monstadt?”
“for the same reason everyone else is, i imagine,” he replies, taking a ginger sip from the glass. “for the show.”
ah, yes, the show. a magic show, famous in fontaine and most of teyvat for its impressive tricks and wonderous miracles. you’ve been hearing of it since the twin magicians announced their arrival to monstadt to entertain and wow the masses.
that’s why there are more than an abundance of travelers, adventurers, foreigners, in monstadt. some of them have tickets; many don’t. they hope the magicians will take pity on them and spirit a ticket to them in the middle of the night. or maybe they intend to steal one from actual holders. perphaps a bit of both.
“are you also going?” he presses.
you purse your lips and look down. “no, i’m not.” the tickets were too expensive and too difficult to get your hands on.
“did you want to?”
“of course i did,” you respond, the words coming out more bitter than you intended. it’s the closest thing to magic the world has to offer. tricks to make you forget it’s only an act; displays to dazzle even the most prudent of disbelievers. card tricks, doves from hats, sawing a lady in half and convincing the audience she’s actually been split in two.
of course you want to go. anyone in teyvet would, especially you, who comes from a small town in monstadt, who may never see anything like it again.
“i see,” is all the man says.
there’s an uncomfortable silence you feel obligated to break, and you ask after a second, forcing the lingering bitterness out of your tone, “are you going to watch?”
“yes,” he says, hesitating. “i am…going.”
“do you have a good seat?”
he smiles faintly.
“the best in the house.”
“i’m glad.” you swallow and stand up, placing down enough coins for you and the stranger. he watches you with veiled interest, especially the way you straighten up and conceal the frown creeping on your face.
“i should go,” you tell him. “i’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“yes, you do” he says faintly, agreeing with you. before you can opine on the strange statement, he smiles. “it was wonderful to meet you.”
you turn and leave, waving to the bartender wiping down the bar as you do. before you’re out the door, he calls, “i shall see you tomorrow!”
you pause and turn back around, intent on correcting the man, but he’s already gone—leaving nothing but a golden, shimmering ticket left in his wake.
•••
it’s a trick, a lie, a falsity. your subconscious screams at you that the piece of paper in your hand, that reads admit one in black inky letters, is a fake. it can’t be real—there’s no way.
yet you find yourself traveling to the shining capitol, with the ticket clutched in your hands. the wind begs to rip it away and the crowded streets tempts it to get lost and stolen, but you hold on tight, your grip only loosening when you hand it to the collectors at the front entrance.
they let you in without a second glance, and still in a state of disbelief, you find your seat, front row, center spot. best seat in the house. you look around for the man you saw last night but he is nowhere to be found, and a part of you wonders it he gave up your ticket for you. but that doesn’t make sense, you just met, it’s too peculiar, too much like a fairytale, a magic spell, come true.
your wandering thoughts are caged and tamed at the diming of the lights. you turn and face the center where a spotlight shines and a puff of smoke reveals two figures. the twin magicians. lyney and lynette.
the crowd errupts in applause, it’s the first trick of the evening, and you join in, until the smoke fades, and the magicians come into view. the sister with cat-like ears smiles adoringly at the crowd, and the brother does the same. but whereas lynette’s eyes are roaming, meeting as many fans as possible, lyney’s have yet to leave you.
at your shock and surprise, lyney dips his head slightly, and smiles, all too familiar from last night. turning back to the main crowd, he introduces himself and his sister, and announces to the crowd.
“come one, come all! we have a great show in store for you! magic will be casted, miracles with be had, and...” his eyes find yours again, and winking he continues, “hearts will be stolen, tonight.”
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#lyney#lyney x you#lyney headcanons#lyney headcanon#lyney x reader#genshin lyney#genshin impact lyney headcanons#lyney fluff#lyney imagines#lyney x y/n#genshin impact lyney
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