#if i start sleeping at rents it feels like im giving in but. i feel like im going crazy and asking for too much to be like. hey man.

[dogscircle]

damn living here really does suck

[xxfrankensteinsmonsterxx]

.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART II

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). explicit sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! here's the second part, finally. i had lots of fun writing this one, happy reading <3

part one

After staying at Cillian's for awhile, you decided to go to the place you had rented. The truth is, you didn't want to leave, but you had already extended your stay longer than planned, and you wanted to give him space with his kids. And you also wanted to give him time to process the event that took place four nights ago in his bathroom. Or you wanted to give yourself time to process it.

At this point, you weren't sure who needed the space more.

It was all very confusing because, yes, you've had feelings for him for God knows how long, but you've squashed them down like a stubborn bug for the sake of your friendship and, most importantly, his family. Those two things were always at the forefront of your mind, guiding every action and decision. But now that his family is no longer a factor and the two of you almost crossed a line, it's hard to ignore those feelings.

Those feelings that crawl up your spine every time he smiles at you or brushes against your hand accidentally. Those feelings also make you feel like the worst person in the world, as if you're betraying his ex-wife and their children by even entertaining the idea of something more with him.

It's all so delicate.

The cottage is nestled between rolling green hills and the glimmering blue of a distant sea. The place is like a warm embrace. The floors are laid with wide, honey-colored wooden planks, their surface worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, their rich, dark wood adding a sense of history and sturdiness to the space. The walls are painted in a soft, creamy white. The master bedroom is a haven of tranquility, with white linen curtains billowing softly in the breeze from the open window. The bed, with its wrought iron frame, is piled high with quilts and pillows in soft shades of blue and green. It's the best sleep you've had in months.

It rained earlier today. You've stayed inside all day, not wanting to venture out into the wet weather. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window was a soothing backdrop to your day, but it stopped around mid-afternoon, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Now you’re sitting at the rustic wooden table beneath the pergola, one leg tucked under you, grapevines overhead casting dappled shadows on the weathered wood. The garden around you is alive with color—wildflowers in every shade imaginable sway gently in the soft breeze, and the lavender and rosemary release their fragrant scent into the air.

Bon Iver’s voice drifts softly from your phone, which lies next to your notepad on the table. The music is haunting, its melancholy tones matching the weight in your chest. You’ve been here for hours, or maybe it’s only been minutes—time seems to blur together lately.

The notepad lies open beside you, filled with half-written lyrics, fragments of thoughts and emotions that you can’t quite bring yourself to finish. The pages are messy, scribbled lines crossed out, some words barely legible, as if your hand couldn’t keep up with the rush of thoughts.

You’ve been chasing this dream for so long—touring, recording, performing in front of thousands of people—but somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of why you started. The music that once brought you so much joy now feels like a burden; the words that once flowed effortlessly are now tangled up in doubt and frustration. The applause, the fame, the success—it’s all there, but it feels hollow. It feels lonely.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, but you’re too tired to move. You prop one leg up the chair and rest your chin on your hand. You focus on the water, trying to find some solace in its steady flow. But all you can feel is a deep, gnawing sense of unfulfillment, a yearning for something you can’t even name.

How pathetic.

You’re tired, so tired, and the dream that once seemed so bright now feels like a chore.

The door creaks open behind you, and you catch the faint sound of footsteps on the stone path. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. Cillian moves with a certain quietness, a soft presence that you’ve come to recognize. The footsteps grow closer until they stop just to your left.

"You should lock your door," he says, his voice low, carrying a hint of amusement but also concern.

You let out a small, tired laugh, not bothering to look up. "Didn’t think anyone would come by," you reply, your gaze still fixed on the stream; its gentle flow is the only thing that seems to make sense right now.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his shadow blending with yours. Then he pulls out the chair next to you, the wood scraping softly against the stone, and sits down. You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t press, just lets the silence settle around you both.

You hear him shift beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you see him glance down at the notepad on the table. His gaze lingers on the unfinished words, but he doesn’t say anything about them. Instead, he just leans back in his chair, looking out at the water with you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice softer, almost reflective. "I know that look. The one that says you’re miles away, stuck in your own head."

You don't respond, knowing that he understands you more than most people. The music on your phone shifts to another Bon Iver song, this time Beach Baby.

He continues. "You know, sometimes I think about all of it—this life, the fame, the roles I play. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I spend so much time being someone else, living in someone else’s skin, that it’s easy to forget who I am when the cameras stop rolling."

His words hang in the air, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, his blue eyes distant, like he’s lost in his own memories. "It’s like… sometimes, I feel more like myself when I’m acting, when I’m being someone else. That's what made me fall in love with it in the first place. I just loved being somebody else. It’s easier, somehow. But then there are those moments, when the lights go out, and I’m just… me. And that’s when the loneliness creeps in."

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. "It’s the same with music, I guess," you say quietly. "There’s this rush, this high, when you’re on stage, when everyone’s looking at you and you’re giving them everything you’ve got. But then it’s over, and you’re left with the silence, the emptiness. It’s like… who am I when it stops?"

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you can see the shared understanding in his eyes. It’s a strange comfort knowing that someone else gets it, that you’re not alone in this feeling of being lost.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the words you’ve been holding back suddenly becomes too heavy to keep inside. "I guess that's why I'm here. To escape. To escape the pressure, the expectations and…just be," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is a performance. Everything. When we're out in the world, we're expected to act a certain way, to fit into a mold. We have to edit ourselves. As honest as we try to be, there's always a part of us that remains hidden. And it's exhausting."

Cillian nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "And when you’re alone, you can let go of that and let your mind just be still," he says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s thought about this a lot. "It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it? But it’s also… terrifying. Being alone with your thoughts, with no distractions, no one to perform for. It’s like staring into a void sometimes."

You swallow hard, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. "Yeah, it is. But it’s also when I feel the most myself. When it’s just me, and I don’t have to be anything for anyone. Just… here, in the quiet, letting my mind rest."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The garden around you is alive with the soft sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the gentle murmur of the stream, the distant call of a bird. Bon Iver’s music still plays from your phone—Holocene.

You break the silence. "Sometimes I think about it. I think about letting go of it." It's a terrifying thought but also strangely liberating. You don't know what it means completely yet, but just saying it out loud brings relief. Cillian just looks at you, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

It was so easy, existing with him.

In this moment, you feel a little less lost, a little more understood. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, a mix of orange and pink hues, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

The next day dawns softer, brighter. You wake up with a sense of calm that had been missing for a while. There’s a lingering warmth from yesterday, the conversation with Cillian still playing in the back of your mind. As you sat at the same wooden table this morning, you found yourself scribbling lyrics that flowed easier, more naturally. They’re different—slower, more deliberate. There’s a depth to them that feels right, as if you’re finally tapping into something real, something honest.

Last night had ended quietly. After that heavy talk in the garden, Cillian stayed for dinner. The two of you kept the conversation light, avoiding the unspoken tension. It was there, hovering between you, but neither of you brought it up. Instead, you talked about mundane things and watched Punch-Drunk Love in the quaint living room. He pointed out every little detail he liked in it, and you listened, soaking in the emotion in his voice.

When the movie ended, he promised to see you the next day, and you reassured him it was fine, that you understood his absence. You meant it, even though a part of you always ached for more of his presence.

Today, with that newfound energy, you decided to venture out. An early morning walk turned into a drive to the nearby town. You pulled on a cap and sunglasses—a funny and somewhat ineffective disguise, but it was something. The town was charming, with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and a relaxed pace. Most people didn’t give you a second glance, and for that you were grateful. It was nice to blend in, to be just another person out enjoying the day.

You wandered through the market, admired the local crafts, and even picked up a few things—a handmade bracelet, a small painting of the Irish countryside. Lunch was at a cozy little café, tucked away from the main street. You ordered a hearty bowl of seafood chowder, rich and warming, with fresh bread on the side. As you sat there savoring the meal, your phone buzzed. It was Cillian, asking if you wanted to grab drinks tonight. You hesitated, your mind running through a dozen reasons to say no, but in the end, you agreed. You wanted to see him again, even if you couldn’t quite admit how much.

Back at the cottage, you took your time getting ready. You set the atmosphere, lighting a few candles, playing some soft music in the background. It felt good to take care of yourself and put a little effort into how you looked. You chose a pair of jeans that fit just right, a black top, and your favorite leather jacket. Casual but confident. A swipe of red lipstick added a touch of boldness.

You didn’t know where the night would take you, but you felt ready.

Cillian arrived right on time, his car rolling up the gravel drive just as you slipped on your jacket. When you stepped outside, he was already out of the car, leaning casually against the door. He smiled when he saw you—a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over your outfit with an appreciative glance.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, a hint of nerves bubbling up but quickly pushed aside.

The drive to the pub was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly. You talked about your day, the town, the little things you’d picked up. He told you about his new movie coming out later this year, based on a novella set in the mid-1980s in a small Irish village. There was a comfort in the exchange, in the way your words mingled with the sound of the tires on the road.

When he pulled up outside the pub, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was a small, unassuming place, the kind of spot that felt like a well-kept secret. The sign above the door was weathered, the windows glowing warmly from the inside. It looked cozy, inviting.

“Do I need to bring out my disguise?” you asked, amused, as you glanced at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re safe here. No one’s going to bother us. I’ve been coming here for years. They don't give a shit about me.”

He was right. The pub was perfect—dimly lit, with a mix of old and new music playing in the background. The crowd was relaxed, more interested in their conversations than in who might be sitting at the next table. You found two empty stools at the bar and settled in.

Close to the drinks. Perfect.

You ordered beers—the kind that tasted awful but somehow fit the atmosphere. Cillian took a sip of his beer, and the reaction was immediate. He groaned, his head falling back as if in defeat, eyes closed as he savored—or perhaps endured—the taste. The dim light from the pub’s old-fashioned fixtures cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that had begun to form. His lips, still wet from the beer, parted in a wry smile that spoke volumes of his disdain for the drink. His brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh as if the beer was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It was a dramatic performance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how absurdly handsome he looked even in that moment. There was something endearing about it—the way he could make something so ordinary seem so intense. His dark hair, slightly tousled, fell over his forehead, and you found yourself staring longer than you meant to.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes and giving you a side glance. His blue eyes sparkled with trouble, the corners crinkling as he caught the expression on your face. “You should’ve seen yourself, though. Looked like you were trying to swallow glass.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, please. You looked like you were about to keel over from one sip,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your voice.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the amusement in his eyes deepened. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted, taking another sip with a grimace. “Piss beer, this is. I’d almost prefer water.”

“Almost,” you teased, lifting your glass to take another drink. The foam clung to the rim as you sipped, and you made a point to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the bitterness spreading across your tongue.

Cillian leaned in a bit closer, his Irish accent growing thicker with each drink. “But then, what would we have to complain about, eh? I think the shite beer is half the charm of this place.” His voice was smoother, more relaxed, and you noticed the way his words seemed to roll off his tongue, rich with the lilting cadence of his heritage. It was endearing, undeniably so, and you found it increasingly hard to focus on anything else.

“Is that what they call charm here? I must’ve missed the memo,” you quipped, smirking as you met his gaze. The clever back-and-forth felt natural, easy, and it warmed you more than the alcohol ever could.

“You’re lucky I’m here to explain it to ya,” he said, leaning in just a bit more, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Otherwise, you might’ve gone your whole life without knowing the joys of terrible Irish beer.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll add it to the list of things you’ve taught me.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter, and you noticed how close he had gotten. His arm was now resting casually on the back of your seat, and every so often, your knees would brush, those accidental touches sending a small, electric thrill through you. The pub’s atmosphere, once filled with distant conversations and the clinking of glasses, now seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The world outside the booth blurred away, and all that was left was Cillian’s presence, the sound of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of him that mixed with the pub’s woody, earthy aroma.

The more you drank, the closer you both seemed to get, each sip loosening the barriers that had been in place. His laughter grew louder, more infectious, and his accent, more pronounced with every word, sent a shiver down your spine. It was more than just the alcohol—there was an ease between you that you hadn’t felt before, a sense of connection that went beyond the usual playful exchanges.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in even closer. “I think I’m starting to like this beer.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk, feeling a little more brave. “Is that so? Or is it just the company?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your ear as he replied, “Maybe a bit of both.”

A familiar flutter stirred in your chest—the undeniable pull that you’d been trying to ignore for days. But tonight, in this pub, with its terrible beer and terrible lighting, you decided you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not here, not with him.

You moved on to something stronger, whiskey that burned going down but left a warmth spreading through your chest that felt as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. With each sip, the edges of your nerves smoothed out, and you felt looser, braver, and a little sexier. You sat on the bar stool with your body angled slightly toward Cillian. The leather of your jacket creaked as you shifted, the red of your lipstick standing out against the dim light. You felt his gaze on you, not just looking, but really seeing you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck down to where your top dipped, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

His look was hungry, but it wasn’t just that—it was curious, intrigued. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours as he picked up his glass, watching you over the rim as he took a sip. The whiskey seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes, making them sharp and piercing, but there was softness there too, an openness that had grown.

“You know,” you began, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, and he leaned in a little closer, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah? That was… what, 7 years ago? At the Globes, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your drink, the liquid courage giving you the confidence to broach the subject. “Yeah, that’s right. And you… well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”

Cillian looked taken aback, a surprised smile curving his lips. “What? I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh, come on, Cill,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “You kind of hated me."

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I guess I had some preconceived notions about you."

“Preconceived notions?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

He hesitated, looking almost sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I thought you were this… I don’t know, shallow, self-absorbed person. Just someone who was there for the attention, you know?”

You let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over your heart in faux offense. “I’m wounded! I can’t believe you thought that about me, really.”

He chuckled, but there was a hint of regret in his voice as he added, “But I was wrong. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, leaning in a little closer, your voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “When exactly did you figure that out?”

“The first time we really talked,” he said, his voice equally soft, the words carrying a weight they hadn’t before. “After I saw you in the hall, crying. I don't know. You were so real, and I realized you weren’t what I thought. Not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Wow, so I had to have a full-on breakdown just to convince you I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed diva? Good to know, Cill. I’ll make sure to cry more often around you.”

He laughed, bringing his fingertips to his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not quite what I meant, but I guess it did the trick, didn’t it?”

You remembered that night vividly, how everything had seemed to spiral downward so quickly. “I was having the worst night,” you said laughing, a slight bitterness creeping into your tone as the memories resurfaced. “I’d just been dumped by the world’s biggest asshole that morning, and then there you were, tearing down everything I said with some esoteric joke.”

Cillian winced slightly, the regret more pronounced now. “Yeah… I wasn’t exactly charming, was I?”

“You were a bit of a jerk,” you admitted, but there was no malice in your words. “But you made up for it with that burger offer.”

A grin spread across his face as he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“Well, I figured a burger with you was better than sulking alone,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “And it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was exactly what I needed.”

His expression softened. “I’m glad I asked, then.”

The bartender interrupted your conversation to ask if you wanted another round, and without a second thought, you both nodded in agreement. It seemed neither of you were ready to call it a night. The place was warmer now. As you waited for your drinks, your eyes drifted to the ceiling. Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" played softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the low murmur of conversation.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that a few couples had begun to dance, swaying gently to the music. There was something so natural, so easy about it, that you couldn’t resist the urge that bubbled up inside you. Turning back to Cillian, who was taking a sip of his drink, you couldn’t help but smile. “Come on,” you said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Dance with me.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He muttered something in reply but you couldn’t quite make it out. It only made you more determined.

“I didn’t catch that,” you teased, leaning in closer as if trying to decipher his words. “But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, do you, piano woman?” he shot back, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “You’re going to say that you don’t dance.”

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right about that. I don’t.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “I know, but you’ll indulge me anyway.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he downed the rest of his drink in one go and set the glass back on the bar with a decisive thud. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you along with him.

It caught you by surprise, the suddenness of it, especially considering he had just insisted he wasn’t the dancing type. As he led you toward the makeshift dance floor, he leaned in and said with a grin, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laughed, a loud, genuine sound that felt as freeing as the night itself. “Oh, am I now?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, because otherwise, there’s no way I’d be making a fool of myself like this.”

You shot back with a playful, “Well, let’s see just how much of a fool you really are, then.”

As you reached the space where others were already swaying to the music, Cillian took your hand and pulled you in close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his frame as he moved with you, the two of you finding a rhythm that was surprisingly in sync. It wasn’t anything fancy—just simple, slow movements to match the easy tempo of the song—but it felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room.

Cillian leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Did you know I'm a failed musician?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“Failed, huh? So, what happened? Couldn’t hack it with the rest of us rockstars?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. "Something like that. I was in a band, actually."

You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You? In a band? Color me shocked.”

It was kind of hot, imagining him on stage with a guitar in hand.

"We even had a record deal and everything."

"What happened?"

Cillian’s expression softened as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. “My brother was still in school at the time, and my parents basically told me I could fuck up my life if I wanted, but I couldn’t take him down with me. So, it fell through.”

As you continued to sway together, the story of his past unraveled between you, each word carrying a hint of regret mixed with fond memories. “Those were great times, though,” he continued, his eyes distant as if he were seeing it all again. “I’d be out late, drinking, playing music in small pubs, thinking we were going to make it big. It was a bit of a rush, you know?”

You could imagine him there, young and reckless, with that same intensity in his eyes that he carried now, but wilder, untamed by the years. “So music was your first love, then?” you asked, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it was. I had been playing instruments since I was little. There’s something about it that just… gets into your blood. But then, acting came along."

“When exactly did you know that's what you wanted?” you asked, wanting to peel back more layers of him.

His smile turned almost bashful, as if recalling a secret he hadn’t shared in a while. “There was this guy who ran the Cork theater company—had a huge man crush on him. He was brilliant, and I ended up doing a workshop with him. After that, I just pestered him for an audition until he gave in.”

You chuckled softly at the thought of a young Cillian, determined and probably a bit of a nuisance, chasing after something he wanted so badly. “And that was it?”

“Well, there was a drama module in school when I was about 16, 17—during the transition year. That’s when I first got the bug. Ended up starring in A Clockwork Orange. It was sexy, dangerous, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I loved playing someone else, losing myself in the character.”

He paused, then flashed a self-deprecating grin. “There’s not much to look at, but if you give me a minute…"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his modesty. “You’re selling yourself short,” you teased, leaning in closer, your bodies moving in sync to the music. "Cill, you literally have an Oscar."

“Ah, the Oscar... just a glorified doorstop, really,” he quipped, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of humility.

"It's the work that matters, blah blah blah," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. His eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Exactly," he agreed, before pulling you into a twirl.

"Do you miss it? you ask, hands circling his neck as you sway. "Music, I mean."

Cillian blew out a slow breath, his eyes growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “Sometimes,” he admitted. "But life has a way of taking you where you need to be, not where you want to be.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and heavy, as you mulled them over. Is this where I need to be? The question echoed in your mind, reverberating through the deeper corners of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you had an answer. You were a successful artist, living the dream so many could only imagine, but there was always that lingering sense of something missing, a quiet ache that you couldn’t quite place.

Where do I need to be?

The thought spiraled, unfurling like an endless thread, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. You started questioning everything—your choices, your path, the very essence of who you were. Those words seemed to tap into something deep inside, a reservoir of doubts and desires that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost like you were talking to yourself more than to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, swaying slowly. See, this is the thing about Cillian, he had a way of making you feel seen and understood, even when you didn't fully understand yourself, even without saying a single word.

The warmth of Cillian's arm around you, the subtle way he moved—it all felt so natural, like this was where you were supposed to be. But then, the memory of four nights ago crept in—the way his breath had hitched as you said you weren't going to stop him from going further, the tension that crackled between you both like a live wire.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Heat flushed through your body, a dizzying sensation that made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you. A knot formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse.

The memory was like a current running through you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact with him. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Your mind was swirling with thoughts, the alcohol making you bolder, more aware of the things left unsaid.

"I can't stop thinking about what almost happened the other day."

“What almost happened?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, his lips dangerously nuzzled in your hair. “Don’t play coy with me, love. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body reacted to his nearness. “I’ve tried to stop thinking about it,” he continued, his voice a hushed murmur that only you could hear, “but I can’t.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. You wanted to let go of the restraint you’d been holding onto all night, but you were still aware of where you were, of the people around you—even if they weren’t paying you any attention. The thought of crossing that line, right here in the middle of the pub, was both thrilling and terrifying.

But Cillian, sensing your hesitation, didn’t push.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression serious but laced with that familiar smirk. “Wanna head out of here?” he asked, his voice low but with a note of urgency.

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it.

The night air hit you like a shock to the system as you stepped outside, the cool breeze carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The streets were quieter now, the lively noise of the pub fading into the background. You were drunk, the world tilting slightly with each step, and neither of you could drive.

Cillian pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the number for a cab. You watched him as he made the call, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he spoke, his voice low and calm despite the alcohol humming through his veins. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, even in this moment of mundane practicality.

“What about your car?” you asked, your words slightly slurred but still coherent.

He glanced over at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” he replied smoothly, his accent curling around the words in that familiar, endearing way. “Don’t worry, love.”

The cab arrived not long after, the headlights cutting through the night as it pulled up to the curb. Cillian opened the door for you, and the two of you slid into the backseat, sitting close together but not touching. Not yet. The space between you crackled with unspoken tension, the thrill of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself playing with your ring-clad fingers, the cool metal a small distraction as the silence stretched out between you. The driver turned up the music a bit, and the opening chords of Inhaler’s "Dublin in Ecstasy" filled the car. The song was somehow fitting, its pulsing beat and haunting lyrics adding to the electric atmosphere.

It started to rain, the droplets tapping against the windows and turning them foggy, adding a sense of intimacy to the small, enclosed space. The outside world became a blur of lights and shadows, the city fading away as the cab sped through the streets. You could feel Cillian’s gaze on you, the weight of it almost tangible as you sat there, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

You turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The music became more intoxicating, the beat syncing with the rapid thudding of your heart. He noticed you bopping your head slightly to the rhythm, and a small, surprised smile crossed his face.

“You know this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you replied with playful confidence, “I know every song ever made, actually.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so? A human jukebox, then?”

“Something like that,” you teased, the conversation light but charged with something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

The cab’s interior felt smaller, more suffocating as you neared your destination. When you finally arrived at his place, Cillian paid the driver, and the two of you got out, raising your jackets over your heads to shield from the rain, which had grown heavier. You both ran to the entrance, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night as you giggled like teenagers, the spontaneity of it all making you feel light, carefree.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, the sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air before he managed to unlock the door. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of the rain outside. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the faint glow of the night sky through the large windows. The shadows played across the walls, casting everything in a soft, almost ethereal light.

You tossed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, your clothes clinging to your skin from the rain. You could feel the fabric sticking to your body, the dampness making you shiver slightly, but the heat in the room—and the heat between the two of you—kept you from feeling cold. Cillian wandered off somewhere for a moment, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, the anticipation almost unbearable.

When he returned, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glint in his gaze that made your breath hitch. He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing as he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of something dangerous, “What should we do now?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and you felt a rush of heat flood through you, your pulse quickening. You moved toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, closing the gap until you were inches away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly despite the bravado in your words.

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down to remove a stray piece of hair stuck to your face. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of electricity through your skin, making you feel like you were on fire. His hand continued its path down your arm, and you followed it with your eyes, watching as his fingers traced the outline of your veins, the simple action making your breath catch in your throat.

He moved his hand up to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your top before slowly sliding it down, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of desire and something else—something that felt like shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too good, too right.

His hand slid up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful as he held you there, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. You clung to his black t-shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you tried to steady yourself, but the room seemed to spin around you, the intensity of the moment making you dizzy.

Cillian’s eyes bore into yours, his expression dark and filled with an unspoken promise as he whispered, his voice rough and filled with desire, “Tell me what you want.”

You wanted him—every part of him. You wanted to forget everything else, to lose yourself in this moment, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for days. And as his grip tightened slightly on your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath away from his, you knew there was no turning back.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

So he did. He kissed you, long and slow. His lips were soft yet urgent, and you melted into his touch. Your hands found their way to his damp hair, tangling in the strands as you deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. His breath mingled with yours, warm and laced with the faint taste of whiskey, his hands still cradling your face as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished.

But then the kiss deepened, the restraint unraveling as the need between you grew too powerful to contain. His hands slid from your face down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to consume you, to lose himself in you. You responded in kind, your own hands gripping his t-shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more. The heat between you intensified, the tenderness giving way to something hotter, something that felt like it had been a long time coming.

The rain continued to patter softly against the windows, a distant sound that seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed to just him—to the way his hands gripped your waist, to the way his breath hitched when you bit down softly on his lower lip.

You started moving backward, the need to feel him against you overwhelming any thought of where this might be going. Your feet stumbled slightly as you both moved toward the couch, the dim light from the windows casting your entwined shadows across the floor. He guided you, his hands firm and sure, but there was a tenderness in the way he led you, as if he was still holding back, still trying to keep a grasp on the control that was slipping away.

You reached the edge of the couch, and he paused for a moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath. “You're in control here,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the weight of the question, with the possibility of what was about to happen. "We stop whenever you want to, okay?"

Ever so polite, you thought. You answered him by pulling him down with you, your lips finding his again with a renewed urgency. The cushions gave way beneath you, the soft fabric enveloping you both as you sank into it. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you.

As the kiss deepened, became more frantic, more desperate, you could feel the tension in him—the barely restrained control he was struggling to maintain. His hands roamed over your body, landing on your jeans and slowly playing with the button, a silent request for permission.

"Don't stop now," you teased, your voice barely audible against his lips. He responded by deepening the kiss even further, his hands moving with purpose as he unbuttoned your jeans. He stopped for a moment, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his hands taking off your shoes before sliding your jeans down your legs. He positioned himself between your legs once again, kissing you rough this time.

The couch was vast and soft underneath you as one of his hands traveled up your thigh—still not as high as you wanted it. You let out a needy moan, encouraging him. When his fingers brushed against the edge of your already wet panties, you couldn't help but arch your back in anticipation. He pushed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. When his fingertips made contact with the wetness of your folds, he groaned too, in a way you found very satisfying.

"I've thought about this…a lot," he murmured, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp with pleasure. "What you might sound like. What you might taste like. What you might feel like."

He pulled away from you swiftly, and you moaned at the loss. He kneeled down in front of you, his gaze intense as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled down your panties. You went stiff, suddenly aware of how exposed you were. He opened your thighs a little more, as if he wanted to see more. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me taste you."

"Yes," you breathed out.

You couldn't stop looking at him as he pleasured you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each flick of his tongue and gentle bite made you arch your back in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He groaned in pleasure, and you opened your thighs wider. His tongue was thorough and deliberate, exploring every inch of you with precision. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, trying to ground yourself as you felt yourself spiraling into pure bliss. And just when you started to roll your hips, he slid two fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you gasp and moan uncontrollably.

It was too much. Pleasure consumed you as you arched your back violently against his touch and you moaned his name over and over again, letting go. You were drunk on him— his touch, his mouth, his scent—lost in the euphoria of the moment.

"Fuckin' incredible."

Well, yes, fucking incredible indeed. But not as incredible as it would feel to have him inside you completely, filling every inch of you. To reduce him to the whimpering mess he had just turned you into.

Before Cillian could do anything, you sat up and pushed him flat to the floor. You were both drunk and too eager to make it to the bedroom, so you might as well just do it right there on the living room rug.

He grunted in surprise, but his hands quickly found their way to your hips as you straddled him, pulling you closer. You removed your top, your breasts spilling out as you leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as you pull away from his mouth, pulling his black t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

He stopped breathing as you worked your way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and you eagerly slid them down his legs, revealing his growing arousal.

When your fingers wrapped around it—fuck—his skin felt hot and smooth against your touch, his breath hitching. You positioned yourself to take him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his desire as you licked a slow, teasing path along his cock. Cillian let out a ragged moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

You lifted your eyes. He had propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with his lips parted, pupils blown.

You had him.

You took him deeper, relishing the way he arched into your mouth, his groans spurring you on. With each flick of your tongue, you could feel him losing control, surrendering to the pleasure you were giving him. "Fuck, stop," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "I need to be inside you."

“Condom?” you asked, the question hanging in the thick air between you.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You hesitated for just a second. “I don’t mind… if you don’t.”

For a moment, he froze, his blue eyes darkening as they searched yours, as if to make sure he’d heard you right. Then, with a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, he nodded.

You released him with a smirk and sat up, swung over him. You positioned yourself so that his hands were on your hips, guiding you down onto him. The anticipation was electric, every nerve in your body alive with the need to be closer to him, to feel him, completely and without anything between you.

As you sank onto him, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a low moan escaping from both of you. The feeling of being filled by him sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire between you that burned hotter with each thrust. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you matched his rhythm, lost in the intensity of the moment.

This was going to end you.

His movements became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name. The room was filled with the sound of your mingled gasps and moans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. He felt so good, so right. His thrusts became more deep and harsh—you wanted even more. As if he read your mind, he sat up against the couch and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against your lips, both his hands grabbed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes, and you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and circling your hips in rhythm with his. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat between you both rising as your bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He was close—you were close. His hands roamed your back, your ass, and your breasts, and you threw your head back when his mouth found its way to your nipples.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Yes, oh—" you screamed as white-hot pleasure shot through your body, causing you both to reach the peak of ecstasy together. You felt his cock swell, filling you completely as he released with a guttural groan.

The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He had leaned back to the floor, and you had gone with him. He was rubbing your back, and your face was pressed to his chest.

"You okay, love?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You hummed, feeling content and safe in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. His fingers kept tracing those gentle patterns on your back, grounding you, reminding you that you were still here, still connected. The afterglow wrapped around you both, a warmth that made you feel safe, cherished. You could still feel him inside you.

“How bad would it be if we just stayed here?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the moment. There was a part of you that didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you could feel the rumble against your cheek. “Well, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m not sure how comfortable the floor will be in about twenty minutes, but I’d say it’s worth a try if you are.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Fair point,” you conceded, shifting slightly to look up at him. His eyes were warm, a little teasing, but there was an underlying tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands sliding down your sides as he carefully helped you up. “Let’s get cleaned up. I promise the bed is much more inviting.”

He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted, your legs feeling a little shaky as you stood, still a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the care in his touch.

Together, you made your way upstairs, his arm draped around your shoulders as he guided you toward his bedroom. The space was warm, cozy, with a lived-in feel that made it undeniably his. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of it before coming to find you.

He led you to the bathroom, where the soft glow of a single light illuminated the space. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before gesturing for you to step inside. You did, letting the hot water cascade over you, washing away the remnants of the night, though the memory of it clung to your skin. He joined you a moment later, his hands gentle as he helped you rinse off, his touch tender, almost reverent. You stood under the water together, letting the steam envelope you both.

When you were both clean, he handed you a towel, wrapping another around his waist. He left the bathroom for a moment and returned with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, offering them to you.

“Here,” he said with a soft smile. “This will do.”

You took the clothes, slipping them on. The fabric was soft, worn in, and it smelled like him—woodsy, with a hint of something earthy and warm. You found yourself breathing it in, the scent comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you were both dressed, he led you to the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. He held the blanket up for you, and you slid in next to him, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warmth of his body. He immediately pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist as you nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest once more.

The room was dark, but the faint light from outside filtered in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. You could hear the rain still pattering against the window, a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy between you. His hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining as he held you close, his breath warm against your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm, steady and reassuring, and it lulled you into a state of deep relaxation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You don't know for what exactly you were thanking him, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment.

He responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

You didn’t need to say anything more. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. You both knew that tonight had changed something between you, something profound and unnameable, but for now, it was enough to just be here, together.

a/n: there you have it, i hope you guys liked it!! please like, reblog and comment. i wanna hear your thoughts! and as always, thank you for the support <3

[kuroosdarling]

STORMY NIGHTS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. roomie!mattsun !

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. fem. reader, unprotected sex, praise, minimal prep tbh, oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight cervix fucking, creampie, light dose of aftercare — WC : 2.6k

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after you and matsukawa started your roommates with benefits situation, the two of you have been taking full advantage of it. but tonight, it’s a little different. as the storm rages on outside, you’re doing everything in your power to keep the one inside you at bay. at this point, it’s hard to say whether the thunderstorm or your ever growing feelings for matsukawa are scarier.

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : im insane for this man atp. roommate mattsun lives in my mind rent free sigh. anyway, i hope y’all enjoy this !! i have more ideas for this guy so stay tuned !! and thank u for reading <3

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

the room fills with a bright flash of light, washing over your walls and illuminating every dark corner. within a few seconds, thunder pierces the silence. you couldn’t help but try and bury yourself under the blankets. storms like these were the worst.

the ones that rudely declare its presence in the middle of the night, ripping away any chance at a good night's sleep. the deafening booms ensure a restless night filled with dread knowing that tomorrow will drag on with exhaustion. thunderstorms could be nice, but right now, it has you shrinking further and further into your bed.

another loud noise went off, but it wasn’t thunder this time. you bolt up in your bed, staring at mattsun who was standing dumbly in the doorway, his hand still lingering on the doorknob. it was clear he didn’t mean to bust it open like that, but the damage was done.

“do you mind?” you screech out the last word, your heart beating out at your chest.

“i promise i knocked.” he walked in, chuckling with his hand shoved deep into his pockets. he was wearing those stupid gray sweatpants again and if you weren’t so scared right now, your mind would’ve wandered to what happened the last time he wore those. he knew you liked them and wasn’t afraid to sport them around the house. constantly. “seriously, relax, i just came in to check on you.”

“by scaring the shit out of me?” you huff as he climbs into the bed next to you. you cross your arms at the ease of it all, trying to keep your breathing still. at least you could chalk it up to the thunderstorm making you nervous and not the fact that he was inching closer to you.

“that was an accident.” he rolls his eyes. “you know your door gets stuck.”

“yeah because you and makki tried to play jackass and totally fucked up the lock.” the thunder sounded off again but it was mixed with mattsuns laugh. you tried to focus on that sound instead, not realizing you were leaning into him.

“you got me there.” he gives you a lazy smile before looking around. he knew you were scared and were just trying to keep a brave face. “why don’t we go in the living room and watch a movie? we can bring out our blankets and stuff.”

“yeah-“ the thunder cut you off, the lightning flashes throughout the room, casting a fleeting light over mattsuns face. you look at each other for a moment, your eyes holding back so many words that your lips wish to say. but instead you cower from the loud noise and the weight of your own feelings.

“alright let’s go.” he throws the blanket over you like a cape, the warm fabric wrapping itself around you like a safety net. immediately, he’s picking up the rest of your pillows and blankets, waiting for you to walk out of the room first.

you lead the way, taking your time. he follows you out into the room, throwing the pillows down on the floor.

“hey!” you snap at him, hurrying your way over to pick them up.

“what? we’re gonna lay on the floor.” he said like it was obvious. your eyes trail from him to the couch before you roll them.

“alright, fine. go get your stuff then.” you start arranging the pillows and blankets to a makeshift bed. he goes to his room without another word, hurriedly grabbing his stuff before the next thunder sounds off.

he tosses the pillow against your head, causing you to stumble forward. you whirl around, glaring at him as he holds up the other pillow with a goofy grin.

“are you really trying to have a pillow fight with me right now?” you scoff.

“not much of a fight though, is it.” he shrugs, moving closer. your eyes widen as you scoop up the pillow, turning to whack him against the head. he starts laughing, utterly amused at your attempt. 

“shut up.” you sigh, as you move to sit down. mattsun looks panicked for a moment, so split that if you weren’t already looking at him you would’ve missed it. unbeknownst to you, mattsun was trying his best to distract you from the storm outside, trying to keep your attention on him. 

“alright let’s put on a movie, yeah?” he throws down his pillow next to you, it landing with a soft thud before he practically flops onto the mountain of blankets youre perched on.

“what are we gonna watch?” you ask, trying not to look at the raging storm outside and instead focus on the one brewing deep within his dark eyes.

as soon as he turned on the tv, it blew out. in fact, all the lights in the apartment went out. the slight ticking noise of the AC filtering out before thunder overpowered it, booming throughout the room, causing you to smush yourself further into mattsun’s side.

instantly, his arm is around you. “hey, it’s alright. let me light some candles.” he presses a soft, comforting kiss against your head before getting up, making sure the blanket is safely covering you in his absence.

luckily, you had candles stored all throughout the shared apartment. he carefully took them out as well as his trusty lighter. he went around the room lighting each one, racing against the storm. your eyes didn’t leave him. soon enough, the warm glow filled the otherwise dark space, doing its best to combat the bright flashes from outside.

“there.” he said, looking somewhat proud of his job well done before he turned to look at you, almost surprised to see your eyes already set on his. you sat up, the blanket falling off of your shoulders, pooling around your waist. he slinks over to you and sits down on the blankets, easing you down with him as you lay side by side. “it’ll pass soon, im sure of it. just focus on me, okay?”

“okay.” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. it was a miracle if he heard it at all. the thunder continued to roar outside and he felt you start to tremble in his arms. he looks at you again, slowly moving in to kiss you on the cheek. 

“focus on my lips,” he says, starting to place sloppy, opened mouthed kisses along your neck. your sleep shirt — or rather, his t shirt– slips down your shoulder, leaving it bare. mattsun wasted no time as he trailed down your neck, leaving more kisses along your exposed skin before making his way back up. 

and whatever he was doing — it was working. instead of focusing on the lightning bolts crashing down outside, all you could do was melt from the kisses he laid upon your skin.

his deft fingers find your chin, pulling you in closer so he can properly kiss you on the lips. he was always a good kisser, taking his time as if it would be a crime not to. molding his lips to yours, savoring each bit as you easily find your rhythm together.

even though the kiss wasn’t explicitly passionate, it still left you breathless all the same. each slow caress stole more oxygen from your lungs until you were practically gasping for air. but he didn’t let up, sliding his hand up your thigh as his lips press against your neck. 

thunder clashed overhead again, causing mattsun’s hold on your thigh to grow tighter, using it as leverage to pull you flush against him as his own legs slot between yours. 

“gonna prep you now.” he mumbles against your neck. his fingers grab a hold of your flimsy sleep shorts and pulls them all the way down, along with your underwear. you gasp out but he swallows it, consuming your air once again. 

“already so wet f’me.” he murmurs in your ear, his lips resting on your lobe. he quickly slips another finger in, pumping both of them quickly to try and stretch you out, relishing in the way you squirm under him.

once the small whine left your lips, he couldn’t hold back anymore. giving you one last peck and sliding down, placing a kiss on each of your thighs before his tongue began to tease your folds.

mattsun could lay between your legs for hours if you let him, taking his time to savor you, having you come undone around him again and again until your thighs trembled around his head. it was his salvation, the answer to his prayers, the fix he needed to get through the night.

but he didn’t have that much time tonight, not when you were in desperate need of distraction. your fingers tugged on his hair, causing him to groan out into your cunt. the vibrations sending you closer to the edge. it was too much — his hips stuttered against the blanketed floor, begging for some sort of relief.

“issei-“ you breathe out. mattsun curses the thunder for trying to eat up your sweet sounds, but he moves back up to you so he can press his lips against yours.

“yes?” he asks, slipping a finger past his waistband and sliding off his sweatpants so he can free his aching cock. he needs to feel you. your breath hitches as it nudges against your thighs, his cock already wantonly twitching the moment he comes into contact with you.

“please, i’m ready.” you squirm in his hold, reaching down to wrap your hand around him. he hisses out in pleasure, his forehead knocking down onto yours as he feels his whole body succumb to you, his craving for you becoming too irresistible.

“okay.” he lets you guide him to your entrance, his tip pressing against your clit and trying to soak up all the slick and spit on your messy cunt. his hand wraps around yours, using it to guide him into you quicker, slowly pushing in. 

the stretch always took a second to adjust to once he was fully seated in your warm cunt, buried at the hilt. his size was no easy feat to take, the overwhelmingly sweet pleasure always accompanied by the slight sting of pain. and he was always so patient, softly peppering your skin with kisses. but tonight, you were too impatient for all of that, desperate to feel him. so you start moving your hips, catching him by surprise.

“slow down.” he grips onto your hips tightly, stilling you in place so he could properly collect himself. you pout up at him, not thrilled about having to wait any longer but you humor him. “i’ll give you what you want, don’t you worry, pretty.”

“then get on with it.” you breathe out as he pulls out of you – his tip nestled back at your entrance. he can feel you clench around him, strategically pulsing in a silent command to hurry up. before he starts, he cages you in his arms, pushing back in and lazily moving his hips with shallow thrusts. a small teasing smile takes up his face at your attempt to be demanding.

“don’t get all bratty on me now, i was just getting started.” his hips start to move faster, his cock practically kissing your cervix. each of his thrusts blurring your thoughts together, your mind growing dizzy from the intense pleasure. he looks at you and chuckles, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head in amusement. “you just wanted to be fucked dumb on my cock, is that it?”

“n-no.” you say, turning your head away from him in slight shame. but he barely lets you as he cusps your chin and pulls your attention back onto him.

“you’re lying now?” the smile on his face turns dastardly and you can’t help but moan as he pulls you tighter to him. feeling him stretch you out, overpower your senses, brings you closer as you teeter on the edge.

the thunder roared outside, but you barely heard it as it melted away in the background. it causes you to jump a little bit but you’re secure in mattsuns arms, his hold tightening. his pace doesn’t relent, in fact, it only speeds up. a softer look graces his features as he remembers what he was trying to do – distract you.

the candlelight caresses his face, intimately wrapping itself around his skin in the way that had you envying the soft light. to be that close to him, to share that space, you wanted more. it’s all feels more soft, muted, like he’s really taking care of you.

you clench around him, causing him to groan as you squeeze his cock, barely letting him pull out. he could never keep his cool around you for too long. 

“you’re so fucking pretty. how’d i get so lucky, huh?” he pulls you in closer, pressing up against you as if the air between you two was intruding in your space.

every time his skin touched yours, something new planted itself in its place, running deep through your veins, directly to your heart. no matter how many times you tried to starve it, neglecting to nourish it — it continued to grow to the point you couldn’t bury it anymore.

you loved him.

and it terrified you.

but it also drew you closer to your edge. 

“sei-“ you call out, your fingers gripping the blanket as you arch your back, your chest pressing against his. you can feel your thighs tightening around his hips, his large hands cupping your backside as he practically lifts your bottom half up to meet his thrusts.

you’ve never felt him this deep, like his cock was lodged all the way up inside of you, piercing your heart. you could barely speak, just babbling his name and letting out mewls of pleasure.

he was fucking you dumb but not dumb enough, as those feelings you’ve been trying to hide slips through the cracks and your faced with the horror of loving him — or rather, the horror of possibly having your heartbroken by him. 

“getting close?” he grunts down at you, his voice raspy and streaked with desperation. you brave yourself to look up at him through half lidded eyes, barely able to open them up all the way. you can feel him twitch inside of you as he lets out a groan — teetering on his own edge but adamant to feel you come undone around him first.

“yes, so, so close-“ you cry as his fingers find your clit again, lightly brushing against it and causing you to spiral down, to a paradise or the depths of hell — you didn’t know. all you knew is that you wanted him to come with you as you clutch onto him, dragging him with you as he fills you up with his cum.

he falls to his elbows, careful not to put all of his weight onto you. he kisses you softly, even though he couldn’t catch his breath. he didn’t want to pull out just yet, but knew that he wanted to clean you up.

with one last kiss to your head, he slides out and hisses at the sting of overstimulation. sliding his pants back on, he quickly makes his way to the bathroom. he’s back in another second with a towel, carefully cleaning you up and sliding his shirt back over your head.

you lay there, letting him take care of you as your hazy mind starts coming to again, swirling with many questions that you decide to wait and face them in the morning. for now, it was just nice to soak up all the affection he was giving you.

“i’m gonna blow out the candles, okay?” he asks you softly. you nod, letting him to his thing before he comes back to you and cradles you close to him, getting settled for the night.

even though the thunder had long since died out, neither of you moved. too lost in the sanctuary of each other's arms, creating a warm, safe space where you could both let your guard down, even just a little bit.

mattsun kisses your head gently as you nuzzle further into him. the two of you drifting off into a peaceful sleep, comfortably wrapped up in the blankets and each other's unspoken love.

and in the morning, when makki awoke to see his best friends curled up together on the floor, he didn’t say anything. he just quietly smiled to himself and retreated back into his room.

[lokorum]

Your art so surreal, did you take inspiration from African masks it’s amazing. You have probably gotten this question before but what’s your process and how do plan these beautiful pieces out. I am a beginner artist and would like some advice on how start doing digital painting.

thank you for bringing me back from the dead with your kindness, (i was so sad today ughhhh i think watching vampire diaries starting to affect me hjkhjk), i really, really deeply thankful that you spend your time to write something so sweet (also sorry it took me literally ages to reply phphp THE USUAL)

yeah, in buryatia shamanism like the big thing, so when i went to search what's out there in the masks department - google's mess of the results for once was helpful and showed this massive collection of beautiful african masks. the one that was inspo for tiisha lived in my head rent free for weeks before the character was even born phphph now i cant even imagine her without it 

(here is little tiisha for you before i'll proceed to be not helpfull phphphph)

oof advices are not my strong side , like..........my process mostly is just sleep through the whole thing i guess..........................i very rarely do sketches, i hate study anatomy and perspective, drawing cubes makes me physically sick etc etc my approach to drawing were "fuck around and find out", always about chill and fun and barely ever about learning. imho thats why im so shitty at drawing simple things but not bad at coloring. so yeah, my biggest advice always and forever will be - be gentle to yourself, please

digital or traditional or whatever else is out there, dont forget you make it for yourself and for yourself only okay? it supposed to be fun, not sad tiring and competitive 

advices for digital specifically tho - very objective, apply with caution

learn all the keyboard shortcuts, ideally to press them without thinking 

explore more instruments than just brush. it will be tedious and sometimes feel like a chore so mb pick one victim once a month and browse youtube for a stuff like SECRET ULTIMATE TIPS ABOUT MAGIC WAND TOOL THAT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE (they indeed will save your life) 

check if your drawing program has artboards - turning it on will give you more freedom over canvas positioning  and your refs will always be there and not in the separate window 

idk about others but using auto tone, auto contrast and auto color often gives me well needed perspective on what im doing 

in 99% cases be sure that you can reanimate even the most messiest artpiece you ever did. working in digital gives you the chance to mess with shapes, colors and perspective at any time so if you dont want to gave up on something - you absolutely didnt have to

from time to time while you are still learning - go out there in the wilds and search for the new brushes. tweak with them if you want. i have like ~500 and i use 6 max, but those 6 i found by at some point trying to draw with all of the 500

MADE. BACK UPS. and i mean not like save layers just in case before merging them (tho that's too will help) no, i mean click SAVE AS once an hour and create A NEW FILE. PLEASE. i lost so much stuff to sudden power outage. its never pretty and you loosing will to work for days

watch at least one tutorial about the whole rgb srgb and cmyk thing - i did, understood not a thing, but at least im not playing dora the explorer with my colors after the export now 

uh idk think thats it? tried to think about those that id hope i knew when i started so hopefully something will help 

have fun with your drawings!! 

[cursingtoji]

🎙️ just saw your post asking about blog recs…step up to the stage bc i need some!!!!

BLOGS RECOMMENDATION <3

— mostly jjk, but also chainsaw man and aot

*taping the mic* okay here are my nominees with some fics recomendations as well

disclaimers!

lemme start saying so plot is everything to me, pwp can be hot but i'll hardly remember it afterwards, that being said here's some writers that can do both great plots and hot scenes.

also while digging i realize i wasn’t following some of those and if you noticed im sorry im dumb but i truly love your writing.

i tried to tag every active blog i could remember but it’s possible i forgot a few since i’ve been reading more jjk recently. if i forgot you im so sorry please don’t take offense.

many blogs i loved were deactivated, rest in piece great works they had.

everything i read i reblog under the tag #recs

@thekillingmoonmoon ofc moon is the first one i think when the topic "best writers" come up, i freaking love her and everything she does its not even fair to pick one thing so im picking 3, this super passionate toji work that i re-read at an alarming frequency (which btw i consider my own personal gift). yakuza choso and yuki aka the hottest duo ever. the cherry on top is her kishibe series (just realized i gotta catch up on)

@rinhaler - luxe is def on my top 3, she comes up with very organic scenes. even if it's a simple plot she can develop it so originally. I recently read her underground fighter!sukuna and i'm still thinking about it.

@laudthingcat has the best headcanons in the jjk fandom hands down, it’s the perfect dose of hot funny and cute, pick anything from her masterlist it’s guaranteed you’ll have a good time reading it. when you moan their name in your sleep in particular gives me butterflies

@meownotgood is obviously the best aki writer out there, you can see the love for aki in their words and how they write him so well and so into character. arrival in tokyo is truly a masterpiece, they also have a +100k words series i've been wanting to read for a while but i want to rewatch chainsaw man first hehe, i'm 100% sure is fire tho.

@kentoangel roma writes choso like she's in love with him and you can tell. shes always on my for you and even her snippets are *chefs kiss* special kudos to stepbrother!choso

@kentopedia i just realized i'm assigning a writer per character and nanami is definitely rylie's. the domestic lovely way she writes him makes me forget canon.

@tojisun another blog that is very often on my for you page. cannot talk about toji fics without bringing up sun, everything she writes about him has me furiously nodding. not to mention simon and konig, just talking about them makes me wanna run to her blog and binge read everything

@chocochipsushi 's bodyguard toji is unforgetable to me, i wish i lost my memory so i could read it all again for the first time. bodyguard toji is the definition of living rent free in my mind, whenever i have to deal with annoying coworkers i immediately think “bodyguard toji would not allow them to talk to me like that”

@suget one of the greatest geto writers for sure, they have so many geto works, i was going through their blog to find the one i read more recently and there was so many others i haven’t seen! another writer i could very easily spend a whole day binge reading. btw this cult leader one was recommended to me and i fell in love with it <3

@staryukis has the cutest gojo drabbles

@tonycries brooklin baby was recommended to me by moon and it had me by the neck! also they have many other works im hoping to read soon as well

@mommypieck isayama created reiner but they created subby reiner

@titan-fodder ‘s the tinniest notion The Best Reiner fic in all the existence of the universe (tw: stepcest kinda?)

@nanaslutt mma!toji made feel every emotion possible so intensely

[the-melancholic-human]

This shit was living in my drafts rent free, i had sent it to another author before but im going to share it again cuz it’s filthy hehe

(+18)

runway model reader x critic simon riley???

So he’s got a lot of money and he’s in urgent need of his cock being sucked by a pretty little thing,

So why not invest in fashion right?

He obviously won’t host shows himself, he just wants to lurk around in the most exquisite ones that are up when he’s forced to take a break. (price mentioned something about simon being overworked and blah blah blah)

But he is a pain in the ass to have on shows, he is fucking miserable, usually sitting on the front row seats and giving disgusted looks to the poor models that walk in front of him.

The thing is, when you have a shit ton of money, you get to have high standards, so he will rarely fuck one of the models after the show, obviously all of them being one night stands and nothing more.

And so picture this, he’s sitting there (manspreading hehe), watching a new collection with pretty models walking around but as always he is being a jerk,

He yells at the staff that bring him expensive champagne and water, smokes even though many people told him to stop cause the smoke bothers others and brutally comments about the collection in the designer’s face.

But then he spots “her”, there’s something about the way she sways her hips and bats her eyelashes that makes simon put his hand on his crotch to hide his boner as he takes a long smoke of his cigarette.

And he makes it his mission to find her after the show right then and there.

So after the show he’s stumbling around, probably has had way too much of the said expensive champagne, and he finds her standing somewhere, holding a glass of champagne talking to a bunch of strangers, simon thinks to himself how pathetic those guys look and he is nothing like them (he is)

And he goes up to her, looking strange as fuck and starts the most sketchy conversation ever, but the poor girl doesn’t notice the weird vibe he gives off, or maybe she does she just won’t mention it.

But do you know what? Simon doesn’t take her to an empty cold changing room to fuck that night, no no he wants her all to himself.

So he decides to show up to her shows after that, “accidentally” of course , and when she walks in, he practically undresses her with his eyes, his breathing slows down and his pants become uncomfortably tight.

So when he feels like it’s the right time, he mentions taking her back to his apartment and the moment he closes the door behind them, He is all over her, pushing her into the nearest surface with a loud and painful thud and pulls his pants down, immediately forcing his cock up her pussy

Listen, simon fucking hates himself, and when he gets to fuck pretty girls, for a moment he tricks himself into believing that he is actually desirable enough for those pretty girls to want him, but the aftertaste of those nights are so bitter, it makes him feel even worse, but this time he mighttt leave his number for the girl when he leaves while she’s sleeping

[tryingtofindava]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

THE UNREALISTIC VERSION FOR THE DELUSIONAL GIRLYS

: ̗̀➛Back to source

Most definitely broke into your apartment with full hostile intentions of ‘putting you to sleep.’

Lmao

That didn’t happen.

When he broke in, you were so chill about it. Like- most people would be screaming n’ crying right about now.

He almost got convinced that it was a normal thing for you, murderers breaking into your apartment.

You sprayed Febreze in his eyes and he left.

Anywho, he can’t explain the exact reason why he’s became so interested in you.

You were just different.

But like, not in the ‘IM SO DIFFERENT’ way.

But don’t be too glad he let you live.

Bcs I swear this mf be following you about. Picking apart your entire being to see if you’re worth sparing. Which you were!!

You two most definitely started out with just being friends, he’s living with you rent free basically.

You fell first, he fell harder sorta thing going on.

When you two actually started dating. He was obsessed with you. Literally.

You gave him a key to your apartment so he didn’t have to use the window anymore.

That didn’t stop him. He still just uses your bedroom window.

Don’t question him about it though, he’s odd.

Won’t ever admit it, but he LOVES when you play with his hair.

Speaking of hair, if you have a pony tail in. He will 100% pull on it. GENTLY OFC!! He only tugs your hair hard when you’re sucking his-

Anywho.

He also likes scaring you out of nowhere. So be careful when you think you’re alone, you’re probably not.

He makes it very, very clear that you’re his. Tbh he thinks he has some sorta ownership over you.

His mouth scars are like, so, so infected. Every time they start to heal again he recuts them. So the chances are he probably leaves you to clean them.

This edge lord is a ass guy.

Like he slaps your ass randomly and if you even show any signs of annoyance, it makes him feel like he’s accomplished smth.

He’s got a god complex, make what you want with that information.

If he catches you staring OMD HE’LL GET SO COCKY.

“Like what you see, doll?”

You’ll never hear the end of it.

He’s not a big fan and of going out during the day he’s a nighttime type of dude, or in overly crowded or noisy places since he’s easily irritated, so dates aren’t really on the table for him.

And he’s not very normal looking… at least he’s hot.

But he’ll get you stuff! (he probably stole it.)

But it’s the thought that counts…!

He likes listening to your heartbeat. He likes knowing you are alive. (Again, don’t ask he’s odd.)

Mf loves winding you up, teasing you, random light touches. Anything to get you going really.

But he’ll get so pissy if you do the same thing to him.

His skin is CRUSTY. teach him about the wonders of moisturiser. I beg you.

He will randomly get very emotional, comfort him. Or try to if he lets you get close to him.

One time you woke up to him just staring at you. That was pretty fucking creepy.

But not surprising.

I mean, this dude literally stalks you n’ shit. To make sure you’re okay :)

You give him the affection and validation he craves. He’ll do anything to make sure that you’re alright.

He can’t lose you.

Not yet.

He’s still a serial killer, so he probably ups and leaves for a few days and when he comes back he won’t tell you shit. (Even though it’s really painfully obvious what he’s been up to.)

The relationship is probably a bitty toxic. He’s probably gaslit you AT LEAST once or twice.

He’s an obsessive sadist.

When he wants something, he’s gonna get it.

The relationship is about him. Him and his needs.

He still loves you dearly. But not like the normal person. He has his… own ways of showing his love.

If you could even call it that.

But he’s not below killing you if he has to.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[loveandfictionforall]

Obsessed with BG3 and I just discovered your wonderful blog! If you’re down, could you please do headcanons for what a date night would look like for Wyll, Astarion, Karlach, and Laezal (I can’t spell her name from memory im sorry 😭)

Aww, you are just so cute! I will try my best, because oh boy, I don't like Lae'zel :D

Astarion

As a very morally grey character Astarion calls a lot of things fun.

He would start a bit more lightly, going out with you to eat something fancy. He will do his usual act, all smirk and suggestive comments until you were laughing, bantering and flirting with each other.

But that doesn't statisfy Astarion. He wants to be unique, because he is unique.

And he begins to lead you through the streets, with one destination in mind - a party for noble people, invites only. But when did this part ever stopped Astarion?

With his silver tongue, a roguish smile and a wink directed at you, he would charm the guards and soon you two could enter.

Absolutely out of place, you were sticking out like a sore thumb.

Soon enough some people were approaching you but Astarion quickly vanished out of sight as he noticed it, leaving you to deal with the mess while he watched in the shadows, observing how you handled it.

If you handled it well, Astarion would appear, lightly groveling and charming you because he now knew that you were capable and intersting enough to keep company with.

If you didn't handle it well? Well, Astarion would watch with a chuckle how the guards took you with them.

Wyll

Maybe you should rather go out with Wyll because he is a true charmer.

Wyll would be half an hour too early, after he prepared everything of course. He would even have some nicely picked flowers there for you, all of them searched and picked by him.

As soon as you would approach, he would give you the flowers, kissing lightly your hand and then blindfolding you to lead you to a beautiful meadow.

A picnic in the dark, in a magical place and with candels everywhere? Exactly. Wyll would lead you to the fluffy blanket, giving you a glass full of wine and gently offering you some fruity sweets.

You two were talking for hours, shoulders lightly brushing against each other, fingers sometimes grazing while reaching for the same thing.

And as the night progressed, Wyll would slowly inch in your direction, so sublte you wouldn't notice it at first.

His body warmth would keep you from getting cool while you two were sitting there the whole night until the first sun beams tickled your nose.

Karlach

A date with Karlach would begin with going to a party.

She loves alcohol and the good mood a party brings.

With good movements she would tease you until you finally joined her on the dance floor and you two wouldn't stop until your feet were hurting so much you couldn't stand up anymore.

Before you would be able to react, she would pull you on her lap or sit down on your lap, whichever you more prefer. Either way, she would lightly massage your shoulders, enjoying the feel of being able to touch you.

After some time you two would leave. Karlach would lead you to a nice, cozy inn, renting a room for you but don't worry, nothing would happen if you were too drunk.

Instead Karlach would rather wrap her arms around you, tugging you close to her while she slowly drew lines with her fingers. She would ask a lot of questions, maybe even a kiss or two would happen but if it did, it would lead to a full blown makeout scene.

Lae'zel

Lae'zel would never call it a date, since Githyanki are very forward and no nonsense. She would rather call it, that you two were preparing for another battle.

She would traing with you, attacking you fiercely and without hesitation. If you are able to keep up with her, she would approve more and more until Lae'zel would straight up kiss you and ask to sleep together.

There would not be much romance but if you did good in any way on any topic, she would appear every so often and request a strict training with you which would lead to sex.

Caring is not really in her nature but sometimes she shows some rare kinds of caring when she wraps a wound of you.

Nevertheless, her missions and her race is the most important thing for her and will always have her priority.

[saturn-lia]

~Sick or on period s/o HCS 💊

Character: Just Jiyan for the moment

Content: headcanons, soft, Jiyan just can't help but cuddle you even if it means getting sick too ❤️

Jiyan who was once a doctor before becoming a general (and his entire family works in that field) would know exactly what to do in any case

Jiyan who just by looking at you can tell that night you’re going to get sick (turns out he was right)…

Jiyan who when he sees you lying on the sofa, already has a thermometer and some painkillers in his hand

Jiyan who even before you tell him that your stomach hurts, has already brought you something warm to put on it

Jiyan who starts giving you massages without even asking

Jiyan who already knows everything about what you need: pads, chocolate and even flowers!!!!

Jiyan who waits for you to fall asleep to carry you to bed and leave a kiss on your forehead before lying down next to you

Jiyan who doesn't care if you have a fever or just your period, will stick to you all the time because he loves taking care of you, and if he gets sick too it would mean staying home sick with you

Y/n: "Don't come any closer, I don't want you to get sick" You try to push him out of bed but he doesn't move an inch. Jiyan: "enough. If you continue like this you will never recover. Close your eyes and sleep, it's an order" He says putting an arm around your shoulders holding you closer to his chest.

Jiyan who doesn't admit that he finds you extremely beautiful when you're sick so he finds himself having to justify his blushing… even though you know the truth.

Y/n: "oh no are you getting sick too?" you tell him noticing the blush on his face and his gaze fixed on you as if he was lost in his thoughts Jiyan:"..." Y/n: "Jiyan? You there?" Jiyan: "Mh? Did you say something love?" Y/n: "…you seem very healthy to me, so why are you blushing? " You ask amused. Jiyan quickly looks away and lets his gaze wander around the room in search of an excuse. Jiyan: "uhm... it's hot in here, let me open the window"

Jiyan who asks for days off without telling you only and exclusively when you are sick because you need him to take care of you

y/n: "why are you not at work?" Jiyan: "they don't need me today" y/n: "Haven't they needed their general for the last five days?" Jiyan: "...this doesn't concern you, focus on resting" y/n: "You're gonna get in trouble..."

Jiyan who can't sleep when you happen to be this sick because, who knows, maybe you might wake up in the night and he MUST be there for you

Jiyan who showers you with compliments when you have mental breakdowns due to tiredness, because you are his everything and if you are feeling bad then he will be your shoulder to cry on.

Jiyan who when you finally get better surprises you with a dinner out… and a gift in the bedroom later.

Jiyan who caught a cold the next day...

Today I feel like writing so here's some fluff for you.

+ Jiyan has been living in my head rent free for two weeks now, expect some smut/suggestions about him in the next few days, Im warning yall.

Lia

[gamerwoo]

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Sixteen)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, angst but not as angsty as it's been lmao, humor, implied reader has a rough relationship w her mom, mentions of porn and sex work (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 3,386

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

Previous | Next | Series Masterlist

Minho 😻🤢: soooo packing???

Minho 😻🤢: when??????

Seungmin 👹😌: i literally forgot we were even supposed to help with that lmao

Jisung 😐: did they not give you a notice yet??

Jisung 😐: actually what’s the time frame for that like when do you have to be out?

_____: i assumed they would’ve given me one already letting me know i have to be out by the end of the month but they haven’t

_____: i don’t wanna pack and then have like more time to stay here and im just living out of boxes tho ://

Christopher 🦘🧡: could you try asking the front desk?

Christopher 🦘🧡: honestly Felix hasn’t even mentioned you getting evicted

Minho 😻🤢: why would he randomly bring that up to you that’s so depressing

Christopher 🦘🧡: he asks about her. they’re friends

Christopher 🦘🧡: he’d probably want to know if i know where she’s staying

Seungmin 👹😌: can’t wait to kick out jisung!!!!! 🤗

Jisung 😐: i’ll sleep in your bathtub idc

Minho 😻🤢: he’ll live in the walls like the rat he is

Seungmin 👹😌: i’m gonna set traps

Seungmin 👹😌: if anyone hears a snap lmk

_____: let’s not kill jisung i kinda like him

Minho 😻🤢: EW

Minho 😻🤢: 🤮🤮🤮

Jisung 😐: YAAAAAAAAA !!!!!

Seungmin 👹😌: we’re kicking _____ back out actually

_____: no ur not bc im going to ask about my eviction notice and if i have to move back in with my mom i will start crying actually :’)

Seungmin 👹😌: yeah fuck that

Christopher 🦘🧡: we would never do that to you

Minho 😻🤢: absolutely not

Jisung 😐: i’m gathering we hate _____’s mom

Jisung 😐: yeah fuck ur mom we hate that bitch !!!!

You ignored the rest of the buzzing and put your phone in your pocket before venturing out of the apartment and going downstairs to the front desk. For the most part, you hadn’t really left your apartment – partly out of fear of running into Hyunjin, and partly because you didn’t have a reason to now that you didn’t have a job. Your friends had stopped by here and there – usually Jisung – to hang out but other than that, you didn’t really have much human interaction since the conversation in the hallway with your now ex-boss and Hyunjin.

You felt a little awkward as you stood in the elevator, thinking about how you had to ask about your eviction but you needed the information sooner rather than later so you could plan accordingly. You just didn’t want to feel judged. Everyone who worked at The Brooke knew you weren’t paying your own rent, so they would know you had gotten fired. It was embarrassing, but you needed the information.

As soon as the elevator doors opened to the lobby, your eyes widened and your heart jumped in your throat. You genuinely considered mashing the button to close the doors even though you knew that wouldn’t have been fast enough to stop the man waiting for the elevator from entering.

But to your surprise, he didn’t enter. Instead, he smiled softly and said, “Oh! Just who I was looking for.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Changbin reached out and held onto the side of the doors to keep them from closing again, chuckling, “Are you getting out or are you just going for a ride?”

You felt your cheeks get warm as you slid out of the elevator, trying to stay as far away from his body as possible. But you stayed near him once you left because apparently he was looking for you and not his best friend.

Why the fuck would Hyunjin’s best friend want to talk to you? Didn’t he know what Hyunjin did? Wouldn’t he know you’d want nothing to do with anything Hyunjin related?

“I know this is probably really strange to you,” Changbin began, stuffing his hands back into his pockets like they were while he was waiting for the elevator, “but I was wondering if maybe we could talk? I’ll buy you a coffee or whatever you want.”

-

As always, your inability to say no to people cursed you again. So you found yourself at a boujee café, sitting across from Changbin at a small table as you played with the straw in your iced drink to stare at the way the ice moved instead of making eye contact with Changbin. It was already awkward considering he was one of Hyunjin’s best friends, but on top of that, you’d never been alone with Changbin before. You were feeling all sorts of uncomfortable.

“I know you’re probably really confused. I mean, Hyunjin’s best friend asked to take you out to talk,” he chuckled. “I know you’re probably assuming I want to, like, yell at you or convince you to talk to him or whatever, right? …In all honesty, I really just wanted to hear your side of things.”

You glanced up at him, your movements with your straw stopping, “He didn’t tell you what happened?”

“No, he did. But you and I both know that sometimes he’s dramatic. That’s not to say his feelings aren’t valid, but I have a feeling that maybe there was some sort of…miscommunication for lack of a better word.”

You still weren’t buying it, furrowing your eyebrows. It didn’t matter how genuine and kind Changbin seemed when he spoke to you. 

“You’re his best friend, though. You’ll take his side.”

“Being his best friend doesn’t mean I have to blindly take his side. Like I said, Hyunjin can be dramatic sometimes, and he’s rarely dated since starting in that business. Something he never got to learn is how badly proper communication is needed in relationships when working in that industry because then shit like this happens. Plus, Kitty and I have both met you and I feel like the chances that you were using him for good sex are pretty slim. Again, not trying to invalidate how he feels. He is really upset, but I know you are, too. I just want to get to the bottom of this.”

“And do what?” you asked. “What happens when you have both sides?”

He shrugged, “That’s up to you, I guess. I could either help you fix things, or I could get you closure. Or I could just fuck off and you never have to hear from any of us again. Up to you. But really, what do you have to lose in venting to me?”

“You could tell Hyunjin everything I say.”

He chuckled, “That’s kind of the plan. He needs some perspective. He’s too upset to think straight.”

There were two ways you figured he could go about telling Hyunjin: either talk shit about you and what you said with Hyunjin and Kit later and act like you were full of bullshit, or just tell him the gist of what you’d said from your view and maybe make him feel bad. Or the latter, but it wouldn’t change anything Hyunjin thought because he was heartless and used you.

No matter how you spun it, there wasn’t much to lose. For the former: Hyunjin already hated you. For the middle: you wanted him to feel like shit and know that he hurt you. For the latter: it didn’t matter anyway.

Your toxic trait of hoping Hyunjin would feel like shit knowing how he made you feel won, so you ultimately broke.

You started with him showing up at the house to bring you lunch, which Changbin was already aware of. But that was all he told you, and then he let you keep talking. You said how he suddenly wanted to take things slow out of nowhere, saying all these things that just seemed like he didn’t want the relationship to go anywhere. He liked how things were, but all things were, were just physically intimate. Sure, he acted like a boyfriend but he apparently didn’t want the title. It made it seem like he wanted to try and fuck you but without any of the strings. It made it seem like you were just someone for him to corrupt because he was into that, but when you wanted more than just learning new things in the bedroom, he wanted to put the brakes on. It was suspicious, and even Changbin agreed it came off that way.

Then you mentioned how Jisung had blurted the whole porn star thing. You had no idea until Jisung was face-to-face with Hyunjin and recognized him, and he just said it without realizing you had no idea. You were confused as to who Jin was and didn’t know until, again, Jisung accidentally elaborated. Come to find out all your friends knew and wanted to keep it a secret because not only did they think it was up to Hyunjin to tell you, but they didn’t want to tell you and potentially put a strain on a relationship that you were already so happy about.

“Sounds like your friends need to start telling Jisung things more,” Changbin chuckled, but that was really all he had to say about that.

Then Hyunjin dumped you out of nowhere. You kind of saw it coming considering he said he wanted to take things slow, and that gave you a bad feeling anyway. But he did it without any explanation. Everything was vague and, again, made it seem like he was using you. Saying he wasn’t the right guy for you and didn’t want to string you along anymore.

Changbin just sighed and nodded, looking down at his drink, “Yeah, he kind sucks with words sometimes…”

You told him how you stayed with Chan for a while. You called out of work and went back to your old place to avoid being alone and also any chance of seeing Hyunjin. You definitely weren’t doing great considering this was your first major relationship even if there was no title to it, but you experienced the most serious firsts with Hyunjin, so naturally, you were taking things hard. Changbin seemed to get that. 

There wasn’t much to talk about other than you sulking over him even though you felt like you shouldn’t because he used you – Changbin had yet to confirm or deny that theory, though. He mostly just listened and gave minimal input – none of it having to do with Hyunjin. 

Then you got to Friday night where Hyunjin accused you of knowing he was a porn star the whole time and just using him to lose your virginity in the most perfect way possible.

“I know I said what I said, and I think he heard it,” you explained, “but I was honestly just trying to say something to stop crying about the situation.”

You gave a sad laugh and shook your head, looking around the coffee shop to avoid looking in Changbin’s eyes for too long. It wasn’t like he was studying you or scrutinizing you. He was just watching with soft eyes, letting you know he was listening as he nodded or hummed occasionally. But it was still too much to consistently look at him when you spoke.

“It was mostly just a coping mechanism more than anything. It was all just a joke, but he obviously didn’t hear it in that context. So he knocked on the door and called me out, but I was too drunk and taken off-guard to even remember what was said before he showed up. I wouldn’t have even considered that he would’ve heard the conversation. So because I didn’t have an explanation, it definitely seemed like I meant what I said and just didn’t want to own up to it. So…he…called me…-”

“I know what he called you,” Changbin cut you off, seeing you were uncomfortable repeating the insult. “You don’t have to repeat it.”

“Yeah…” you nodded awkwardly before taking in a deep breath. “Anyway, he said that and left. And then a couple days later, one of my bosses – er, ex-bosses – showed up.”

Changbin seemed surprised that you said ‘ex-boss’ but he didn’t say anything and let you continue talking.

You told him about the conversation with Mrs. Park and how you originally wanted to get an apartment on a different floor, but how she had started talking poorly about sex workers and you didn’t stand for it. 

“So you stood up for him?” he asked.

You shrugged, “I guess. Just because he was shitty to me doesn’t mean I’d use him being an ex-porn star as ammo. I’m low enough to let Minho say he has a small dick if he wants to but I’m not gonna say he’s subhuman or something.”

Changbin also seemed surprised by this, but again, stayed silent. Only nodded slowly and let you continue.

You told him how Hyunjin was listening in again and told you not to quit because of him, but you were saying it wasn’t because of him and it was because of your own morals. You explained how you didn’t want to work directly under someone so close-minded, and you reminded Hyunjin you weren’t dating anyway so it didn’t matter.

“And…yeah,” you breathed. “That’s basically it.”

Changbin nodded silently for a moment longer before he finally broke out into a chuckle, shaking his head, “Jesus Christ, this all makes so much more sense now.”

“What does that mean?” you wondered.

“It means…” he hesitated for a second, choosing his words as he looked down at his drink before meeting your eyes again, “I’m hoping you’ll talk to him. I’m not going to persuade you to or anything, but I’ll say that if you’re interested in attempting to fix things with him, I’d be willing to set something up. And you don’t have to answer right now or even today. Just let me know whenever.”

Part of you still wanted Hyunjin. You wanted him to want you and you wanted to still think he was the perfect person that you had thought before he said he wanted to take things slow out of nowhere. But the other part of you hated him because you knew he wasn’t perfect. You felt used and betrayed, and you were still hurt. Part of you still didn’t want to see him at all.

But since you didn’t have to give him an answer either way yet, you just nodded and said, “Okay.”

-

Changbin walked back with you to The Brooke. Not only because he wanted to be a gentleman and make sure you got home safe, he told you, but also because Felix apparently had brownies waiting for him.

“I promised Kit and Hyun I’d pick ‘em up,” he explained.

So he went back inside with you, going up to the front desk. You still needed your eviction information, after all.

Felix seemed to be working the desk while Jihoon was standing off toward the side at one of the computers, teaching Hanni something. Ten stood off to the left gathering someone’s luggage onto a cart, but the person was nowhere to be seen. They had probably already gone up to their room. So it was you, Changbin, Ten, Felix, Jihoon, and Hanni in the lobby together.

Felix seemed confused watching you and Changbin approach the desk together, “Is everything–?”

“I’m here for the brownies,” Changbin quickly cut him off. “Kitty had another shoot today so she’s really looking forward to them.”

Felix reached under the desk and pulled out a clear tupperware, placing them on the counter and sliding them over to Changbin with a smile, “Hope she’s feeling alright after.”

“These’ll fix her right up,” Changbin promised with a smile of his own.

As Changbin took the brownies, Felix turned to you and asked in a quiet voice, “How’ve you been doing, by the way? You feeling alright?”

“You found out he’s a sex demon, huh?” Ten grinned evilly from the corner before you could even answer Felix.

You just stared at him, “Huh?”

Changbin rolled his eyes and muttered to you, “Just ignore him. We all try to.”

You looked back to Felix and took a deep breath, placing your arms across each other on the counter, “Actually, I wanted to ask if you had my eviction notice?”

Felix’s eyes went wide, “Your what?”

“I kinda quit my job, and they were paying for the apartment and everything, and I can’t really afford to stay here, so… Yeah, that kinda means eviction, and I need to know when I have to be out by so I can pack. I didn’t really want to pack and then live out of boxes for however long, y’know?”

Suddenly, Felix’s demeanor shifted. He licked his lips and shifted his weight, eyes glancing toward Changbin and then down at the counter, “Um, I don’t think I know anything about that… Yeah, nobody told me anything about an eviction, so…yeah.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Why do I feel like you do know about it?”

Obviously hearing the conversation, Jihoon stepped away from Hanni’s side to come over and help, “_____, you’re in 805, correct?”

“Yup,” you nodded.

“Your payment was switched over.”

Your eyes widened and your brows furrowed. Payment switched? How? When? Why?

“To who?” you asked. “Who the hell is affording that? I swear to god, if this was Christopher…”

“They did actually ask to stay anonymous,” Jihoon informed you. “I can’t confirm or deny who it was. I’m sorry. But it does mean that there will be no eviction notice.”

“I know you think that’s good news, but I’m actually more stressed now,” you admitted with a slightly annoyed laugh. “Please, can’t you tell me who it is? I mean, it’s my apartment. I deserve to know who’s paying my rent. It’s actually kind of uncomfortable living somewhere where someone else is paying for it and I don’t even know who it is.”

“Since there hasn’t really been any sort of situation like this before, there’s no policy in place stating we have to give you that information,” he explained as politely as he could. “I know it’s probably confusing for you, but–”

“I found it!”

All eyes went to Hanni from where she stood at the computer, proudly smiling, “The bill goes to Mr. Hwang Hyunjin in room 806!”

Felix slapped his forehead, Jihoon let out a groan as he dropped his head, and Ten started giggling wildly in the back. Clearly, she wasn’t listening while Jihoon was explaining that there was no policy in place that they had to tell you, but you were kind of glad the new girl wasn’t paying attention.

“You weren’t supposed to tell her,” Jihoon sighed, clearly trying to keep some sort of patience with Hanni.

Her face quickly fell, realizing her mistake, “I just wanted to prove I could use the computer…”

You couldn’t even focus on her getting punished for her mistake, though.

“What?” you asked sharply.

Felix looked to Changbin for help, but Changbin was lost.

You glared between the pair, “Did you know about this?”

Changbin held his hands up in surrender, “I’m just finding out about it. I’m just as shocked as you are, honestly.”

Felix, however, looked away as the tips of his ears turned red, “M-maybe I kinda knew… But in my defense, I just work here.”

You took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, trying to calm down. After you let it out through your nose, you looked to Felix and asked, “Can I have a pen and some paper?”

Felix quickly grabbed a pen from the desk and searched for a pad of lined paper. When he found it, he handed both to you, and the two boys watched as you quickly scribbled down something. Then you tore the paper away, folded it up, and handed it to Changbin.

“Can you give this to him,” you asked.

“Will do,” he promised, taking it from you and keeping it in his hand.

Without another word, you stormed away from the front desk and over to the elevators, leaving Changbin and Felix to look at each other. While Felix looked scared, Changbin seemed relatively neutral. Felix was worried that the relationship had no shot at being fixed, while Changbin had already accepted that whatever happened, happened.

Felix eyed the note, “Are you gonna look at it?”

“Nope,” he replied. “I’m just gonna give it to him and see what happens.”

————✧♡✧————-

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[freefolkfightorflight]

Things I’m doing instead of cleaning

Why does it take me months to clean and put away laundry why am I like this why 🥺I’m not even talking deep clean. I’m talking the basics of straightening. Living in such a small space with kids is fucking hard yall. It’s so hard. Part of it is I’m fucking tired and therefore lazy. Part is I feel stressed and angry at how messy my kids are and I just avoid addressing it while they’re here so I don’t lose my cool and yell. (And almost everyday I don’t have them I’m working or recovering from working 14 hour shifts). And then there’s the fact that this place is infested so there’s no “if I clean there won’t be bugs” bc I spent a year of spotless house with all the bugs and it’s fucking depressing. Im deadly afraid of roaches but I’ve desensitized my self enough to where I can kill one behind my kids back with my bare hands just to avoid scaring them. 😳🤮(bc they don’t love them either)

I silently and calmly killed a wolf spider the size of my palm with my bare hand in the bathtub yesterday while Molly was about to shower bc I didn’t want her to freak the fuck out too. Living in the country has its downsides I guess.

Re court. I need to win. I need to get the fuck out of this or gut it and start over (which I’m renting so lol I can’t but I could do something better with like a little spending money as far as organizing tools/dressers shelves etc🤦🏻‍♀️)

Part of my lease agreement is/was? mowing like 10 acres. Well the landlord recently said I need to look at buying my own mower this coming year. LOL. I currently use one of his 2 zero turn commercial ($20k) mowers…bc that’s what he said originally. Because one time in 2 fucking years I accidentally ran over a hose and he had to remove it…everything was fine…... I’m just gonna not. It’s not in said lease. Said lease is also not valid since like a year ago…bc he never made a new one for me to sign. I figure if and when he asks me to leave (if it’s before I can feasibly leave on my own) I’m just gonna middle finger and let him go to the courts to get me out bc fuck him and his judgmental racist self. That should give me like 8/9 months right?

My kids still take turns sleeping with me. Because they want to. My girl is super cuddly. My boy has stopped w cuddling but still likes being near. It was his turn last night. When he got up this morning Molly immediately jumped into bed curled around me and said “my mama” like she did as a baby and my heart melted. This is why I don’t clean while they’re here rn. I don’t have the patience to do it calmly(lately) and top tier requirement for me is to make my home a safe space emotionally (and physically) for my kids.

I’m rambling bc hey I’m still avoiding cleaning. I need a friend. Someone to come over and just chat w me while I do this. But I have one friend and she only comes over like 1-3 times a year. I usually go see her bc she lives in a “mansion” with a craft room and I’m already out driving kids to school anyways.

Anyone wanna call and chat? Or text? Pm me if so. I’m US based. No it won’t be sexual. Just friendly chit chat

[skeletoninthemelonland]

First of all, so so sorry your situation. Im in a similar one actually so I really hope you're okay. Even though it's not dire, mine isn't either, it's very draining and can be super overwhelming since you dont have the support of your parents to guide you. People have already mentioned keeping documents in order. you mentioned commissions, time how long it takes you do to things and decided how you'd like to be paid based on the hour. Do Not undersell yourself. If you're uncomfortable with people maybe seeing your real name/using real info for payments, there are companies that work as your registered agent (at least that's what it's called in the usa) that you can use the address of for a yearly fee

You can also look into passive income things with art like making stickers for redbubble and Ive heard about artists making stock images before but I don't know how that really work tbh ^^;

-

here's a good post on general adult knowledge

here's a post on things to know once your out

Always Pay Rent First. Normally there's always some sort of way to get food, losing your apartment makes it super hard to keep a job

-

As for staying sane, people really help. Not necessarily even talking a whole ton.

Going and sitting at a cafe or park. wandering around a mall.

It's why I adore anime cons. You can look up board game or crafting groups in your area. If you're lgbtqia you can look for nearby queer centers, they're really helpful for advice and resources. Libraries are ridiculously useful. My nearby one hosts plenty of events and has a poster board for nearby event happening. You can just spend the afternoon there.

Journaling and deep breathing and calm music all really help me too.

Therapy has always been the most helpful but not everyone has access to that.

Also getting a good nights rest. So many of my problems have been helped a lot by getting better sleeping habits

-

As for where to move, think about things like climate, laws, how the people there act. My town is super queer friendly but two towns over they're very much not, so be careful. Normally a simple google search on the name of a town can tell you a lot about it.

When picking out apartments, things like if you have animals or a car are super important. I have a car so Im looking for somewhere that has dedicated parking cause I can't afford someone hitting it when it's parked on the side walk.

-

There are jobs that lead into other jobs. Knowing powered equipment, such as forklifts, can score you better paying jobs in the future.

If you're looking into something art wise, just focus on portfolio, no one cares if you went to college as long as you can do what they need.

There's also apps for things like setting up dog sitting. I've also heard of event staffing companies that'll give you jobs as they come, never done it though so look thoroughly into that.

you can look up the average rent/utilities and such of a town you want to live in to get an idea of what you'll be paying

-

Credit score is super important in the usa to renting, but I don't know if you have that or an equivalent. If there's is, there should be secured credit cards that help you start building credit if you have none.

-

Just remember that this won't last forever and you got this!! it's painful and scary but it's temporary.

Also remember that you still deserve better even though you're not being abused, it still hurts and that's vaild.

I dont know if any of this is helpful but I wish you the best and feel free to ask questions if you need anything :D

.

[offbrandkyoya]

71 Goodbye Moon

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You’ve been at the hospital all day.

Xiao woke up a few times to eat or realize his surroundings before falling asleep again. You all could tell he was exhausted about this situation and kept the conversation at minimum so he can rest.

Lumine was the first to leave as she had work tomorrow. The boys didn’t want to go home but the manager instructed them to. However, Venti is allowed to stay behind since he is the leader. Scaramouche didn’t want to leave you just yet. He asked the manager for permission and, like always, she says yes to him. Aether didn’t want to leave also but he didn’t feel like arguing with his manager.

Xiao was awake when the boys said goodbye. When it was Aethers turn, Xiao held his hand and told him it was going to be okay. Aether squeezes his hand tight and smiles. When the boys exit the room, Aether starts to cry again.

Now, it’s just you, Scaramouche, and Venti. Venti stood by the door while you and your boyfriend sat in the chairs. You start to nod your head a little and eyes fighting to stay open. Scaramouche notices, wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulls you close so that your head is on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything but massage your arm. You take a while to process your new position then close your eyes.

You don’t sleep right away but you take in his warmth. After a while, you feel your phone vibrate and you sit up. You take out your phone and see that it’s Thoma calling you. You turn to Scaramouche but he got the hint and allows you to leave to answer the call. You decide you’ll go outside so you won’t disturb any families.

Once outside, you answer, “Hello?” “Yn! Albedo told me you left in a hurry. Is everything okay?” You smile slightly. “Everything’s okay. Please don’t worry. Actually, I’m thinking of staying with Scaramouche for a while.” “Oh. You won’t be coming to class.” “I don’t know yet. I’m pretty far.” “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.” “Thank you.” “Of course.” You hang up but don’t come back inside.

You stare up at the sky. The slight breeze doesn’t make you cold. It was refreshing to be out and not inside where the tension is at. You take a breath in and continue to stare at the night sky. The stars are beautiful as well. There’s two specific ones that are especially close together. Your stomach is filled with butterflies as you imagine it as you and your boyfriend. They’re right next to the moon as well.

“The moons beautiful isn’t it?” You jump and turn back to the entrance. Scaramouche smiles while walking up to you. He stands right next to you and you smile back. “Yeah.” You grab his hand and interlock your fingers. He pulls you closer to him which makes you giggle.

You guys stare at the moon. Nothings said but it didn’t matter. Your guys presence alone made you feel at home. Scaramouche glances at you before he fully turns his head to look at you, admiring your beauty under the moonlight. You didn’t notice for a little bit and when you did, you look at him but he doesn’t look away. Scaramouche places a hand on your cheek. You freeze at his touch.

Scaramouche leans his face close to yours, closing his eyes. You close yours as well while awaiting your night kiss. It doesn’t happen though. You open your eyes and Scaramouche is staring at you. “What’s wrong?” You ask. Scaramouche puts his hand away. “I don’t know.” You can tell he feels bad about it but you simply give him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” You whisper. “We’re here together. That’s all that matters.” He smiles and kisses your cheek instead.

“I’m lucky to have you.” He says, blushing. You laugh, “You give me too much credit, Scara.” He only smiles. You let out a sigh, facing forward. “I think I might stay here for a while.” Scaramouche blinks, “Like at the hospital?” You laugh while shaking your head. “No. I mean, I might just rent a place so I can be near your guys.” Scaramouche gasps, “You shouldn’t. Don’t you have class?” “Y-Yeah but im worried.” Scaramouche sighs and holds your hands. “Yn, I know this is scary but I feel it’s best if you stay back home.”

Your lip trembles. “Xiao will be okay. So will everyone else. You shouldn’t worry about these things and focus on what’s happening where you are.” You look at him with glossy eyes. “What about you?” Your voice starts to crack. “What if something happens? What if you’re the one who’s in the hospital bed this time? What if-“ He places a finger on your lips. “Nothing like that is going to happen to me. I promise.”

You burst out crying and hug him so tight that he was quite surprised by this sudden strength. Scaramouche smiles softly and rubs your back. “I’ll be fine.” You continue to sob into his chest while he holds you, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You continue to cry and cry and Scaramouche could tell you’ve been holding in all these emotions for a long time.

He pulls you away to wipe the tears escaping your eyes. “Don’t cry.” He whispers and you hiccup in response. He laughs and pinches your cheek, trying to cheer you up. It works since you giggle a little in response. Scaramouche lifts up one of your hands and kisses your knuckles. You blush madly and when he lets go, his face is red as well. You smile, sniffling a little. “What a charmer.” You joke and he rolls his eyes. You let out a yawn and rub your eyes.

“You should go home.” He says but you shake your head no. Scaramouche raises his brow with a stern expression like he was your father. You pout but sigh. “Okay…” He smiles again and flicks your forehead. “Good.” You stick your tongue out but smile too. “It’s dark out. I’m too tired to drive.” You whine and he shrugs. “Not my problem.” You gasp, “Wow. After everything we’ve been through??” “Yeah.”

You roll your eyes with a smile. You walk up close to him which causes him to freeze up. You start to play around with his hair, styling to whatever you felt was good. “I’m going to miss you.” You whisper and he whispers back, “I’m going to miss you too.” You can feel your tears rise again but you shake it off. You hold his face before kissing his forehead. You face him with rosy cheeks. “I love-“ Suddenly, you both hear the door opening and walk backwards, far away from each other.

It was Venti, who looked at you two with a tired expression. “Go home, Yn.” He sighs and you nod. Scaramouche scratches his head. “Jesus Christ, you scared us. We thought you were the manager.” Venti chuckles, “If I was I’d probably be yelling right now.” “True.” You take out your car keys but you turn to Venti, “Arent you going to sleep?” Venti crosses his arms. “No. I’m supposed to stay here.” “All night?” He nods which causes you to frown. “I’ll be fine. Scaramouche, go back to the dorms too.” “Yeah yeah.” You hit his chest.

Venti yawns, “I’ll get going. Bye yn. See you soon.” You wave, “See you. Goodnight.” Venti walks back inside leaving the two of you alone. You kiss Scaramouche’s cheek. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” He holds your hand for a while. “I’ll be waiting.” You smile fondly at him. “Me too.” Scaramouche gives your hand a small squeeze and lets go. You head towards your car and he watches you to make sure your safe. You head inside, start the car, and he stays outside until you’re finally out of sight.

Scaramouche frowns now that you’re gone. He looks up at the moon. “Goodbye.” Then, Scaramouche goes back inside the hospital to stay with Venti for a few more minutes until he leaves.

- sorry for the slow updates schools kicking my butt :(

- anyways!

- it gets worse

- maybe 🤗

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[flyingwargle]

sunaosa week day 3: confessions / asexuality spectrum

things started off innocently enough - folded notes passed in class, shared glances in between sets, memes exchanged through the evening. as time went on, things started to escalate - brushed shoulders while walking side by side, hand holding when no one was looking, hugs in addition to verbal farewells at the end of the day.

their first kiss wasn't until graduation, a brush of lips obscured behind a curtain of cherry blossoms.

osamu became an apprentice at a traditional restaurant and suna was scouted by a div. 2 team in the same neighborhood. with their combined incomes, they rented a shitty studio apartment, working long hours until they returned home to each other's arms, cuddling on the couch, prompting one another not to fall asleep before dinner.

he told atsumu about all this on one of his rare days off while suna was still at the gym. his brother's confusion was palpable. "ya mean ya don't do anythin' more than that?"

"like what?"

"ya haven't had sex yet?"

the long silence that followed was enough of an answer. osamu hung up and atsumu never asked again.

years later, on a random tuesday while clearing the counter after his customers left, the question pops back into his mind. why haven't we had sex?  there are a few possibilities:

a) their shitty apartment was barely soundproof, and the entire building would've heard them.

b) suna moved out after he was recruited by ejp, and their daily routine changed to a monthly routine.

c) they are always so tired when they're finally together that they want nothing more than to cuddle and sleep.

d) neither of them is interested.

what's the correct answer?

the front door slides open. osamu straightens with his customer service smile. "hey, welcome ta-"

he cuts himself off at suna's languid smile, broad shoulders hugged by his team jacket, duffle over his arm. osamu leaves him cloth behind to approach him. "hello, there. i haven't seen ya 'round here before."

"really? i've eaten everything off the menu and then some." he winks, pulling him into a tight embrace. "i happen to be very close with the owner."

osamu chuckles, burying his chin in the soft polyester material of his boyfriend's jacket. "i'll hafta give 'im a stern talkin' ta. it's unbecomin' of him ta give out freebies."

a clearing of the throat makes him jump apart, and osamu catches the unamused look of his assistant manager. suna chuckles, adjusting the duffle over his arm. "i'll go settle down and come back to help out."

"ya should rest. ya came a long way."

"it's fine. i slept on the shinkansen." he slides the door open. "i'll be back later."

osamu returns behind the counter, eyes sweeping the filled tables, their plates full of delicious onigiri and other side dishes. he worked tirelessly to reach this spot, just as suna worked diligently to become a regular on a top team. they've sworn to spend the rest of their lives together, agreed that distance is a small price to pay in the interim.

so why haven't we become more intimate?

they're physical with hugs and occasional kisses. osamu can count on both hands the amount of times they made out using atsumu's definition ("lotsa tongue an' real hot"), and strangely, he doesn't feel the need to push further. suna probably doesn't either, since he never did anything that made osamu uncomfortable.

or maybe he wants ta, an' i just missed the signs. atsumu's always said he was dense. he believes it, himself, so it's honestly a miracle that he even realized his feelings for suna.

just before evening service, suna returns, donning an onigiri t-shirt and hat. he hip checks osamu when he slides behind the counter to help in the kitchen, and osamu is too busy to talk with him. business is steady all the way until closing, and clean-up is quick with an extra set of hands. soon, osamu is locking up, hand finding suna's on the short walk to the apartment.

it isn't shitty nor rented, but a modest one-bedroom with a lovely kitchen, balcony, and den that osamu uses as an office and suna uses as storage. osamu makes quick work of the leftovers to make dinner, and they sit at the table to eat, picking up exactly where their last message left off. afterwards, suna washes the dishes and osamu finishes his paperwork, inputting the day's totals in his spreadsheet, closing his laptop with a satisfied smile.

suna waits for him on the couch, half-asleep. osamu slides next to him, leans his head on his shoulder. "hey, rin," he murmurs. "i got a question fer ya."

"mm?"

"why haven't we had sex with each other?"

a pause. a long pause. he feels suna straighten, voice hesitant. "i dunno. do you want to?"

"i'm askin' ya."

"personally, no, but if it's something you want..."

"no...i mean, it isn't a big deal fer me? i just got thinkin' that we've been together fer so long, but we never..." now that he says it aloud, he can't help but feel ridiculous. why should having sex be an indicator of how well a relationship is doing? there are so many other factors to consider that aren't physical intimacy.

suna moves away, and osamu sits upright to face him, caught off-guard by the serious glint in his boyfriend's eyes. "did something happen to make you think this?" he asks.

"not really. it was a question that 'tsumu asked me a while back, and i never gave 'im an answer, and it sorta...came back ta me. is it just us? it isn't actually normal ta not want sex...right?"

his small smile is rueful. "it isn't. i suspected it but didn't say anything, and i didn't say anything either...i'm asexual. it means i don't feel sexual attraction to others."

osamu stares at him. "huh."

"i figured it out in high school," suna continues. "it was around the time that atsumu came out as bi, and you said something like, gender doesn't matter, you'd like whoever you liked. i wondered for myself, and realized that i was the same as you, except i'd never want to sleep with anyone. that's when i found out about asexuality."

it's the first time that osamu heard of the term, and somehow, it feels...right. he never expressed a desire to sleep with anyone either, even felt disgusted by the idea. but when it came to suna... "i don't think i'd sleep with anyone other than ya," he admits. "is that weird?"

"no, that's demisexuality, which means you need to have an emotional connection with someone before you have sex. i love you and all, but i don't feel that, at all. we can try, if you want."

"no, no, i don't wanna make ya uncomfortable!" osamu says quickly. he squares his shoulders. "i'll live without it, rin. thank ya fer tellin' me this. i'm glad ta know."

"just ask if you have any more questions. we can work this out together." suna reaches for his hand, and they share a smile, one born of love and understanding.

[em-harlsnow]

Weekly tag Wednesday - The google search edition!

Thanks so much for tagging me @spookygingerr and @burninface

name: Em

where in the world is carmen sandiego? (or you): I have no idea what this means I cant lie

ok, so this week we are going to snoop into your google search. type in each phrase and tell us what the first suggestion is that google gives you!

What is the best way to… sleep???

Where can I… watch salt burn

How old is… Joe Biden (im not even American)

How long does it take… to get pregnant (I do not want kids no thanks)

How many… weeks in a year (52)

Who set the record for… the highest jump?

When did... covid start?

What does it feel like to… get shot (probably not good)

Can you… run it (im not sure what im running)

When you… know you know (you know?)

Why do… cats purr (because it's adorable)

Is there a way… to save karlarch (I have no clue what this is)

How old do you have to be… to rent a car (23 apparently)

Where do the… Florida panthers play (again, not American)

What is the best time to… post on instagram (im gonna get famous guys)

And to finish us off… What comes up when you type in Shameless? shameless cast (fair enough it's a beautiful cast)

I'm tagging

@transsexual-dandelions @sam-loves-seb @atthedugouts @m4ndysk4nkovich @sgtmickeyslaughter @bawlbrayker @mickeym4ndy