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incognit0slut · 2 months

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Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene II: The Dangerous Game)

An unexpected tension rises between you as Spencer dangerously blurs the line of your fake relationship.

Part warning: Sexual tension. Lots of it. And... body description? Basically Spencer gets a little handsy and has a boner😭 Words: 2.8k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You should’ve known this would happen. Deep down, given the lie you were maintaining, you had suspected that you'd end up sharing a room together. You were dragging your suitcase behind you—because a duffel bag wasn’t enough for all your stuff despite staying just one night—when Penelope pulled you away from the group.

“You and lover boy are staying in the room on the second floor, the one on the corner left.”

You frowned, your eyes darting between Penelope and Spencer, who was grabbing his bag from the car. “I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you reasoned, trying to come up with an excuse. “I mean… Reid and I just started dating, we haven’t… you know.”

Penelope flashed you a smile. "Then maybe it's the perfect time to… you know.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. "Pen, no, we should probably—"

She cut you off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It’s just for one night. Besides, you know it’s the best room here—great view, lots of space. It would be a waste for it not to be enjoyed by the new couple."

You narrowed your eyes on her.

“It’s also the only room with a lock.”

You made a face. The thought of sharing a room with Spencer, especially one with a lock, sent a wave of anxiety through you. Memories of that night flooded your mind, making the situation feel even more daunting. You felt your cheeks flush again, your heart pounding faster. It took every ounce of your self-control to smooth your expression back into something neutral.

"Alright," you said, forcing a smile. “Fine.”

Penelope beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "Great!” She gushed, pulling her suitcase. “Because there are no available rooms left.”

You sighed inwardly, realizing there was no way out of this. You watched her enter the house, leaving you to gather your thoughts alone. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe sharing a room with Spencer would be manageable.

After all, it was just one night. You had handled more complicated scenarios in your line of work, hadn’t you? You had faced near-death experiences. If you could negotiate with armed suspects, how hard could one evening of pretend romance be?

Extremely hard, you realized, because when Spencer slowly approached you, all you wanted was for the ground to swallow you whole.

“What?” he asked, probably noticing the look of sheer panic on your face.

You tried to find the proper way to say it, searching for words that might soften the blow. But there was no other way than to tell it how it was.

“We’re... we’re sharing a room,” you finally managed to say.

There was a pause, and then there it was, the elephant in the room. But you both avoided acknowledging it directly, as you always did, so he simply cleared his throat and looked away.

“Okay,” Spencer said quietly, his eyes fixed on some distant point.

“Okay?” You echoed. “You’re really okay with this?”

He glanced back at you. “Look, weren’t you the one who wanted to make this convincing? Sharing a room might help with that.”

You sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling the weight of the situation. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just...”

“It’s just one night,” he snapped. “We’ll manage.”

Oh, wow, he was going to be a bitch about it.

His tone was sharp, dismissive, and it grated on your nerves. This whole situation was already uncomfortable, and his attitude was only making it worse. The last thing you needed was him to act like this was some minor inconvenience when it felt like so much more. You threw a glare at him.

“Fine,” you shot back. “But you’re taking the floor.”

He didn’t respond, he just kept looking at you with that same unreadable expression. His silence was infuriating. It was as if he couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge your frustration, and that only fueled your anger more. Without another word, you stormed away, seething, dragging your suitcase as you left him standing alone in the driveway.

Maybe he shouldn't have snapped at you. Spencer knew it wasn't fair to take his frustration out on you, especially when you were both stuck in the same awkward predicament. But it was hard to act as if everything was fine when the reality of your situation weighed so heavily on his mind.

Sometimes he wished he wasn’t wired like this. He knew he had the tendency to overthink, to let anxiety get the better of him, or to struggle with situations that required emotional skill. He could handle high-pressure situations in the field, but dealing with personal relationships was hard for him. It was never his intention to push people away when he felt overwhelmed, but it happened way too often, and today was no exception.

He also knew he needed to work on that. But to do so, it required him to confront his traumas, and that was the last thing he wanted to face. So instead, he pulled his sunglasses down and opened his book because nothing screams a good coping mechanism like reading fiction to avoid reality.

And his reality now was you.

“What are you doing?”

He peered over his glasses and saw Derek hovering above him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re brooding.”

“I’m reading.”

“I can see that,” Derek said as he settled on the lounge chair beside him. “What I meant was, what are you doing out here alone? Where’s your girlfriend?”

Spencer had asked himself the same question. You weren’t there when he dropped his bag in your shared room, you were also missing during lunch, and when he realized that you were avoiding him on purpose, he decided to change into more comfortable clothes and head out to the pool.

“She’s around,” Spencer replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Needed some alone time, I guess.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise already? You two just started dating.”

“It’s not that. We’re just…” He thought of a way to explain the situation without giving too much details. “We’re adjusting to the whole team knowing about us. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“You’re both overthinkers, that’s the problem. Just relax and enjoy the weekend,” Derek suggested, leaning back in his chair before giving him a pointed look. “And maybe try spending some time with her instead of hiding behind that book.”

“I’m not hiding,” Spencer shot back without looking up from the pages.

“Sure you’re not,” Derek replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Just saying, kid, you’re here to have fun. Maybe try doing that with your girlfriend.”

He turned a page over, not saying a word. When Derek realized he was purposely ignoring him, he leaned closer.

"Let me give you some advice about women."

Spencer wrinkled his nose, already dreading what was coming. "I’m not sure I want to listen to this."

"Trust me, you do," Derek insisted. "First off, this," he said, pausing for emphasis before pointing his finger toward Spencer’s book. "Is not cute."

Spencer flipped over his book, revealing the cover with its title printed in bold letters. In Cold Blood. "Of course not. It's a detailed account of the 1959 murders in—hey!"

Before he could continue, Derek reached out and plucked the book from his hands. "Not this. You," he said, pointing the book at him. "No wonder she's off doing her own thing while you're glued to this."

Spencer furrowed his brow. "She's the one who—"

"No. No." Derek placed the thick paperback down on the small table between them. "Second piece of advice about women, they're always right. Or, at least, they think they are, and sometimes it's easier and wiser just to go along with that."

"That's hardly practical advice."

Derek laughed, leaning back comfortably. "You don't have to agree with everything, but showing that you value her perspective can go a long way."

"She’d be easier to deal with if she wasn’t so stubborn.”

"Reid, do you even hear yourself? You sound like you don't even like her."

Spencer paused, an uncomfortable realization dawning on him. He was supposed to be playing the part of a devoted boyfriend, not a grumpy one. He was supposed to keep up the act.

"Fine," he sighed reluctantly. "What should I do then?"

"Be present. Stop isolating yourself and go talk to her."

"I don't even know where she is."

“Then go find her," Derek said matter-of-factly, his eyes drifting across the pool. He nodded his head. "Speak of the devil.”

Spencer turned in the direction Derek pointed, pushing his sunglasses up with a finger as they slid down his nose.

Then he froze. His brain promptly shut down as if someone had flipped a switch. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, his jaw slacking open, his mind startlingly blank as he watched you step out of the house wearing what he assumed was a swimsuit. The top had straps that crisscrossed in a way that seemed overly complicated to him, and the bottoms were minimal, barely covering your skin.

Your swimsuit left very little to the imagination and he found himself momentarily stunned. He felt an unexpected tightness in his throat and a sudden warmth pooling in his chest. The heat surged through his body before it focused right between his legs, and he forced himself to clench his thighs together as he snapped his mouth shut.

Derek cleared his throat beside him.

"I guess you do like her," he teased, picking up the book from the table before dropping it onto Spencer's lap. "You might want to hide that."

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red as he quickly tried to adjust the book to cover himself better. His mortification grew as he noticed you standing close by, your attention directed towards Derek.

"Hey Morgan, can I steal my boyfriend for a sec?" you asked, smiling a little too sweet.

"He's all yours, pretty girl," Derek replied with a grin, standing up before he left you two alone. When he was out of earshot, you sat on the chair he had occupied.

"We've been away from each other far too long," you commented, your voice hushed. "It's not looking good for us."

Spencer nodded absently, trying to focus on your words. But his attention was too focused on the bottle of sunscreen in your hand.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

He shook his head.

“You have," you pointed out, popping open the cap. "Well, maybe I have too, but that’s not the point."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes following the movements of your hands as you squeezed some sunscreen onto your palm.

"We need to do something," you continued. Your palms rubbed the lotion together at the same time his tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. "If we keep avoiding each other, they’ll start to suspect us."

He nodded again, his mind half on your words and half on the way the sunscreen glistened on your skin as you started applying it to your arms. "You're right," he admitted, forcing himself to concentrate. "We need to be more convincing."

"Exactly," you pressed, unaware of his growing distraction. "We should start doing things that couples do. Spend time together, be seen together."

"Yeah," he echoed, his gaze drifting as you moved to apply sunscreen to your shoulders. “Together.”

"And we should show more affection," you added, and his breathing hitched slightly when your hands moved to apply sunscreen across your chest, fingers brushing subtly along the upper swell of your breasts. It was a casual motion for you, but for him, it was torture. His eyes followed the path of your hands, his mind struggling to stay focused on anything else.

"And I know you don’t like holding hands, or any type of PDA for the matter," you continued, turning slightly, giving him a clearer view of your chest. "But I think it's necessary. It makes this whole thing look real.”

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, his focus slipping again as your hand moved lower, smoothing lotion over your stomach and inching toward your hips. His throat felt dry, and he unconsciously pressed the book harder against his lap.

“Really? You’re okay with that?”

He blinked, forcibly pulling his eyes up to meet yours, hoping you were oblivious of where his gaze had lingered behind his shades.

“Yes." He winced when his voice came out high-pitched and strained. He cleared his throat, and repeated in a more controlled voice, “Yes.”

“Huh.”

He shifted nervously. “What?”

“Nothing.” You looked away, now focusing on your legs. “I just didn’t expect you to agree.”

He hadn’t planned to, but it was hard to think straight when he was too focused on the way you were leaning down, smoothing the lotion over your thighs. The angle gave him a clear view of your breasts peeking out from your top, the thin fabric barely containing them, and he had to bite his lip to suppress a moan.

“Great, they’re still staring at us,” you noted with a quick glance over your shoulder. You handed him the bottle of sunscreen. “Here, help me put it on my back.”

His eyes widened. “I don’t think—“

But you were already laying down on your stomach on the lounge chair, pushing your hair to the side. “Come on, it’ll look more natural if you help me.”

Maybe you were right, maybe this was necessary, but he couldn’t help recalling the last time he had his hands on you and how that night had turned out. But he convinced himself that this was different. You both were out in the open and surrounded by your friends, so nothing could go wrong.

Nothing serious, anyway.

He moved to your chair while keeping his book securely on his lap, and you caught sight of his awkward movements. “You know you could just put the book down.”

“No, I… I think I’ll keep it with me.”

“You must really like that book.”

He forced a small laugh, trying to appear casual. “Yeah, it’s, uh, a good read.”

You frowned, clearly not buying it but choosing not to push further. He then took a deep breath and poured some sunscreen into his hands. He moved closer, the book still awkwardly balanced on his lap, and slowly placed his hands on your back.

Your skin was warm, just like how he had imagined it. Soft and smooth under his fingertips. He started at your shoulders, working his way down with slow, careful motions. He could feel the tension in his body as he focused on you, acutely aware of every inch of skin under his fingers.

You had grown quiet, and Spencer noticed the subtle change in your breathing—how it had deepened and slowed. Your usual witty remarks were replaced by a tense silence that seemed to hum with something neither of you had expected to surface. He felt your muscles relax under his touch, and as he reached the lower part of your back, he paused, unsure.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “You can go lower... if you need to.”

He nodded slightly, though you couldn’t see it, and shifted his position. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, the subtle shifts of your body as you adjusted to his touch. Then his hands slipped a bit further down, his fingers brushing the top of your swimsuit line.

“Let me know if I need to stop,” he murmured, his voice low and almost hesitant.

You didn’t respond immediately, and he took your silence as permission to continue. His pulse quickened as he realized the line he was crossing. This was already dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he was this close to feeling your soft flesh beneath his fingertips. Not when the rush of blood to his groin was making him lose all sense of control.

He carefully slipped his fingers just under your swimsuit. When you made no move to stop him, his fingers dipped dangerously lower, his gaze intently fixed on your face. He observed your mouth part slightly, eyes closed and brows knitted together in a mix of surprise and something else he couldn't quite place.

He was so focused on your expression, the way your body responded to his hands, that he nearly missed the soft, almost breathless sigh that escaped your lips. The sound was unmistakably intimate, downright sinful and he immediately stopped. His hands hovered just above your skin as you quickly opened your eyes, realization dawning on both of you.

"I-I'm sorry, I—" he started, pulling his hands back, the book almost falling from his lap.

"No, it's... it's okay," you said quickly, sitting up and adjusting your swimsuit, a flush creeping up your neck. “I… uh...”

You looked at each other, silent for a heartbeat. Then you both began to speak at the same time.

“I’m gonna—”

“I should probably—”

You cleared your throat, beginning to stand up. “I’m gonna grab a drink. Do you want anything?”

Spencer shook his head, a tight smile briefly crossing his face. “No, I, uh, I’m good. Thanks.”

There was an awkward silence before you finally snapped. You quickly turned and hurried away, leaving Spencer to himself as he sat there, his body betraying a level of sexual frustration that was both inconvenient and embarrassing. The bulge in his pants was almost painfully obvious at that point, forcing him to adjust the book on his lap with a grimace.

His eyes involuntarily flickered back to you, only to regret it instantly as he caught a glimpse of your ass peeking from the bottom of your swimsuit. He let out a sigh. He might actually need a cold drink after all, or better yet, a whole bucket of ice.

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teamatsumu · 11 months

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kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

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whenlilyfallsinlove · 5 months

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jolene part 2

(aka remus having a fat crush on you) (basically part 1 from remus's perspective)

part 1

james potter x reader -> remus lupin x reader

@mishi-with-jazz you requested this, hope everyone enjoys :)

remus lupin prided himself on being smart. sure, he wouldn't go round bragging about it, but he knew he was clever. he was a good student, always achieving Os, and constantly top of the class (alongside lily). although recently, he didn't feel smart at all. that's because he had made a mistake. a big one. he had a massive crush on you. his best friend's girlfriend.

he hated himself for it. what kind of friend does that? but he couldn't help it. and anyway he had liked you first! way before james did, ever since third year. he felt selfish, thinking that, but it was the truth. james claimed he had liked you for ages, but remus knew that was nothing compared to the length of time he himself harboured feelings for you.

"hello darling." remus was broke from his thoughts by james' voice, and saw you had sat down next to james, across from him. across from him!!

you were beautiful, he couldn't help thinking when he saw you cheekily poked your tongue out at sirius. you had always been kind to him, ever since you sat next to each other in your very first year. potions, if he remembered correctly.

in fact, you even knew about his "furry little problem" as your boyfriend liked to call it. you found out in fourth year, and you were nothing but helpful to him. you promised not to tell anyone and hadn't treated him any differently. he was eternally grateful.

remus had not noticed he'd been gazing at you till you gave him a smile causing his cheeks to warm up and smile back, quickly looking away. he'd been caught staring. that was embarrassing. what if you thought he was a weirdo? what if james had noticed and forbid him from speaking to you? even worse.. what if james stopped being friends with him for fancying his girlfriend?

his panics stopped when he saw lily evans approach the table. he listened to you talk to her, thanking her, and then he noticed james' face. long before you had. before sirius aand peter had. he was blushing. was he serious? james was one of his best friends, don't get him wrong, but he had a girlfriend. it made it worse his girlfriend was you.

remus bit down on his marmalade toast, hard. he was angry for you.

"james are you okay?" he heard you ask curiously, causing him to feel a pang of sympathy for you.

he heard james brush you off, and suddenly it was like nothing had even happened. everyone seemed to have moved on. remus wasn't even sure that padfoot and wormtail had even noticed james' reaction to seeing lily.

he knew you had, though. you were quieter than usual. you looked.. sad.

he shot you a comforting smile, which you returned weakly.

at least you're smiling, even if it was forced.

sometime passed until you spoke up again

"i need to go to the library, does anyone want to come with?" you asked, looking hopefully at james.

"sorry love, got quidditch practice in ten minutes." james said with a sympathetic smile.

"it's fine." remus heard you mutter, you sounded a bit dejected.

"i'll go. i need to anyway, i need a book for the history of magic homework." remus surprised himself, not even processing what he had actually just said.

"thanks remus." you smile softly, and he follows you out of the hall.

you both walk in silence to the library, until remus decides to speak up.

"are you okay?" he asks, looking at your face.

"i'm fine, thanks though.." you said unconvincingly.

"are you sure? you look upset." he responds, giving you a worried smile.

"it's just... james. he's confusing." you sigh.

remus heart stopped. a small part of him hoped you'd tell him that you were planning to break up with james. he knew that was unlikely.

he gives you a nod to continue speaking and you smile in return.

"sometimes i think he still likes lily." you say, avoiding eye contact.

as much as remus wanted to tell you yes!! yes james still likes lily, but here i am and i like you a lot!! he knew he couldn't.

"don't be silly y/n." remus chuckles "james likes you, not lily. she's old news." he gives you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"really?" you look at remus with such hopefulness, it made him hope what he was saying was true.

"really." he confirms. "james is crazy about you."

you smile at him, looking reassured.

"thanks remus." you say. "you're a great friend."

remus felt himself tense. friend. but of course that's all he was.. you had a boyfriend for godric's sake. he decided, however, he would like being your friend if it made you smile.

"it's no problem, really." he smiles at you and you carry on your journey to the library.

since that talk, you immediately felt closer to remus. you talked more and you both considered each other best friends.

weeks later, you were brought together again.

"you don't usually go to parties, do you remus?" you ask remus, who was holding up a drunk james.

gryffindor had just had a party to celebrate their quidditch win against slytherin and james, being captain of course, was drunk out of his mind.

he was touched you had noticed he didn't usually attend the parties. you were right. he didn't. but james and sirius were on the quidditch team, and he wanted to celebrate their win with them.

"n-no i don't, just wanted to support my friends." he decides to respond, and he knows what he said was apparently correct judging by the smile on you face.

he watched you talk to james comfortingly. merlin he wished you spoke to him like that. you were one of the nicest people he knew.

he zoned out a second but then sees your face, which instantly snaps him out of his daze.

"i'm not lily." he saw you grit your teeth. "would you rather have her take care of you?"

noticing your hurt words, he's quick to comfort you.

"don't worry y/n, he's drunk, he doesn't know any better." he tries to reassure you.

you nod back, but then collapse on a chair.

you looked sad. devastated. remus wanted nothing more to cheer you up.

"look.. y/n, i'll take him up to bed. do you want me to come back down so you can talk.. or do you want some space?" he asks.

"talk." you notice your abruptness and you feel your cheeks warm. "that'd be nice." you add on the end.

remus smiles at you and takes james up to their dorm, where sirius is left to deal with him.

"why's he such a lightweight?" sirius chuckles.

"i know. weakling." remus snorts. "he's fucked up though."

"he has?" sirius responds, with some surprise.

"yeah he's upset y/n." remus responds, frowning.

"prick." sirius rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to james.

"i'll be back.. soon." remus leaves his dorm, and goes back to where you're sat trying to regain yourself.

"hey.." you mutter when you see him, and he takes the seat next to you.

"talk to me." he smiles, sympathetically.

"it's james. again. you heard him. he's always thinking about lily! i'm his girlfriend, not her." a tear rolls down your face.

"oh y/n, don't cry." remus reaches out and brushes the tear away.

"sorry.. i'm pathetic. i just don't know what to do." you groan.

"look.. do you want my honest advice." remus scans your face.

you nod.

"talk to him about it tomorrow, if he doesn't take accountability for it. dump him. and i'm saying that as one of his best friends."

remus feels your gaze on him and feels his cheeks warm.

"oh remus." you lay your head on his shoulder, causing him to freeze up. he knew you weren't drunk but you were still a little tipsy.

he lets you lay there, you look tired.

"i wish james was more like you..." you mutter, drifting off.

remus's breath hitched. although this wasn't reliable at all (you weren't sober), this was progress.

looking at you with a small smile, he just couldn't help but love you.

#x reader #fanfic #harry potter x reader #fluff #angst #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black

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nathaslosthershit · 5 months

Text

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite.

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow.

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other.

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently.

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this.

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently.

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’.

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t.

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says.

“I guess so.”

Part 2 out now!

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader

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getosfavoritewife · 9 months

Text

The Sun Always Rises

✮⋆˙ General Jing Yuan has a way of bringing sunlight to you, regardless of how much you avoid the warm rays. (1.5k words)

✮⋆˙ A/N: first post!! jing yuan has such a lazy/cozy feel and I'm still trying to gauge his personality so sorry if it's a bit ooc!!

✮⋆˙ Warning(s)/Content: forgemaster!reader; implications of mental health concerns (nothing heavy); can be read as platonic or romantic; fluffy fluff, teasing

✮⋆˙ jing yuan x gn!reader

Hearing three knocks against your door on a sunny winter evening could only signify one thing.

Not even trying to conceal the lack of surprise on your face, you open the door for your expected visitor; as usual, Jing Yuan greets you with a pleasant smile, hands comfortably clasped behind his back as he strides in like he owns the place, opens the curtains, and makes himself at home.

“Arbiter General,” you murmur, almost as if scripted.

“Forgemaster,” he replies in turn with a twinkle in his eyes, also as expected.

You don’t ask if he wants tea, opting to pour two cups and place them on the table as you both sit down. Forgemaster Yingxing had always taught you to be polite to guests, but that was a very long time ago, and Jing Yuan wasn’t just any guest.

“There’s a festival in Aurum Alley this evening,” Jing Yuan muses as he eyes the tea with interest, picking the small cup up as he gives the hot liquid a gentle blow and careful sip.

You know where he’s going with this, so at this point, the best course of action is feigned indifference and avoidance. “And you came all the way over here to let me know? Especially during such a busy day at The Seat of Divine Foresight?”

You take a ginger sip of the tea, grimacing as it burns the tip of your tongue, before placing it back down on the table. Master Yingxing’s tea was far superior to yours anyway—if he could see the hot garbage you’d brewed, he would have scolded your skills all afternoon.

Jing Yuan’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Astute as always. You should get out of the house more.”

“I leave the house,” you try not to sound defensive, squinting at the man sitting across from you. “I go to the forge every day.”

“Other than there?”

“And… I went to the market last week,” you grumble, rooting around in your brain for excuses. Lamely, all you come up with is a throwaway line about being too busy that you know Jing Yuan won’t buy. Anyone else would accept the lies that rolled off your tongue like second nature, but not Jing Yuan. He knew you and your habits all too well.

He stands up, dusting his pants off with a lazy smile. “Wonderful, grab your coat.”

“No, Jing Yuan. No.” You respond too quickly, shooting up as you wrack your brain for an excuse.

The softness with which he calls your name is lost to the roaring silence of the room and you know what face he’s making without even looking.

That corner above the cupboard really needs dusting. Master Yingxing would sneeze because of the dust, and he’d blame allergy season. Maybe tonight—

“Only for a little while,” he coaxes, as he swipes a strand of hair from obscuring your eyes. Maybe that’s what makes you meet his eyes: golden and full of life as usual, albeit with his dark circles that seemed worse than before.

“I’ll think about it,” you sigh tiredly, reaching up to run your fingers under his eyes. “You should sleep more, Jing Yuan. You look tired.”

A laugh rumbles out of him at that as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You can’t help but let the corners of your mouth quirk up in response. “Don’t let the others at The Seat of Divine Foresight hear you say that.”

“If only you would stop sneaking away at the sight of paperwork, maybe they wouldn’t be so wary of your work ethic,” you scold halfheartedly.

Jing Yuan simply watches you, an adoring smile peeking out that makes you want to push him away from you, embarrassed. Instead, you card your fingers through his hair, murmuring how his ribbon is coming loose as you free it from his snowy locks.

He sighs, letting his eyes flutter shut as you tug through his fluffy hair, replicating his usual hairstyle with practiced ease. You let your thoughts wander to when you used to re-tie his hair every day after it came loose during sparring while Master Yingxing went to go meet with sword master Jingliu and the others.

“How’s Yanqing’s training coming along?” Breaking the delicate silence, your voice always sounds unfamiliar these days; the results of less use, you suppose.

A golden eye cracks open to peer at you, and Jing Yuan lets out another sigh, this time more rueful. “You know how he tends to be. It still surprises me the speed with which he is able to pick up on new techniques and skills, but that obsession with winning and losing…” Jing Yuan trails off. “It’s like I say, if you treat him as a child, he'll put on the airs of an adult. If you treat him as an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child.”

“It’s a difficult age. Remember how you used to be?”

You bite back a snicker at the mock-offended look Jing Yuan shoots you.

“I don’t quite remember it like that,” he says. “I believe I was a joy to be around at every age.”

“I’m sure you remember it like that.”

“How else could you remember it?”

You take a break from playing with his hair to flick him on the forehead, at which he lets out a soft hiss, rubbing the small red mark and catching your hand before you can give him another one. “So mean.”

With a scoff, you make no move to remove your hand from his grip, letting yourself relax in his grasp. “You were nothing short of a terror. Anytime I tried to hang out with you it was always ‘Let’s spar here!’ or ‘Extra training is basically hanging out!’. I got so sick of you that I told Master Yingxing to stop meeting Master Jingliu when I was around.”

“Was I… really like that?” You can’t help but laugh at Jing Yuan’s face, ignoring the smile creeping onto his face at the sight of your laughter.

“All I’m saying is that he’ll grow out of it, just like you did. Kids are desperate to prove themselves at that age. You ought to praise him a little more,” you advise him softly.

“I give praise where it is deserved,” Jing Yuan places your clasped hands on his chest with fake affrontedness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he huffs in amusement.

“Yet I am expected to praise you even when you are undeserving?”

“I hadn’t realized there were times where I was ever undeserving of praise?” You can’t help to smack him with the hand that was resting on his chest as he pretends to ponder.

“Speaking of Yanqing though—” you start before Jing Yuan interrupts.

“I thought we were speaking about me?”

The roll of your eyes seemed to simply be an intrinsic reaction to Jing Yuan’s teases after all these years of dealing with his painfully fatherly sense of humor.

“General.”

The pleased smile on his face only curled higher. “I’m listening.”

“As I was saying, Yanqing’s birthday is approaching this month. Maybe it’s time he finally receives a sword from the Forgemaster on his birthday this year?”

“I can already imagine his tears of joy. He still asks when he can meet you sometimes. I admit I have yet to give him an answer in fear that he will spend every moment not used for training to instead bother you incessantly at your forge.”

“Like father, like son, I suppose. Send him around—it’s truly no bother. It would also help me figure out a suitable blade for him.”

You pretend to not see the way Jing Yuan’s brows knit together at your teasing jab.

“Come watch us train sometime soon. To help you gauge his fighting style, of course,” Jing Yuan remarks lightly.

“Of course,” you echo. Giving him a look before sighing, you grab your coat off the hook, opening the door for him as you slip it on. “Only for a little while at the festival, please. And no buying or winning me anything while we’re there.”

Jing Yuan doesn’t even try to hide the smile unfurling on his face and you know the next words that come out of his mouth are bound to be an easy lie. “Wouldn’t dream of anything else, Forgemaster.”

From spending every free minute together as kids to only seeing him when he came knocking on your door every single day. No matter what happened, the sun always rose the next day. And no matter what happened, your Jing Yuan was always there.

thanks for reading!! ✮⋆˙

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alicewritez · 6 months

Text

Heart to Heart - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1202

summary: you disobey a direct order from hotch and now you’re injured

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: implied age gap but nothing too descriptive or explicit. again, i’m only just getting back into writing so bare with me while i get into the swing of things again. hope you enjoy regardless 💕

You disrespected a direct order and got hurt on a case. After he found out you were going to be fine, he went straight to the silent treatment. No words, no glances exchanged on the ride to the hospital, nor on the jet, nor even on the ride back home.

Now, he's sat busy rewrapping your bandages, still maintaining the silence. You watch his hands carefully tend to your wounds before you decide to finally speak up and break the silence which, right now, felt even worse than him shouting.

"Say something at least," she pauses. "Shout at me.. storm out, I don't care just.. anything other than silence."

He finished rewrapping your bandages and looked up at you. "Don't be an idiot again."

"Is that it? Is that all you have to say?" You respond, expecting him to say more, but nothing came.

He sighs. "It's a miracle that you're sitting here talking to me after all, you know that?"

"A miracle?" You scoff. "Hotch, I had it under control, besides it's just a few scratches." You argue your point.

He raises a brow and looks at you incredulously. "A few scratches? Remind me again how many stitches you got?"

"It's not even that bad!" You argue again. "It's a few stitches, so what?"

"So what?! A few stitches? Have you lost your damn mind?! Is that all that’s left up there? You could have been killed, can’t you see that?”

“I was doing my job!” You raise your voice to match his own.

He raised his further, trying to prove his own point. “Your job is to obey when I say ‘pull back’!”

“If I had listened to you, those poor young women would have been murdered.” You state coldly to him, trying to get him to understand where you were coming from. “I was doing my job and yes I got injured but I’m fine.. and they’re safe.”

He sighs. “And you nearly joined them at the morgue.”

“What is it with you? What’s this all really about?!” You emphasise the second part of the sentence. You had never seen him get so wound up over something like this before. Usually it was a stern telling off and he’d let you go, but not today.

“It’s about you! Don’t you get it? I can’t afford to lose you.” And there it was. The whole reason he’d got so upset in the first place, it wasn’t just because you were one of his best profilers; there was something much deeper.

“Hotch..” you spoke gently, features softening. He sat back down and looked over at you. He was quiet for a minute before speaking up again.

“Do you think it’s easy for me to see you all beaten up?”

“I-I didn’t know you felt like that.” You stuttered out, choking back a sob. Your gaze was locked onto your hands in your lap, fiddling with a ring on your finger.

He stared at you for a moment before sighing softly. “I do. And I’m terrified. I don’t know what I’d do without you..” He held his arms out for a hug and waited for you to scoot closer to him, which didn’t take much prompting because no sooner had he opened his arms, you’d lunged right into them, burying your face into his chest.

He pulled you close and held you tight, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank goodness you’re alright, sweetheart. You have no idea how scared I was.”

You sigh, pulling away a little to look up at him but not wanting to let go completely. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.. I just wanted to save them.”

“I know, I know. I just don’t want to see you in any danger, that’s all.” He pulled you back to him, this time placing a soft kiss to your lips. When you pull away, you look up at him.

“I guess we’re not just ‘boss’ and ‘employee’ anymore..” This makes him chuckle, a smile forming on his lips, the first genuine smile you’d seen all night.

“Nope, we sure aren’t. I guess you’re not just ‘renegade agent who doesn’t listen and likes to make Hotch worry’ anymore either..” he smirks.

You give him a bemused look. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and the for the last time.. I was doing my job. You know you would have done the same thing if the roles had been reversed.”

He raises a brow at your statement but he couldn’t argue, knowing what you said had truth behind it. “I can’t say that you’re wrong. But I still don’t want you taking risks like that.”

“You nod your head slowly, knowing he was right. “It won’t happen again.”

“I know. Just think about my heart next time.” He sighed and brushed some hair out of your face. “That poor thing can only take so much.”

“I forgot you were old.” You pout playfully. “Well, not old but.. well- you’re older than me.” You start to ramble then stop. “I’ll just shut up.”

He smiled and chuckles softly. “Don’t you dare shut up.” He looks down at you, bringing a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your eyes and tucking them behind your ear. “I love it when you ramble on and on about random stuff. That’s one of the things I love about you.. that and your beautiful smile. And your pretty eyes. And your amazing personality.. and your..”

“Yeah okay, okay, I get it.” You bury your face into his side, feeling your face heat up from embarrassment. He chuckles again and gently runs his fingers through your hair. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are.” He pauses for a few seconds, looking you in the eyes. “Even with a few bruises and some stitches.”

You wince as he traces his fingers over some of the cuts and bruises that littered your face; he realises the mistake he’s made when he sees you wince. “Oh.. I’m sorry.” He moves his hand away quickly and looks away, hating to see you in pain.

“It’s okay.” You smile softly, taking his hand into yours and leaning further into his side. “I love you.”

His face softens at the confession. “I love you too.” He kisses you on the forehead and lets go of your hand, much to your dismay, but quickly wraps his arms around your waist instead. Pulling you back into his chest for another hug.

“I could stay like this forever.” You sigh in content, making him chuckle. “I could too.”

He kisses you on the forehead once more before pulling you even closer to him and whispering in your ear. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re all hurt, right?”

“I know.. but at least I have you.” You smile at the thought. He kisses you softly on the temple. “You always will. I’ll always be right here you know that, right?”

“I know.” You smiled as your head rested against him, eyes closed in content at the feeling of being near him.

It was in this moment you knew, Aaron’s words had never been more true.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #fanfic

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stellamancer · 11 months

Text

limitless (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: uh. should be working on my halloween fic lmaoo. but uh. thought i'd bang this out. inspired by a conversation with @shotorus about the names we use to refer to certain characters in narration. lmao.

contains: fem! reader (the only physical trait is that reader is shorter than gojo, gojo almost uses a gendered term for reader, but is cut off), established relationship (me: coughs up blood), typical gojo antics, nickname usage (darling, honey, sweetheart, babe), part of the infinite loop fic verse

wc: around 720

"...I have a question."

You look at Gojo expectantly. Normally, he just says whatever is on his mind without pause, without filter, so you don't get why he's standing on ceremony right now. "Yeah?"

"We're dating, aren't we?" he asks.

You nearly spit out your drink. He's not wrong; for better or worse, he is your boyfriend now. The fact of it is actually kind of unbelievable when you think about it. Not just you dating Satoru Gojo. But you dating Satoru Gojo. If you had told yourself that it would have come to this ten years ago, even five years ago, you would have thought yourself a liar.

Now he's the one giving you the expectant look, his lips curved upward that little smile that always manages to get your blood boiling. The cocky bastard probably just wants you to admit it.

You consider saying 'no' just for the hell of it.

You decide not to. It feels almost as if you’re pulling teeth when you respond, “...we…are.”

Gojo’s mouth puckers and you brace yourself knowing full well that he’s about to start whining about something. There’s always something with this guy…"If we’re dating, then why am I still just 'Gojo' to you? I call you by your first name!"

"You've always called me by my first name," you dead pan.

"That's because I've always loved you!"

You roll your eyes. You know that's a lie, but you don't intend to argue with him— at least not head on because you know that it’s just going to lead to a dead end. "No, you love disregarding proper social etiquette. Or rather, you don't see the point in it."

"Oh, darling, you know me so well!" Gojo gives you a saccharine smile and you almost gag.

"Don't call me that."

He pouts. "Well, if you say I always call you by name, shouldn't I call you something else to show how special you are to me?"

"...no, actually, just my name is fine." A nickname from Gojo sounds dangerous. The thought of being called some cutesy nickname in front of everyone you know is mortifying. In fact, Gojo would do it solely to embarrass you.

So, naturally, he ignores you. "If darling is no good, what about... babe? Honey?"

"Gojo, really, you don't—"

"Sweetheart? My love? Oh, I know, I bet you'd love to be called pr—"

"Satoru."

He immediately stops talking, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence. You didn't think that that would have that much of an effect to be honest. For once, it feels like you have the upper hand. You make sure to savor the moment because you know they are far and few in between.

"Just my name is fine," you repeat. "...okay?"

He gulps and answers, "...okay."

You try not to let your mind linger on the fact that his voice just now was lower than usual. "Good. So—"

"Say it again."

You blink. "Huh."

"My name," Gojo says, his voice thick with emotion. "Say it again."

When you don't say anything he takes a step toward you, the infinite cosmos in his eyes staring you down. You feel defiant. It's not fair of him to ask you anything when he looks and sounds like this. Gojo takes another step closer and you think that if you're adamant about not giving in to him you better do it before he gets too close.

"You've... " you start and hate how breathless you sound. This bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to you. "You've hit your daily limit."

Gojo pouts and takes another step. "Well, that's not fair."

"You're not fair," you retort.

He doesn't argue and you take that as Gojo admitting that he's playing dirty. "I think you should up the limit."

You hold your ground as he takes one more step closer.. "No. You think there shouldn't be a limit."

Gojo chuckles and leans down to bridge the rest of the distance between you. He cups your cheek, bringing your face closer to him. Your breath stills as you feel his own on you and it’s damn near intoxicating. His mouth is barely touching yours and your thoughts shift from trying to keep the banter going to how the slightest movement from either of you will result in a kiss.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “There shouldn’t.”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #nikuniku fics #i'm defs not the first person to write on this topic #and i won't be the last #reader never did answer his question though #but gojo gets one usage of satoru a day #they don't roll over #but if he's a good boy he can increase his allotment #unfortunately he is never a good boy #i'm going through gojo withdrawls don't look at me #i'm not really pleased with the ending #don't know how i'm gonna fix it tho #okay i gotta get back to my halloween fic #infinite loop!verse

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girlgenius1111 · 10 months

Text

Just Admit It

part 2 of do you need me!!

does it count as proofreading if I scrolled through it really fast before posting?

Falling asleep in Alexia's arms seemed to be a cure all- you'd woken up a few hours later and the pain in your head had dulled significantly. Alexia was just so relieved that you were feeling better, and didn't want to ruin your good mood by bringing up how you'd acted earlier. So, even though your reluctance to allow her to take care of you worried her deeply, she let it go, vowing to keep a close eye on you.

You wished that that had been the end of it. It should have been; your migraines were normally really rare. You'd never had more than one in the span of a few months, normally going a while in between episodes. Which was why you just dealt with them; they weren't a common enough occurrence for you to go to a doctor or something.

You must have been extra stressed, though, which you knew was the cause of your migraines. Between a hectic club schedule, and an insane international one, you were exhausted. Seeing how stressed Alexia was only made you feel worse, until you were a walking ball of anxiety going into the holiday break.

You and Alexia had just played last game of the year, a champions league group stage game, extremely ready to relax. It seems your relaxation time came a little late, though, because you felt the beginnings of a migraine starting to pulse in your brain on the drive home.

You were determined to keep this one to yourself. What had happened a couple weeks ago, letting Alexia see you in that state, could not happen again. Even if she told you she didn't mind. Even if she'd specifically asked you to tell her the next time you didn't feel well. You just couldn't. You kept quiet all the way home, heading inside and immediately curling up on the couch while Alexia sat next to you.

Alexia wasn't stupid, and she knew you very well. She knew you weren't feeling well, could tell from your silence in the car; normally you'd be all hyper after a game, changing the song every other minute and talking nonstop about whatever came to your mind. She loved hyper-post game y/n, who always managed to bring a smile to her face, no matter what mood she was in. Your lack of energy in the car was concerning, as was your behavior upon arriving home. Normally, the two of you picking dinner consisted of you going back and forth until one of you was so hungry that you just agreed to something you didn't want. Alexia pulled out her phone, prepared to start listing ideas, expecting this to take a while.

"What about sushi?" She suggested, half joking because you really didn't like sushi, and would normally complain about having to pick something random off the menu.

"Sure." You responded quietly, and Alexia's head raised to look at you, thinking she must have heard wrong.

"Okay... do you want fried rice?" she asked, eyes studying you closely.

"I'm actually not that hungry, I'll probably just make a sandwich or something" you replied, and Alexia's eyebrows rose even farther up on her face. Ordering food out was... your favorite thing. Choosing to eat something from home instead of getting something from a restaurant was unheard of. She had half a mind to check you for a fever, but she was already suspicious that your head was hurting.

She took in your appearance, really looking at you. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if allowing your eyes to be open all the way was too much. You unconsciously rubbed your left temple with your finger, and your jaw was completely clenched. It was clear that you were in pain. Alexia set her phone down, scooting a little closer to you.

"Are you feeling alright?" She asked, bracing herself for your response. Sure enough, your whole body tensed, and she watched your face as all traces of discomfort were wiped away.

"I'm fine, just tired." You assured her, not really aware of how aware she was of how you were feeling. Alexia decided to push, just a little.

"If you're sure. You can tell me if you're not feeling well, cariño. I won't be mad." Her voice was soft, as if she was talking to a cornered animal, and you were suddenly fighting the inexplicable urge to cry. You want to tell her, you really did, but you couldn't. You didn't want to be too much, and you'd already been far too weak in front of her before. You forced yourself to meet her eyes, willing yourself to not feel anything as you took the love and worry she held on her face.

"I'm fine, amor, seriously." You responded, fighting to keep your voice steady. You were careful not to promise anything, not wanting to break it. You were fine. Your head hurt, and the lights made your eyes ache, and the room was starting to spin lightly whenever you moved your head, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You gave Alexia a half smile, and she sighed, smiling back. You could tell she didn't really believe you.

If you were going to be stubborn, you could be stubborn. Alexia was dead set on you coming to her this time, on forcing you to realize that you needed her, and that was okay.

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Alexia put on some random reality show that she insisted she only watched for you, even though she'd let out comments like, "well maybe if you weren't such a douche, derek, everyone wouldn't hate you" completely unprompted. You promised her you'd eat after the episode ended, her food arriving in the middle. Instead, the credits played, and you avoided her eyes as you spoke.

Standing up only slightly unsteadily, you said, "I think I'm gonna go to bed Ale, I'm really tired." The pain in your head had only intensified and you were desperate to escape to your bedroom where you could hide your tears in the pillow. Alexia looked up at you with surprise and concern.

"You haven't eaten anything, y/n, and it's only 8:00."

"I know, I'm really not hungry though. Goodnight baby, I love you." You didn't even kiss her goodnight as you headed to bed, knowing that if you tried to bend over to do so, you'd probably end up face down in her lap. She looked after you, bewildered. She really couldn't understand why you were so reluctant to tell her that you weren't feeling well.

You changed into pajamas and curled up under the covers, surprisingly finding yourself rather sleepy. Your head hurt, a lot, but somehow you felt yourself drifting off.

Alexia tried to stay up till a normal time, but she couldn't resist climbing into bed with you. At least in your sleep, you couldn't push her away from you. So, at 9, she headed into the bedroom, finding you asleep, head buried in her pillow instead of your own. She smiled, taking in the sight of you completely dressed in clothes from her side of the dresser. She was tempted to pull clothes from your side of the dresser as revenge, but instead settled on a pair of her own shorts, and the stupid fuzzy sweatshirt you loved. She didn't like wearing it, and she hated sleeping in it, but the look on your face when she put it on last time, as if you'd maybe begun to understand a fraction of the love that Alexia had for you, was enough to get it on her tonight.

She slid into bed next to you, fitting herself into the small space you'd left her when you'd taken over her pillow. You had the hood of one of her hoodies pulled up, and under it your face was flushed, you looked warm, so she carefully pulled the hood down, allowing fresh air to hit your face and hopefully cool you down. You grumbled slightly, shifting over until you were practically laying on top of your girlfriend. Alexia held in a laugh, and snuggled into you. She felt sleep tugging at her, and she hoped when you both woke up in the morning, you'd feel better.

-----

You didn't. You woke up only a few hours after Alexia had come to bed, in blinding pain. Your head had never hurt this bad before, no migraine had every felt this intense. You knew you should do something, wake Alexia up probably, but you really couldn't move. You were laid on top of Alexia, head tucked into her neck. She was sound asleep, one arm wrapped around you, holding you securely against her. You tried to shift, just a little, but the slight movement intensified the pain in your head, until you were biting your lip to keep from crying out. You couldn't stop the tears, though, and they fell steadily onto Alexia's neck.

Alexia woke to the sensation of something wet on her neck. She was incredibly groggy, and she just barely registered that you were laying against her.

"Why is my neck wet?" She grumbled, speaking in her normal voice, although much more garbled than normal. At the volume of her voice in your ear, you let out a whimper of pain, unable to contain it.

Alexia was fully awake in a second, remembering that you'd gone to bed not feeling well, the sound you'd just made alerting her to the fact that you were silently crying into her skin. She didn't move though, only starting to rub your back softly.

"Hey, bebé, what is it?" she cooed, keeping her voice at a whisper. You didn't respond, shoulder still shaking with silent cries, and she grew even more concerned. "Please tell me what's wrong, I can't help unless you tell me," she pleaded.

The desperation in her voice got to you, and you managed to roll yourself off of her, onto your back, with minimal sounds of discomfort. Alexia rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at you. She kept her touch feather light as the pads of her fingers lightly wiped away the tears on your face.

"Open your eyes for me, please?" You did as she asked, thankful for the darkness. Your face was screwed up with pain, eyes red and puffy from crying. "Now tell me what's hurting," she said, because there was no question you were in pain.

Your bottom lip trembled as you looked up at Alexia, trying to find the words to express what was going on.

"M-my head," you told her, voice breaking as you spoke through your tears. "Migraine. Really bad."

"Oh, bebé, I'm so sorry. What can I get you? Medicine? An ice pack? Anything," she seemed so eager to help, to fix it, and you felt even worse about what you were about to say.

You'd never felt this bad before. You could barely think. What few thoughts you could form, all told you that you needed to go to the hospital. You knew once the words were out of your mouth, Alexia would freak out, and there'd be no going back. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, before speaking.

"Ale, you need to take me to the hospital." She was silent for a few moments, and you opened your eyes again to look at her. The fear painted across her face was horrifying.

Your words stunned her. For you, stubborn, independent you, to tell her she needed to take you to the hospital, you must have been in indescribable pain. She allowed herself to panic for only a moment, before she took a deep breath, and burst into action.

"Okay, hospital, I can do that. Should I call an ambulance?" She tried to sound more put together than she felt.

"No, too loud. Drive me?" You were back to speaking in half sentences. She would drive you, she really would, but she took one look at her hands, shaking uncontrollably in panic, and she knew she shouldn't get behind the wheel of the car. Maybe she should have been better in a crisis, maybe she would have been if it had been anyone else. But it was you, and you were her weakness. She didn't want to worry you, though, and she knew if she said she was panicking too much to drive, you'd worry, even in this state.

"Okay mi amor, let me change, and we'll go." You mumbled an agreement, and she climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone. She headed into the closet, shutting the door behind her before flicking the light on. She dialed quickly hoping to god that Mapi had her ringer on.

"This better be good Putellas, I swear." Mapi's voice came over the line, grumpy and harsh.

"Mapi, I need you to drive me and y/n to the hospital." Alexia felt tears pricking her eyes, and she blinked them away, knowing she needed to keep it together.

"Por qué?!" Mapi responded, sounding much more awake. Alexia heard shuffling over the phone, and a yelp that was probably Mapi waking Ingrid up.

"She has a migraine and she said it's really bad and she needs to go to the hospital."

"She asked to go?" Mapi sounded surprised.

"Si."

"Shit, okay we're coming now, we'll be there in a couple minutes." Like Alexia, Mapi recognized how bad you must have been feeling if you had asked to go to the hospital. Neither of them had ever been so grateful to live so close to each other before.

Alexia headed back into the bedroom, having changed while on the phone into sweatpants and a t-shirt, and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"Mapi's coming to drive us, she'll be here in a minute. I'm gonna pick you up to carry you to the car now, vale?" She whispered the words against your forehead.

You replied with a soft, "Okay," pain lacing your voice. You didn't care that Alexia had called Mapi, you didn't care about anything as long as you didn't have to go in an ambulance with the sirens on. As carefully as one would pick up a newborn baby, Alexia gathered you into her arms, holding you tight against her, carrying you out of the room and to the front door. It opened right as she got to it, and Ingrid was standing in front of her, spare key in hand, hair sleep tousled, but looking alert.

"Take her to the car, I'll grab your wallet and keys," Alexia nodded, sliding on shoes before heading out the door, thanking the universe that she had such good friends. Mapi was waiting by car, pulling the door open, wordlessly helping Alexia slide into the backseat. You sat sideways on Alexia's lap, head tucked back into her neck as your tears hit her skin over and over. You clung to her tightly, hands fisted in her shirt, as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing loudly. The walk to the car had been enough to almost make you pass out, but you'd held on to consciousness.

Ingrid climbed into the front seat then, quietly telling Alexia she'd locked the door behind her. Mapi pulled the car out of the driveway, looking in the rearview mirror every so often, studying your form curled up against Alexia. She'd never seen you like this, and she'd never seen Alexia this panicked either. Ingrid was thinking the same thing, and she reached a hand back, giving Alexia's knee a squeeze.

"Everything is gonna be fine, the doctors will know what to do, they'll fix her up fast." Ingrid kept her voice low and reassuring. Alexia nodded, slightly frantically, holding you tighter against her.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, Mapi taking care to drive as carefully as possible, since every jerk the car made caused a whimper of pain to spill from your lips. Alexia paid no attention to the dark city passing her by, her only focus on you in her arms.

Mapi pulled the car right up in front of the doors to the emergency room, and Ingrid was flying out of the car, opening up the door and helping Alexia get you out. Mapi drove off to park the car, while Ingrid walked the two of you inside. Luckily, it was pretty empty, and the nurses ushered Alexia to put you down on a bed in a room almost instantly. She explained the situation, as you were clearly in too much pain to speak, and the nurses were nodding, hooking you up to all sorts of things, before telling Alexia to wait in the waiting room until they had run some tests.

She hesitated, looking desperately at you. You looked so small in the hospital bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut against the harsh lights, hands balled into fists. There were 5 people working over you, all seemed calm and not worried, but Alexia still had to fight the urge to climb into the bed with you, and pull you into your arms until you stopped crying. She felt a hand on her arm, tugging her into the hallway.

"C'mon. She'll be okay, you need to let them work though." Ingrid stated, encouraging Alexia to follow her out into the hall. With one last look at you, she let Ingrid pull her out of the room and walk her back to the waiting room. They found Mapi there, arguing with the nurse at the desk, trying to figure out where you went.

Alexia took a seat in a chair, sighing heavily, and burying her face in her hands. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a look, taking seats on either side of their captain. Mapi rested her hand on Alexia's back, and was startled when she heard Alexia sniffle into her hands.

Ingrid rolled her eyes at the look on Mapi's face, who looked completely stunned to see her best friend crying. Sure, Alexia never cried, ever, but this situation definitely warranted it.

"She's gonna be fine, Ale. She's in a lot of pain, but thats how migraines work. They'll give her something for it, make sure nothing else is going on, and discharge her." Ingrid told her, clearly trying to make Alexia feel better.

"She's right. Y/n has had a stressful month, this is just her body reacting to it. She'll be fine." Mapi continued, pulling herself together enough to comfort her friend.

Alexia lifted her head then, and both other girls wanted to cry themselves at the look on her face.

"I've never seen her in that much pain before. And for her to ask me to take her to the hospital, she must have been in so much pain." Alexia's voice was shaking when she spoke, wiping her face with her hands to rid it of tears. Mapi and Ingrid looked at her sympathetically.

"I know, but they've probably already got her all drugged out, she's probably not even in any pain anymore. She's funny on pain meds, remember when she got her wisdom teeth out?" Mapi tried to lighten the mood. Alexia smiled slightly, remembering how goofy you'd been. Her friends had helped, she felt marginally better.

And Mapi was right. The doctors had ruled out any serious brain issues, and given you a nice big dose of painkillers. You felt the ache in your head fade as you yourself drifted off again. Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped they'd let Alexia back soon, and that she'd brought the fuzzy sweatshirt she wore to bed, because you were kind of cold.

-----

When you woke, it took you a few minutes to remember where you were. Your brain felt heavy, but not in the painful way it had before. You tried to blink your eyes open, but they weren't really cooperating yet. You tried to bring a hand up to rub at them, only to find that you couldn't move your right arm at all. Using your left hand, despite the IV, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, and cracked them open. You looked down to see what had taken your arm hostage, and found Alexia passed out on it. Her cheek was smushed up against your sheets, both arms wrapped around your one, while her hand somehow held tightly to yours.

You were suddenly overwhelmed; by both the love you felt for the girl laying at your bedside, and the love you felt from her. Tears sprung to your eyes again, and you sighed, slightly annoyed with the amount you'd been crying recently. She stirred at the slight sound you made, eyes blinking open, slightly confused, before she shot straight up in her seat. Her hands released yours, and they hovered frantically over you, as her mouth opened and closed. She was groggy from sleep, and alarmed that you were crying, and her brain was not moving fast enough to decide on a course of action. It would have been funny if she hadn't looked so panicked.

She found her voice then, raising her hands to cradle your cheeks. "Are you in pain? Why are you crying? I should call the doctor, let me find a nurse," her words came out a mile a minute, and you smiled at her, placing your hands over hers.

"Relax, amor. I'm not in pain, sit back down." She looked at you doubtfully, slowly sitting back in her chair.

"If you aren't in pain, why are you crying?" She asked. She was surprised when you blushed, no longer meeting her eyes.

"I just woke up and you were here with me, and... I don't know. It was overwhelming. In a good way. I just love you, a lot." You stuttered through the sentence, before lifting your eyes to meet hers again. her gaze had softened, and you melted at the look on her face.

She pulled you in then, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. She pulled back after a minute, peppering little kisses all across your face until you were laughing, and she had cracked a smile. Quickly, though, her face turned serious again.

"Of course I was here when you woke up. Where else would I be?" She asked, seeming genuinely unsure of where else she would possibly have been.

"I don't know. You still surprise me sometimes, with how much you care. I don't always expect it." You responded. You weren't sure if you were just feeling sappy, or if the drugs were making you talk, but you found yourself overly willing to be honest with her.

"Bebé, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well last night?" She replied, eyes searching yours.

"I didn't want to bother you, you were tired too. And, I guess I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?"

You took a deep breath, picking at a stray thread of the thin blanket laying across your legs. "Worried that if I let you see me like that, all weak, you won't want me anymore. Why would you want to take care of me?"

Alexia was quiet after you spoke, and you made yourself look back up at her. She looked like she was thinking hard.

"Nothing you could ever do would be too much for me. Nothing. Not being sick, or in pain, or sad, or angry. I want you just as much then as I do when you're happy. And I always want to take care of you. You are mi niña bonita y perfecta. I want everything with you, even the stuff that isn't so fun." She spoke slowly, determined that you catch every word. "Okay?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and nodded. "Okay. I promise to try to do better, and let you help me." You figured it was the least you could do, after the little speech she just made. A speech that made you want to run home and grab the ring you'd hidden in the back of your closet, and ask her, right then and there.

Alexia smiled, satisfied, leaning in to kiss you again. You asked her what the doctor had said, and she told you that he thought you hadn't rested enough after the last migraine, and you'd obviously been extra stressed recently. That, combined with the lack of sleep you'd been getting due to early trainings and late nights filled with... other forms of exercise with Alexia, had compounded to give you the migraine you'd experienced.

He recommended a neurologist, who could help you manage them, and also that you find a better way to deal with your stress than... not dealing with it at all. You were free to go once the drugs wore off though. Alexia made you promise to see the neurologist before she brought up the topics of visitors.

"Ingrid and Mapi are still in the waiting room. They were both pretending not to be worried but Mapi has been pacing pretty much since we got here, and Ingrid's gotten all snippy, the way she does when she's worried." You laughed, picturing the scene clearly. You told her to go get them, and she left to do so.

While she was gone, you thought about that ring in your closet again. You had big plans for it over the summer, but you wondered if maybe you couldn't wait until then. You might have to plan something sooner, or risk blurting it out while waiting for the right time. Either way, you were more sure than ever that Alexia was it for you, and more convinced that you'd ever been that you were it for her.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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runnning-outof-time · 10 months

Note

I believe that “Are you jealous?” is the last available prompt 😅 Do your magic with it, K 🤗 With Tommy, please and happy 3.5 K 😘

Thanks for sending this in, Isa! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it…..I hope you like the path I chose for it. This prompt was requested 3 times, so I’m trying to give it a little variety. Out of the 3 brothers, Tommy feels like he’d be the one to go about it in this way…he’s a bit of a jerk in this one. Alright, enough with the talking…Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

I’m Walking Home

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, use of derogatory word (whore), (Y/N)’s a bit unhinged in this one

Word Count: 999

Summary: (Y/N) decides to walk home after a question that Tommy asks makes her anger soar.

Tommy had had enough. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and killed the engine, setting both of his hands on his thighs as he let out a harsh sigh. “Alright…what is it?” he asked the woman sitting to his left.

“What is what?” (Y/N) responded with a curt question of her own, her eyes focused on the road ahead of them.

“You’ve not spoken a word to me since we started driving. What’s on your mind?” he elaborated on his previous question. (Y/N) snorted in response.

“Of course you’d be completely oblivious to it,” she stated, her words dripping with sarcasm. Even though she’d yet to look at him, she could still feel his heavy eyes boring into the side of her face. Her statement was met with silence, and she let it ring for a few moments before letting out a scoff. Bastard wants me to spell it out for him, she thought to herself as she relented and finally looked in his direction. “You really don’t know?” she asked, giving one last chance to redeem himself before she went off on him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did,” he answered her in his typical, abrupt fashion.

“You don’t recall the woman at the party?” she tried to jog his memory with a more specific question.

“What woman?” he still wasn’t helping himself.

“The woman that was practically hanging on you; the one looking for your attention? You didn’t seem to notice her? And the fact that she was giving you the ‘please fuck me’ eyes for the entirety of the conversation you were having, whilst I was present?!” she finally let the levee break, her voice inflecting towards the end to let her frustration become known.

“She was discussing business, (Y/N),” came Tommy’s terrible response.

“Business?! What part of her fucking giggles and the batting of her eyelashes had to do anything with your fucking business, Tommy?!”

“Her husband’s money is good. His investment will help our company, and she plays a big part in deciding who he gives it to. So I didn’t take notice to what her fucking eyelashes were doing because that was not of any fucking importance,” he kept his voice level, delivering his statement in a stoic way. He knew better than to rise to meet her level of anger.

“Oh and she’s got a husband!” she exclaimed dramatically, completely disregarding the second half of his statement.

“(Y/N),” there was a warning tone present in his voice now. She was blowing this out of porportion.

“She’s fucking married, and her husband cares about what she thinks before he throws his money around, but yet he doesn’t care that she’s acting like a whore in front of his potential business partners,” (Y/N) broke into a rant, not caring at that moment that she was basically disparaging a woman who she did not know.

At this point, there was nothing that could be done that would quickly clear this up. Her anger was too elevated for that. But there was something that could be said to make this situation so much worse.

“Are you jealous?” Tommy blatantly asked. His question had (Y/N) seeing red.

“Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief, shock quickly filling her features. She spoke in such a way that would usually make most people rescind their statement, but Tommy wasn’t like most people.

“You’re jealous of this woman, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes flitting over to match hers then as he waited for her answer.

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to ask such a question outright. A scoff left her lips as she tried to find the words to respond to his statement. Her mind wasn’t computing.

A few tense moments passed before she swung the car door open. Without saying anything, she snatched her purse from the seat and made a move to exit the vehicle.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked, acting as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her with the last question. He honestly probably didn’t think he did.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” she snapped at him, sending a glare his way before she slammed the car door shut, not caring at all how expensive the vehicle was. And if looks could kill, there would have been a dead man inside the car with the shattered door.

(Y/N) stormed off down the road, not knowing - nor caring - where she was going. The car’s engine came to life behind her, but it didn’t make her break her step, and she didn’t dare look to her right as Tommy pulled up beside her.

“What the fuck are you doing, (Y/N)?” he asked, glancing between her and the road as he continued to drive beside her.

“I’m walking home,” she snapped back at him, still looking straight ahead, “as a matter of fact…I’m not even sure where I’m walking to, but I sure as hell know that I don’t want to be around you right now. So leave me.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Leave me,” she cut him off, finally looking at him so that she could send him one more deadly glare before she continued on her way.

Tommy put his foot on the brake and thought for a moment. There wasn’t anything more he could do now. His efforts would only make the situation worse. With a sigh, he ran his hand along the back of his head before he took his foot off the brake and continued down the road.

(Y/N) watched as the tail-lights faded off into the distance. She let out a huff and tried to calm herself down. Was she acting jealous at the moment? Yeah, probably. But she wouldn’t give Tommy the satisfaction of answering the question he so blatantly asked. She was just lucky that it was still warm out.

I’m adding taglists in reblogs in hopes that people will actually be tagged.

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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wynnyfryd · 11 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 21

part 1 | part 20 | ao3

“Right?” Steve asks, scratching his head as he glances back at the door.

“No, I meant you, dingus! What the fuck was that with you?”

Steve feels his face go hot. “What? What do you mean?”

She throws her hands in the air, stomping over so she can get in his face and say, “Don’t ‘what do you mean’ me. Your faces” —she lifts her hands like she’s about to applaud, palms hovering an inch apart— “were like thiiis close to just…”

She claps them together, and Steve feels the blood drain right back out of his face, dread pooling in his gut as she twists her palms this way and that, like two people tilting their heads to kiss deeper. Oh, god. Oh, god. Were they—?

“Mwah,” Robin says helpfully, mashing her hands more tightly together. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah—”

Steve grabs her by the wrist. “Dude. Stop.”

She drops her hands and stares at him — one of those Detective Buckley looks, combing over every inch of his soul for missed clues — and then her mouth does some horribly self-satisfied thing that he hates. “If I didn’t know any better,” she draws, “I’d say someone has a crush.”

I’d say someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a crush someone has a

Steve’s gonna pass out. The words feel like bile in his brain, acidic and sharp; like puking right after chugging a glass of orange juice. It’s not like he’s—

Look, he knows that he’s— but—

The bell dings. Thank fucking Christ. A big family group, three generations of people talking and laughing and fussing over a baby in a stroller and carrying leftovers from the Italian place down the strip.

Steve sags in relief.

Robin hisses in his ear, “We are so not done talking about this.”

—

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

About Eddie, about the word Robin lobbed at him like a lit bottle rocket, about any of it.

Just thinking about it is giving him a stomach ulcer and a migraine and maybe an aneurysm, too.

He was hoping he made that obvious enough during the last hour of their shift that Robin would just drop it, but that girl has never dropped a single thing in her life. Worse than Nancy, the little bloodhound. Steve saw this documentary once about crocodiles; remembers how they can lock their jaws shut after clamping down on their prey with up to 4000 PSI of pressure.

That’s enough pressure to cut a person’s arm off with a jet of water.

Damn, nature’s cool.

“Steve!”

You know who’s not cool?

“Steve!” Robin hollers again over the song he’s currently blasting to drown her out on the drive home. “Steve, you can’t use ABBA against me like this!”

Steve ignores her protests, responds by shout-singing “DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN, OOH OOOOOH” at her in his most nasal falsetto because he absolutely can and will use ABBA against her like this, and it works like a charm. He’s pretty sure this song has, like, hypnotic power over her or something, because every time without fail she gives the answering “ooh-oo-oo-ooh-ooh-oooooh” as if on auto-pilot.

“HEY!” she shouts when she realizes what she’s doing. “No sir!” She reaches over and mashes the volume button.

Silence falls over the car. Sucks the air out of Steve’s lungs in the sudden void; his ears adjust slowly, picking up the quiet thrum of the engine, the whispered whoosh of the wind outside. Is he ever going to get used to being kind-of-sort-of-deaf? This shit sucks.

“...Okay, look,” Robin says tentatively. She’s staring at the side of his head, and he keeps his eyes on the road; tightens his grip on the wheel. “We don’t have to talk about you, okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about with me.”

“Right!” she rushes to agree. Playing along like they don’t both know that’s bullshit. “Totally.”

Steve risks a glance at her. Her expression is earnest, some full-paragraph silent communication like: whatever bathroom-floor-confessional crisis you’re having, we can leave it alone for now. We can let it stay hidden in the dark corners for a little longer; I promise I’ll put my flashlight down.

“Totally,” Steve echoes, nodding at her.

“Okay. Cool. Cool…”

She lets out a long breath, cheeks puffing out as she sits on her hands. Oh, my god, just spit it out. “Can we please talk about him, though?”

—

part 22

tag list pt. 1 below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow (heads up i'm not tagging any new under 21 or ageless blogs unless we’re mutuals or you dm me to verify your age. gonna purge this list when i get some free time)

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #robin buckley #platonic stobin

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angelfoxx · 1 year

Text

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ A DIFFERENT NAME. ❞

…what they (endearingly) call you.

FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, keegan p russ

WARNINGS: suggestive + mild nsfw. mild. also implied fem!reader for keegan’s part

NOTE/S: i love keegan so fucking much i want to plant my face between his legs and mash my face into his lap

★ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.

✦ For a while, nothing. The progression is your callsign, to your last name, and then to your first name, and then it kind of stops there, because that’s a lot.

✦ At some point, probably when you two are casually working together — not on the field but just back at base, maybe you’re doing chores or something of the like — maybe he’s feeling a little sappy, or maybe he’s just a little tired, but either way, he’s not gatekeeping his words. He’s not watching himself.

✦ You pass him a mug of tea, and he takes it with a grunt and “thanks, love.”

✦ Absolute fucking silence.

✦ He stumbles into a short apology, and you almost fall over yourself trying to tell him that it’s okay and actually it’s really endearing and you really like being called that. He actually argues against you, cites safety as one of the reasons that he can’t call you that and get used to calling you that — and then, at some point, he runs out of rebuttals and all that’s left is the fact that you want him to keep calling you that.

✦ It takes him a long time to get comfortable with it, but over time, “love” becomes his new nickname of choice for you. At some point, he seems to say it more than he addresses you by your actual name. In public, he doesn’t usually call for you by name, and if he does, it’s your last name or maybe your first name. In private, he eventually almost solely refers to you as love. He also does it excessively. “G’morning, love. You tired, love? That one’s yours, love.” Et cetera.

★ JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.

✦ Because he’s the way he is, chances are you’re being called by a nickname more than you’re being called by your name. And not necessarily, like, lovey-dovey ones.

✦ He’ll call you by your callsign on missions, right? And then you get back to base afterward and you’re both still sweaty and gross and he’ll come over and clap you on the back and go “that’s how it’s fuckin’ done, sugartits!” and you get to respond in kind by calling him whatever stupid nickname you can think of. “Dickweed” makes him laugh.

✦ At some point in the relationship, though, you guys don’t just fuck around 24/7. To be clear, the stupid nicknames are always going to stick around and the entire base knows that the two of you seem to be in a headlock over who can come up with the worse one, but as time goes on, there are genuine sweet ones thrown in.

✦ “Baby” is his favorite. Horrendously basic considering that he mashes words up for the most abhorrent nicknames he can make up, but he seems to like the simple shortness of it. It slips off of his tongue so nicely and it seems like, while his stupid nicknames make him laugh, “baby” makes him smile like an idiot.

✦ He’s most prone to using it in private (it’s deliciously low and gravelly when he’s got his eyes lidded and mouth curved into a wicked smirk and he’s knelt so casually between your legs) or in public. Especially if it’s a night where everyone is training or gaming. Any sort of situation in which you can beat someone else, he’s calling you by it. “Get ‘im, baby!” “Fuck ‘im up, baby.” Things like that. If/when you win in sparring matches or poker or whatever the fuck else, he’s very prone to celebrating on your behalf and referring to you as “my fuckin’ baby/girl/boy”.

★ KEEGAN P RUSS.

✦ this man could call me whatever the fuck he wants and i’d go weak in the knees. he could call me shitbrains in that sexy fucking voice of his and id be like yes yes shitbrains is me that’s me can I choke on your dick sir can i gargle your balls can i

✦ He really likes to call you by your last name. He makes a point out of using it as much as he can. If you have a callsign, he usually disregards it and just continues to call you by your last name. If you ask him about it, he’ll play dumb. and he’ll be biting back a smirk and then you’ll get on your knees and suck him off cause why haven’t you started doing that already

✦ Eventually, though, he might feel inclined to tease you. He’s obviously not opposed to doing the dirty work for the Ghosts — he’ll climb through sewers, stake out in muddy creeks, et cetera. If you make a comment about those environments to him, he’s prone to laughing at you and then, god damn the man, he’ll tease. “Not good enough for you, princess?”

✦ You sort of freeze up. He notices your hesitation and briefly thinks it’s because he’s possibly incurred a friendly fight but no, it’s because of that fucking name. Keegan’s blessed with the ability to fluster you very easily and so him calling you fucking princess has you sort of stumbling over yourself.

✦ He tortures you with it. Tortures you. He calls you princess or doll (because both make you sound little and weak, and he loves trying to get under your skin) when there are other people almost within earshot. He knows they can’t hear him — he’s insanely perceptive. You don’t know that, though, and so when you’re gearing up for a mission and he stoops down on his walk by and tells you that “you got a smudge on your cheek, princess”, he almost cackles upon your eyes going wide and your response being to immediately scold him for it. He’ll keep it coolly professional on public comms, but he’s tormenting you with it when you’re face-to-face or on a channel exclusive to the two of you.

✦ He tortures you with it in the best way. He does. Because he’s calling you princess while you two are working and he’s calling you princess when he’s looking to get a rise out of you but he’s also calling you princess when he’s got you bound so expertly in his private barracks and he’s also calling you princess when you’re straddling him in the driver’s seat of one of the repossessed armored cars and—

✦ LORD

#cod smut #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod soap #cod keegan #ghost x reader #ghost smut #soap x reader #soap smut #keegan x reader #keegan p russ #keegan russ #KEEGAN OWNS MY ASS #OH MT FUCKING GF

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atxxzist · 6 months

Text

sweetest lies | c.s (03)

prev // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.7k

warning: none but lmk

you didn't want to go home because you knew that you'd have to face your sister.

look her in the eyes and see those very lips that yunho kissed and those hands that he probably held on more than one occasions, the wound still too fresh that it all still hurts.

but you didn't think you'd run smack into her before you could even pass the entrance, stopping in your steps immediately with surprised eyes similar to hers, the both of you swallowing down the same time as the air turn an awkward one.

you're about to just walk past her, the day from work leaving you tired and not in the mood for another long conversation about the topic, when your sister musters up the courage to let out a soft, "can we please talk?"

the tone aggravating you more than anything; how she can still sound so sweet and worried after what she's put you through.

you huff and merely roll your eyes, absolutely refusing to look at her although you know it's silly and petty--you being the older one but holding a grudge like no other, so much more less mature than her.

"i don't know what else is there to talk about," you respond, trying your very best to sound annoyed.

but she continues to make you feel worse with an even sweeter tone, "i'm sorry. i really am." and you can already picture the pearls in her eyes and pout on her lips despite still facing the other way.

"i know you like yunho. i do. but..." he's too handsome and charming; too sweet and kind that she also can't help but fall for him. she would never intend to steal him from you if he didn't return the sentiment.

"but he likes you too," you finish for her, something shifting in you that makes you finally look her in the eyes. "i get it. what am i gonna do? you're two grown consenting adults so i'll get over it."

you didn't even think such words could ever come out your mouth, but for the first time sounding surprisingly selfless because maybe talking to san did helped out a little.

there's a silence after that you're sure has marked the end of the topic, striving a step forward when her voice stops you again.

"we're planning on telling mom and dad and yunho's parents over dinner..." she says, delivery timid like she's just the slightest scared of your reaction.

you gulp down the knot, mumbling a dry, "good luck with that." and sliding past her.

you start seeing how truly mundane your life is once the person it used to revolve around is no longer there.

how, it’s a continuous cycle of work and coming home to a big empty house most days and watching reruns of shows until you’re bored out of your mind.

which is how you wind up at a co-worker’s house party, the young woman from the office next to you going by the name of dahyun kindly asking after a conversation with your boss about the paperworks regarding the transfer.

she joined the firm a few months after you but you’ve always known her to be outgoing and a people’s person, recalling the girl’s familiarity with everyone from the floor her second week of work.

it wasn’t like you had anything better to do, so you accepted the invitation and saved the following day for a night of fun, or at least you hoped so.

dahyun had said it’s just gonna be a regular house party; none of that crazy frat bullshit with the chance of someone under 20 attending, so it’s just gonna be chill and relaxing.

fives minutes into your arrival and it’s not too bad but you already find yourself hiding in a corner despite recognizing a few faces from the same working floor.

“if you’re gonna be here, you should at least try and have some fun.”

the familiar sounding voice from behind makes you quirk a brow, barely looking over your shoulder to see, probably the least expected person standing with amusement in his expression.

“seonghwa?” you say in disbelief, your body naturally following your curiosity to stand before him. “the fuck you doing here?”

“attending the party, isn’t that obvious?” he quips, continuing to close the gap before stopping with just enough space.

you scoff and roll your eyes, the sight bringing a smirk onto seonghwa’s lips.

“shut up. you know what i mean.”

“dahyun’s a friend,” he says casually, the answer making you squint.

“seriously? hongjoong and now you?” the complaint rolling off like it’s seonghwa’s fault. you can only cross your arms and sulk.

you can’t even recall the last time you actually saw seonghwa. it must’ve been your graduation or one last coincidental meeting… you don’t remember. it’s been that long.

“yeah, cause you have better things to do?” he pokes fun at the very obvious fact you came alone. “where’s that jeong boy? you know, the one that always got you on a leash.”

between hongjoong and seonghwa, seonghwa’s always been the more calm and level-headed of the two; being the voice of reason when you and hongjoong would lose it.

but on the occasion when he’d just let it go and be snarky, seonghwa could really pull a nerve.

“is that all people associate me with?” you have the audacity to click your tongue in annoyance and scoff like you didn’t do it to yourself.

seonghwa snickers.

“oh i’m sorry. it was just my most recent memory of you,” he says cheekily. voice calm but you know there’s hidden animosity underneath.

he never explicitly said whose side he took, but it was obvious from how he treated you the same as hongjoong did. it only made sense because they’ve known each other before you even came along.

you never fault him, knowing it mostly had to do with your own fuck-ups.

“hmm,” you hum, tone setting into the same sarcastic and dry one he has. “well, it’s nice catching up and all but i don't feel like reminiscing the past, so if you’ll excuse me.”

because you can admit your wrongdoings and also be both embarrassed about it, attempting to brush past him when his speaking voice stops you in track.

“hey, i was just trying to find something to talk about after all these years,” he says, half chuckling and staring at you from the opposite side now that you’ve managed to make it past him.

you snicker lowly.

“what?” you quirk a corner of your lips, continuing with amusement in your voice, “then you’re gonna say sorry? or expect me to?”

he shrugs.

"that's your choice."

but his body language now shifting, that playful look no longer in his eyes or tone, it's almost scary how fast it happened.

the next few seconds is a silent stare off, the only sound is the party music in the background and the slight beating of your heart at the ominous delivery.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying... your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

seonghwa thinks you have too much pride; the same thing you believe to be keeping you intact is gonna be your ultimate downfall because even when you're clearly wrong or you know you're wrong, you never say it.

you're one to keep it bubbled inside and carry the guilt just because you think you should be unbreakable at all times. it's such an unrealistic standard you've set for yourself.

you raise a brow at that, tilting your head in confusion.

"i know how to say sorry," you tell him sternly, attempting to convince him as much as you are to yourself.

“i’m uhm… i’m sorry,” you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can’t believe it.

“pardon?”

“i’m sorry, about this morning.”

it's beyond comprehension how san must've been the first person you've genuinely apologized to after going so many years of the word kept to yourself.

it must've been the absolute humiliation and loneliness that day that really got to you, breaking you down until you were so vulnerable with nothing but the choice to fold in front of the one person you felt you could still confide in.

san being that person is also beyond what you can explain.

but seonghwa only merely puffs and crosses his arms.

"i just think it would be great if we could be friends again one day," he says, the ominous dropping and voice turning soft and reminiscing again that it makes your eyes go wide before you see a smile turn up on his lips.

"if you ever want to reach out to me or hongjoong again, you know how to find us."

he leaves his last words of the night opened and vague, disappearing off with one last smile before he's out of your sight, leaving you with much to think about--just exactly as he intended.

there's only so much excuses to make or places to be after work just because you don't want to be there for dinner, knowing it's the day both yunho and your sister are gonna tell your parents and his the good news.

know that they're all gonna react with surprise and be so happy for them, erupting in cheers and congratulatory words that the two children they've been rooting for the longest time has finally gotten together.

there really isn't a lot, that you just sucked it up and stayed the few extra hours overtime to make up for all the instances you've slacked off, even starting on work saved for the following day, hoping it's long enough to just miss the dinner.

and just enough it is, you return right as the table's just about to be cleared, the chitters and chatters around loud enough to drown the opening and shutting of the front door with yunho the only one catching your presence standing in the hall.

"they were really happy, yeah..." he says awkwardly, standing before you in the cold chilly air of the backyard.

you really didn't want to talk about it anymore, the subject like beating a dead horse at this point. but yunho had approached you so cautiously and calmly, something genuine in his action that you couldn't say no when he asked to talk for one last time.

"hmm," you merely hum, really not made for comforting or encouraging. most of the anger already dissipated although the hurt's still there, you can't bring yourself to not feel even the slightest happy for him, even if the smallest percentage because you saw the biggest smile ever on him back at dinner.

you contemplate on what to say because yes, you're still hurt and feeling betrayed, but it's not like you can hold it over his head forever. he isn't some stranger you can easily avoid.

he's yunho and you're just gonna have to get over it; not just for his sake but also for yours just so you can feel a little more at peace and move on.

"i'm sorry," he suddenly let out, your head snapping from the ground and to his guilt-ridden eyes.

because though he still stands by what he said, not a single word a lie, the few days apart also allowed him to think outside of the box--especially from your perspective.

how selfish he really was from the start, playing along when he was being dishonest the entire time, and how much pain he could've saved everyone if he hadn't been such a coward.

if he hadn't wanted the best of both worlds and knew he would lose you in some way if you found out how he actually feels.

you have to blink a few times, feeling like a lost puppy under yunho's apologetic gaze because you honestly believe that in comparison, you have so much more to be sorry for.

and as if he could read your mind; your expression speaking for itself because you have a certain look of bafflement or aloofness whenever you feel guilty.

you won't ever say outright that you're wrong, but your body language always gave it out.

it was one of the very first traits he picked up from being around you, having seen it for himself at the starting age of twelve when you pushed a much younger san to his injury and cried--not because you got yelled at by your parents but because you felt bad.

and how distracted you were at the movies the entire time after your fight with hongjoong because you confessed to yunho a few days later that you were being a shitty friend.

you have such a way of dealing with your emotions, he wishes for there to be an outlet for you to deal with them in a healthy and accepting manner.

one that doesn't depend on him or anything else for all the wrong reasons.

"i'm sorry," he says again, eyes now softer but still sincere. "i know i already said this last time but i really got carried away and couldn't finish. but i truly am sorry. i should've told you sooner. i should've never given you any sort of false hope, and i should've just been honest from the start."

he's sure he's out of breath when he finishes, just waiting for you to now say something in return because despite all the ups and downs and shortcomings, you're the one who's been with him through most of his lowest points and he's so grateful for that.

he wouldn't want to lose you over this.

you stay quiet for a few seconds more, a mental battle in your head just so you'll be able to form something coherent when you do speak.

"we both just weren't right for each other," you say, pausing briefly, "in that way... at least."

because yunho hid things from you and you were so in your head you were convinced he was in love with you at one point, always looking at everything through a rose-coloured glass but now able to see for yourself once it cracked, just how destined it was to fail from the start.

"sorry," he mumbles, low and head still hanging in shame, you can't help the dry chuckle that falls from your lips.

"you don't have to keep telling me you're sorry. like what i told minjeong: i'll get over it."

he picks his head up from the more cheery tone, the smallest smile forming on your lips that takes him by surprise because of the illusion it gives off; that you were able to come to terms with it so fast, but he knows you and knows it's all just a facade.

nonetheless, he nods, gulping silently to pass a comment.

"i hope you're taking care of yourself."

you smile, turning your back on him and crossing your arms to stare up into the stars in the nightsky who's currently the witness to the end of your 'relationship' with the boy you've loved your whole life.

"i've considered transferring work. it's not set in stone yet, but i did talked to my boss and he said he'd help me look for an opening if i'm interested."

you think it will be good if you can seek your own independence for once, unable to think of a better time than this one.

and though you can't see yunho, you can tell he's intrigued by how his question squeaks slightly when asking.

"where would you be transferring?"

"japan," you answer, once again facing him. "it's different, but close enough where i don't have to feel like i'm halfway across the world. my boss said i have about two months-ish to make up my mind."

plus, japanese is the only other language you're fluent in. the country a similar but new enough experience and the true testimony to how you'll be, away from the grasp of your parents.

"i see," yunho replies, nodding in understanding; so much to say but at the same time unable to say anything. he wouldn't ever want to hear someone he's close to plans on moving away, but he's almost proud of you for taking that next step.

"feel free to call me up any time if you need help," he adds, a soft smile gracing his features that makes the moment so bittersweet. you wish you have the guts to hate yunho, but you really can't after all he's done for you.

you nod lightly, at the same time allowing yourself to enjoy the breeze and calm silence before letting all your guards down.

"yunho..." you call his name almost timidly, the boy responding that immediate second.

"i'm not asking for an apology or whatever. frankly, it wasn't even my problem, but i'm just saying… your life would be a lot easier if you know how to say sorry for once."

"i'm sorry," you finally tell him, to wide and surprised eyes--unsurprisingly.

"i'm sorry for putting so much pressure and baggage on you. i also should've asked about your feelings from the very beginning. i shouldn't have just... assumed."

yunho knows it's the sincerest form of apology without the need to say a lot. from the nervous timbre to the guilt in your eyes, and even the way you start fiddling with your fingers.

he only snickers, much to your initial mixed reaction until you start warming up to it as well, the low but very real giggle leaving you putting a smile on yunho's face.

"apology accepted," he says.

you allow another giggle before cutting it short and looking at him through your blinking lashes.

"if you guys have went to this extent, then i hope you'll treat her right, jeong yunho."

you leave the night at that, a sting in your chest but you know that soon enough, you'll be relieved of it and you won't even think about him anymore.

it's after sitting down for a few minutes that you get a text from san, the funny coincidence that you were just talking about the transfer with your boss as well.

san: yunho told me

san: it's true you're gonna be leaving for japan?

you honestly can't recall how san even got your number. it must've been something you did drunkenly or he must've asked for it from yunho. but for sure, you did not give it to him willingly.

y/n: he really be snitching, huh

san: so it's true ☹️

you roll your eyes and try preventing even the smallest smirk. you haven't seen the man ever since that day and now is when he decides to reach out again.

y/n: maybe 🤷

san: 😔

san: just when we were starting to get along too

y/n: lol. you'll be fine.

shaking your head, you put your phone down to return to work, thinking to yourself there's no way san's actually serious because you're sure even if you did move halfway across the world, he would barely notice you're gone.

ten minutes of silence from your phone and you're also sure he's given up on the act--when your notification buzzes again.

san: ☹️ thought you weren't gonna run away

y/n: i'm not

y/n: i just want to do something different

san: if you say so

san: you free this evening?

y/n: i get off work in about 3 hours

san: wanna do something? 🙂

y/n: well aren't you a changed man 🙃

san: i thought it was nice the other day and i just figured you might need a distraction

you have to admit the fact you were taken aback a little; in a surprisingly good and touching way that san would care about you so much as to consider the after effect of what have happened.

y/n: if you're up for it 🤷 not like i have anything better after work

san: awesome! i'll see you then 😉

it's not everyday that you go waltzing into a guy's place; if at all, actually, because you've ever only graced the presence of the house next door because unlike san, yunho never had the urge to get his own place or be away from the watchful eyes of his parents.

it only takes two knocks in total for the door to come apart with san standing before it, a smile on his face and every body language welcoming.

"that was fast," you comment, walking past him to get inside.

"i was waiting," he says, calm and relaxed. "you took a lot longer than you said you would."

you shrug and plop yourself down on the couch, head snapping his way to reply.

"i had to get out of my work outfit."

he acknowledges it with a nod before seating himself next to you, his phone sitting on the coffee table in front of you gone unnoticed until you see him pick it up.

"what to order?" he scrolls through the delivery app, the same time you quirk a brow.

"stew sounds really good right now," you say.

"soft tofu stew?"

"that's fine. but make it spicy."

you weren't sure what you guys were gonna be doing once you came over, but he had just said to hang out and you thought any form of entertainment was better than none.

"any drinks?" he asks, after placing the order and getting up to walk over to the fridge.

"got any sodas?"

"i got some coke."

"that'll do."

he returns with two bottles, setting it on the table with a smirk stickered on his face, you have to reframe from rolling your eyes.

"what? no alcohol tonight?" he teases, his back falling onto the couch with hands behind his head.

"not in the mood," you reply, straight and simple.

"fair enough," he mumbles.

you let your eyes wander for a few more seconds before asking, "so, what's the plan?"

he gets up to sit straight and look you in the eyes.

"i was thinking a movie, video games, or we can just talk over food."

you hum with straighten lips, nodding and making yourself at home when it's your turn to fall back on the couch.

"anything's fine," you tell him, patting at the material under you and adding, "great couch by the way."

"yeah. it cost a fortune."

"good thing that wasn't a problem," you jab lightheartedly, because you always have wondered what the hell san does all day, besides the very obvious fact that he lives off the wealth of his parents and doesn't have to worry about anything when it comes to money... at least.

"i know what you're thinking," he says, not reactive of any kind.

"no but seriously, what do you do all day?" you ask, genuinely curious and interested this time.

he just quirks his lips, responding in the most lax tone, "enjoying life and doing what anyone in their 20s would?"

you scoff and shake your head.

you really do wish to be as untroubled and carefree as san is. the way he deals with and confronts everything as if there isn't a single thing to lose.

“it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn’t see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i’m proud of what he’s achieved so far, and he’s always had my back when needed.”

you almost can't help but to have the tiniest respect for him in that regard.

"good to know." you giggle. "but what's the plan after?"

"working on it. but not really in the hurry to rush it or anything."

you nod courtly at that, another sinking thought about how similar, yet different the two of you really are.

growing up, you've never really paid much attention to san, always writing him off as annoying and obnoxious, but when left with no choice but to face him on a deeper level, you can't help but to notice the stark differences despite relating to him more than yunho.

"and you... are you really moving? like forreal?" he says, tone a soft worried that you almost want to believe he would be sad about you leaving... being this adamant and all.

"yeah," you answer, the disappointment befalling his expression completely flying over your radar. "forreal."

"but why?" he pushes.

you shrug, everything about you relaxed--as opposed to the boy standing across as he tries to digest the very big possibility of you going away, and most likely for a long time.

"i told you i wanted to travel."

"that's moving to a whole different country," he states the obvious, much to a laughter from you as the uneasiness on him only becomes more transparent.

you laugh some more, going on to say, "don't tell me you're actually gonna be sad?" your lips forming a frown after to tease him, and for the very first time, you think san might've blushed a little.

he opens his mouth as you watch curiously, but the moment shortly disrupted by the sound of san's phone going off.

"delivery will be here in 10 minutes," he tells you still holding the device in his hand before he tosses it aside.

"i also just want to try being on my own for a while," you bring the topic back into discussion when it seems like he isn't gonna answer the question.

you add, "if i do get moved, it will be on my own accord and everything will be from my own pockets... not my parents or anyone else. boss said i have about two months and i most likely will have to train the replacement but i think it's all gonna be worth it."

you're unable to read into san's reaction, silence filling the air until he finally speaks again.

"if you want to learn to be on your own, why don't you just get a place first? you know, instead of moving across the country. as someone in the current position, it's pretty nice if i say so myself."

your lips draw into a thin line, not because he's wrong but because you've never actually thought of that. you pretty much did just jumped ship into the next big step.

"i've uh... i didn't think of that," you mumble, the words cracking a smile on san's face before a snicker rolls out.

"jesus, y/n. a bit dramatic aren't you?"

"shut up," you hiss.

as the night goes on, any doubts and worries are long forgotten when the chatters with san would go on even after the food's arrival, both chewing and talking at the same time like you're never gonna run out of topics.

the eating soon turns into a search for something to watch while the two of you squabble about anything and everything, forgetting what the hell you're even fighting him about and being surprised you could even get this worked up without the help of alcohol.

and after you're both finally worn out from the long night; the foods on the coffee table now empty and dry and the tv running for far too long, you help clean the place up when it seems he's fallen asleep and quietly make your way out of the condo shortly after.

tuesday 4:32 p.m.

san: how about this one? looks really nice and is kind of close to my place 🙂

san: *attachment*

y/n: that looks way too fancy and expensive

y/n: i just want something that's enough for one person

it's impressive; the fact san even entertained the idea of leaving everything you've already got in mind to settle for something else, but even more so that you're even considering it.

getting a place of your own and learning to live on yourself would be a lot more doable than moving across the sea and away from everyone and everything you've grown up with.

you suppose it's not a bad idea. you're just not sure if it's the right one.

san: you're not gonna find anything if you're gonna be this picky 🙄

y/n: i'm just looking

y/n: if i'm really gonna stay, i'd do the search myself

san: 😢

you don't even realize how san starts weaving into your daily life and just integrating himself into it; whether through small, mindless texts, or bigger ones like actually inviting you out or over to his place (more frequently, at least).

wednesday 1:20 p.m.

san: what time do you finish work today

y/n: i always finish at 6

san: wanna come over? i got a game we can play 🙂

y/n: it better not that stupid truth or dare

san: ☹️

san: it's not

san: it's truth or dare spin the bottle

y/n: 🥱

san won't admit how fast he came at the sound of the first knock, and you also won't admit that despite him looking very much the same, there's something different about him lately.

something you can't pinpoint but it's almost as if he's gotten more attractive somehow even though you've never really cared about any of that.

"did you wear that to work?" he comments on your outfit as you make way past him and settling inside.

"yes," you answer dryly, tone soon overturning. "what? you think i was gonna get pretty?" you smirk.

he shrugs, mumbling a "maybe" that you quietly let pass to take off your shoes.

"wanna see a few places i've looked up?" he beams, going over to the laptop that was on the kitchen counter and running over to you on the couch with it.

"why not," you mumble, scooting closer, shoulder bumping into his nonchalantly.

you watch him scroll through the abundance of luxurious condos alike his, opting to raise your brow and turn to him.

"why are they all high-profile and in gangnam?" you question.

"pfft," he scoffs, facing you head on, standing the closest he's ever been to you in a long while and remarking, "it's not like you can't afford it. come on, y/n."

"i can't." you move away from him. "if i even get a place, it's gonna be with my own savings, not my parents. i definitely can't afford a place like these. can we please look at something a little less flashy?"

he shakes his head and eventually changes the area, but an hour into the search and you're still not satisfied. the prices are either not doable or the layouts and amenities aren't to your heart's content.

"let's continue this another day," you sigh out, throwing your head back and groaning as san chuckles.

"fine," he gives in, shutting the laptop and moving it out of sight. "you're so picky."

"well you got to be. i'm sure you didn't pick this place out in a day," you say at the same time you look around.

on your own, there's no way you'd ever be able to get anything like this.

"and you don't think it's nice?"

"are you kidding?" you say in disbelief. "it's amazing. if i had the money, it might as well be my dream place. but it's okay. i can also settle for much less as long as it accommodates all my needs."

san can't help but laugh, because he thinks you're both the snazziest person he's ever met, but also the most tame, it's a bit uncharacteristic of someone who grew up wealthy all her life.

"fair enough," he says, standing up abruptly to go grab at an empty beer bottle also on the counter which you're sure he most likely prepared for, given his next set of words.

"how about spin the bottle but no dares. we can only ask questions and the person has to answer truthfully." he places it on the coffee table.

you snap to him at that with something uneasy in your eyes, prompting a comment from him.

"you scared?" he tease.

"what? no," you blow.

"then what are we waiting for?" san doesn't hesitate with one of his hands already on the bottle but you have to stop him in the process to ask one more question.

"what kind of questions though?"

it takes him maybe a second for a light smirk to crawl out of him and with a shrug, telling you, "any."

you eye the bottle on the table anxiously as it circles and clinks; not afraid of the idea of the game but more so that you're playing with san and he's gonna ask the wildest shit.

fortunately, san shoots himself in the foot.

"oh fuck, it's me."

it's your turn to smirk, letting out an almost sarcastic, "yeah."

"knock yourself out. i'm an open book."

you roll your eyes because you know he is, which is why trying to come up with something that will even faze him is gonna be a challenge.

"most embarrassing thing you have done at a party?"

he scoffs it off in amusement, like he can't believe you're even asking that.

"i thought you could do worse, y/n. but sure."

he hesitates and hums for a few seconds more before answering, "got high as fuck and almost kissed wooyoung."

a dry snicker actually escapes from your lips at the confession.

"yeah i always suspected you guys had a thing for each other."

"please don't," he says in pure disgust. "i love wooyoung forreal but no amount of high can get me to kiss the man."

you laugh, now actually the one to initiate the spin because you think it can turn out fun. you think.

and thankfully, it's not you that have to answer a question, again.

"wow," san only silently curses the double misfortunate.

"how many people have you slept with?" you blurt, bold and straightforward, san even slightly taken aback.

"don't ask questions that will break your heart."

"tsk." you roll your eyes. "you could sleep with the entire population of earth and i wouldn't give a shit."

"not even the tiniest bit?" he plays on in that voice you hate because it's always when he's trying to flirt with you.

"i'd give the tiniest shit about everyone else because poor them."

"sharp," he retracts, the amusement all over his face. "but to answer your question, maybe eight? ten? to be honest, i've lost count."

"good to know," you reply nonchalantly, nodding for him to spin the bottle this time, but you know it's only so long before your luck eventually runs out, and so it does.

"ha," he says in victory, the top of the bottle pointing at you.

"i'll go easy, don't worry just yet," he teases annoyingly, you almost want to knock your foot into his.

"what did you think of me when we first met?"

you quirk your lips and pretend to think although you already know the answer.

"well, i thought you were gonna be sweet, but that was until i got to actually know you. then you were just annoying and a pervert."

he bursts out in genuine laughter and yeah, you think he's cute and endearing like this but 95% of the time, he's getting on your nerves.

the game continues on with a back and forth of innocent enough questions; just laughing and scoffing off the ridiculousness, and you're starting to think he might spare you, until the next one turns your eyes a dark one.

"what is it about yunho that made you like him so much?"

and again, you've already stated so many times why you like him. his kindness. his attitude. the way he presents himself. the way he treats you. but if you have to pick one.

"it just seems as if he accepted me for who i am. i don't know."

the way the atmosphere shifts is scary; both of the smiles on your lips wiped and replaced by unreadable expressions as san quiets without a reply, you have to be the one to speak again.

"and you... w-why are you helping me?" you ask him.

"huh?" he repeats just so there's no mistake.

"we don't even like each other and i pretty much treat you like shit but you still seem rather concerned about my wellbeing for whatever reason."

it has gotten so silent by now, you can hear san swallowing.

"you're the one who always says you don't like me. i never said i don't like you."

it's your turn to swallow, staring back at him with nervous eyes because you're not sure how to take the statement just now or what exactly he really means.

"i just thought the feeling was mutual," you mumble, shrugging lightly.

"no. i think you just didn't care enough to ask me," he says with a dry chuckle because he's right and even you know it. your mind at the time too occupied with his brother instead.

"so like, you really don't want me to leave?" you take the opportunity to tease him, a tone on you almost unrecognizable that you think even made san a bit nervous and shy.

"you could say that," he talks lowly, on the verge of stuttering. "i've known you almost my whole life."

"and if i did?" you ask, voice turning a more serious one as the words make an etch in san's heart. it hurts to even think of the possibility.

"then i would be really upset."

you watch his eyes and lips go soft, something so genuine and sincere in his response that makes you just freeze up before breaking the tension with a forced snicker.

"you still have some time to change my mind," you encourage, because you wish for there to be bigger reasons to stay so you won't regret the could of, even if san has to be that reason.

some might call it healing, some might call it a rebound if that even applies at all, but san successfully weaves himself into your life like a routine that you're no longer fazed by a morning text or even a goodnight one.

the way he'd just check up on you during work or call during the weekends to ask how you're doing and if you're up for something together.

it's a bit pathetic he's pretty much your only friend (and even that's a reach) at this point, but you genuinely enjoy his company.

he listens well, is fun to be around, and is almost like a life-long friend who's been missing your whole life.

but while those are the ups of being with san, there's also the downs--such as the long list of girls that'd constantly ring his phone or send him a text while the two of you are together, and while that isn't any of your business, that doesn't stop the few doubts that manages to plague your mind.

are you interrupting anything? does it make you a bitch for hanging with him when he has other girls lined up? does all of this even mean anything when you could very much just be one of them?

that maybe even if there's a possibility, you could never fully give and commit yourself to someone like san because it doesn't seem like he's ready to settle for anyone.

he haven't ever had a relationship that lasted more than a few months and you haven't ever known him to have less than two option on the table.

which might be why you were so much more attracted to yunho, because in comparison, yunho seemed like he would give away his heart and soul for just you.

but you know that, though. you knew that's how san is. you shouldn't have expected anything else, but you still can't help but to feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of loathing when he's distracted by another girl.

"i talked to the landlord a few days ago and she said if i wanted to see the apartment for myself, she would be more than happy to show me," you tell san over a late night eat out; the restaurant about to close in an hour but you're sure he's not listening because his head snaps to the text he got just now.

he still attempts to sound like it's the current topic holding his attention, which you have to give him credits for.

"that's good," he shortly says, fingers fast to type something on his phone before pushing it away. "so how many more days left again?"

"about two weeks, give or take," you respond, poking at your fries with the fork.

two weeks before you'll have to make the ultimate choice to leave or stay.

it's been that long, time just flying before your very eyes to the point where yunho's presence lingering around the house for the sole purpose of your sister almost no longer does an effect to you.

"wow. already?"

"yeah."

san offers to pay for the meal and drive you home instead of the usual catching a movie at his place before the actual end of the night and it's not like you're gonna fight him on it.

he's not your boyfriend and he definitely doesn't have any obligations to follow through any routines or whatever, so why are you all of a sudden feeling so tense about it?

tense and bitter about the fact that after he drives you home, there's a likely chance there's gonna be another girl at his place.

you think you're losing it.

you had let yourself indulge more and more into the possibility of staying, which was how you found the place that you could practically call ideal.

though it's only one bedroom, the modern but warm-toned style of the complex as a whole, as well as the location and pretty much everything else is convenient and accommodates all your needs.

when you had finally set a time and meeting with the landlord, you fell in love even harder in person because the second she opened the door to the place, it was like you knew this is it.

you think it can work out. you think you can see a future in this place; in this city still. and you have been much brighter and happier lately, even telling your boss the following day that there's a big chance you're gonna change your mind about the move given time is creeping up.

you had sent a text to san so excited because you want to tell him in person, every day the chance of you actually staying increasing by the second and he had told you he'd be available tomorrow night.

despite the conflicts swirling in your stomach a week ago, san had made up for it by being attentive as usual and making you feel like he really cares about you that the occasional rings and texts not from you were starting to become bearable.

after all, what does he owe you?

you're content with just having someone to talk and share your day with. you think you can live with that.

but you didn't expect nor think that all it'd take for the doubts to settle in again is to actually face the reality of your situation, making your way to san's place as promised and seeing a familiar face on the way in.

long hair and with a frame you've definitely seen before, it's hard to ignore the sensation she manages to conjure by just merely passing you.

“why don’t you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?”

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl’s waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won’t be a tomorrow.

“no thanks,” you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

it wasn't the first time you saw her with san, because if it was, your body wouldn't have recognized her so easily as if she's a threat, replacing all the excitement and hope with nothing but old and plain insecurities.

then it's as if everything was a mistake.

choosing to stay because of san and with nothing but the hope that it will all work out... instead of going away on your own for some time and learning to really be independent.

your whole life, you've already been nothing but emotionally dependent on someone else, looking to them as a source of support, and you've realized that this time, it isn't any different.

you've just moved from yunho to san... and you didn't even like san for the longest time.

so how long before it will hit you that staying was a mistake; and especially that choosing to stay because of san was gonna be the biggest one of them all.

you have the tendency to catch feelings way too fast, and even if not romantic which you won't admit in this case (even if it might be), you react strongly to it and the feeling is consuming.

because how long before san will leave you the way yunho did?

everything may seem good for now but they will all meet the same ending. and to think of everything in perspective this way, you know you're not meant to stay.

your parents, yunho and your sister, san...

you don't feel ready for any of them currently, your life stuck at a point where you're not moving. and so you just turn back around and head home.

you think long and hard just to be sure this is what you want; then you think of how to tell your boss tomorrow, and about an hour later, you finally get a text from san.

san: you still coming? you said you have something to tell me

y/n: something came up sorry

y/n: i was just gonna tell you that i've made up my mind and i think i'm gonna go to japan

a/n: i am truly sorry for having been gone a while only to come back with crumbs, but i hope y'all enjoyed this mess & will anticipate it finally coming to an end the following chapter <3 lmk if i missed anyone on the taglist cuz i have not touched it in 4ever fr

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny @arinyyy @svintsandghosts @yoongiworshiper @raineadlr @tunaasan @chickenscoups @nevieatiny

#y'all don't even know #the demons i fought #just to get 7k out of my ass #y/n got serious issues #but i hope y'all will still enjoy the drama #ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #yunho x reader #fic: sweetestlies

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