#you won't miss sky that much
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notapersonyouthinkof · 8 days ago
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Man does THIS with his "research partner" and then tries to prove that he needs a woman for whatever reasons
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dundotten · 4 months ago
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as a 2006-2018 veteran club penguin player, i don't know what is going on with club penguin journey and at this point i am too afraid to ask
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lightseoul · 16 days ago
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a/n. feeling soft and yearning for 30-something boyfriend!bkg, so i just had to write something down on him real quick. enjoy! (0.5k)
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thinking about quiet saturday evenings with bakugou, spent in the comfortable silence you've both worked towards in the brief time you've spent officially together.
you're in your early 30s now, and people your age are rushing to get rich or get buff or get hitched, but with bakugou it's surprisingly peaceful. you're in no rush, just seven months into this budding relationship, but that doesn't mean the people around you aren't.
"denki's getting married next year," bakugou shares out of the blue, breaking the quiet and sprawled so nonchalantly on his leather couch. you whip to look at him from where you're seated to his right, stunned.
"seriously?"
at that, he snorts. "crazy, right?"
you try to frown at his tone, but the corners of your lips refuse and fight to turn upward instead. "be nice, kats. i was referring to how fast they're going, not to the fact that he's getting married."
bakugou merely hums in neither affirmation nor disagreement. leaning forward, he places the mug of tea he's been nursing on top of the coffee table. "it's gonna be a pain in the ass either way. he asked me to be a groomsman."
you don't even try to tamp down the excitement that shoots through you. "he did? that's great, babe! that's so sweet of him."
he shrugs. "yeah, well. i told him i'll only agree if he included blue as one of the colors for the guests."
you feel your eyebrows furrow. "...blue? what's with that, specifically?"
bakugou frowns at you like you just told him the sky was green. "because that's your color?"
he says it so as a matter-of-factly that you buffer for a second, not knowing how to respond.
"…but the wedding won't be until late next year, right?" you finally ask when you get your words back, voice small.
"yeah?" he retorts without missing a beat. "what're you getting at?"
he asks the question in such a way that's bordering on challenging you, shutting you right up. the thing is, you've never thought much about the future, let alone one shared with bakugou, mainly because you didn't want to get way ahead of yourself and potentially get disappointed, yet...
here he is, talking so casually about it.
you look back up to see that he's still staring at you, goading you for an answer, and for a moment, you debate whether or not to have the conversation now.
the conversation where you talk about what the future looks like ahead of you.
but as you gaze back at bakugou's waiting, crimson eyes, and drink in the softness of his skin that perfectly juxtaposes the sharpness of his features, you decide to save it for another day.
shaking your head, you toss him the gentlest smile you can muster. "it'll be my honor to be your date to the wedding, katsuki."
at that, bakugou scoffs, but there's no missing the tinge of pink now decorating the high planes of his cheeks.
"who else would it be, dumbass?"
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˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!
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jayke0 · 8 months ago
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Bunk Up
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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem reader
Summary: Arthur invites you on a hunting trip, but you foolishly forget your tent. No harm done, you can bunk up with him, right?
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: a deer gets killed (camp's gotta eat), female masturbation, dry humping, fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 3,132
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
…………......................………………………………….
Why in god's green earth had you agreed to go on this hunting trip again?
Oh yeah, because you have a hard-on for Arthur Morgan… figuratively, that is.
It'd be alright if you could just tell him your feelings, but you'd prided yourself on liking more respectable, more rich men in the past; that's the easiest way to make a living, at the end of the day. You'd originally intended to go for the gang leader, but that man is oblivious and stubborn as hell, not to mention not actually rich, much to your displeasure.
Then Arthur had introduced himself to you. His stupid snarky remarks and silly outfits and disgustingly beautiful eyes all seemed to merge together into this gorgeous man that loomed in front of you and had your knees almost buckling.
Even worse, he'd noticed the way your demeanour changed and how your body seemed to crumble under the weight of his soft eyes.
“Hey! Are you even listenin’ to me?” His gruff voice breaks you from your trance.
“ ‘course I am, I always listen to your wise words, Mr Morgan.” You remark, looking up at him from the position you'd had your eyes trained on seconds ago. “Yeah, sure.” You feel his rough fingertips turn your chin back towards the deer in front of you, a gesture that makes heat rise in your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears.
“Take the shot, you got a perfect shot there, can't miss it.”
The cold varnished wood cools your warm cheeks as you bring it close to your face and grit your teeth.
“Always shoot on empty lungs.” His whisper sends shivers down your spine before you take the shot, a loud crack echoing through the trees as a clatter of birds ascends into the sky.
“You did good! That was perfect.” A soft grunt leaves his throat as he gets up and checks the prey. “Think Pearson will make a good meal outta this,” his eyes then meet yours. “Good girl.” he tips his hat to you.
Damn Arthur Morgan, with that shit eating grin that makes your stomach flutter.
“You know I ain't one for pickin’ on people–” Arthur starts, shoveling chunks of peaches in his mouth, “but I don't think I've ever seen someone forget their tent on a huntin’ trip.”
“Ok, for one, you're always picking on people, ‘specially if you don't like ‘em. And for two… just– shut the hell up.” You pull your coat tighter around your body to shield yourself from the cold rain drizzling down your neck, the soft fur bringing you some warmth and comfort to your otherwise shaking body.
“Easy girl, don't be gettin’ mad at me now. Besides, it means you get to share a tent with me, ain't that a dream?” A simple grumble from you makes the man chuckle lowly. “I won't take that personally.”
It was a dream, and you hated admitting that.
Luckily, you'd remembered your bed roll, so at least you didn't have to snuggle up under the cotton sheets with your rugged partner… but, admittedly, a small part of you is disappointed at that.
You try to forget about those thoughts that are festering in the back of your mind and making you squeeze your legs together, but as the cold seeps into your bones and makes yourself huddle further into the sheets, you find yourself backing up against the warm body behind you.
The soft rustle of trees keeps you awake, at least that's what you tell yourself at first, not wanting to give into those filthy images of the cowboy flashing behind your eyelids.
Soon, all too soon for your liking, you find yourself panting. It's barely audible, but it's enough to make yourself embarrassed and look back at the outlaw peacefully sleeping behind you, unaware of the pictures you have playing on loop in your head. It makes you bite your lip; the thought of touching yourself right next to the man you've been meaning to tell your feelings to for months.
Quietly and carefully, you slide your hand over your body and between your legs, rubbing your already damp cunt over the fabric of your underwear. The feeling makes you grit your teeth much like earlier, and a small noise sneaks past your lips. You look back at Arthur again to see his chest still rising and falling slowly… fuck it, what's the worst that could happen?
Your hand slips into your underwear before you're even registering it. It's too cold to take the blanket off, or even your underwear for that matter, so you just run your fingers through your wet folds under the thin fabric. The slick noise it makes sounds too loud in the quiet forest, but at this point you're pretty sure the man is asleep, so you continue teasing yourself.
Your fingers circle your hole as you imagine it being his thick digits instead, or maybe even his tongue, since he's usually so quick with it. Another wet noise fills the tent when your fingers slide inside your needy cunt, buried to your knuckles as you massage that glorious spot inside you. When you pick up the pace, and the noises get louder, you're practically praying, wishing it was Arthur's fingers instead. They'd stretch you wide and fuck you good, the thought makes you shove some of the blanket in your mouth.
You're teetering on the edge at this point, scanning your brain for that final image that'll send you descending down the cliff… but a thick arm wrapping around your waist has you freezing in place.
“What have we got here?” Arthur's low, sleepy voice has the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, raising goosebumps all over your body as if he'd just ripped the sheets from your body.
“Arthur!–shit, I'm sorry–." You start, but his nose pressing against the back of your neck makes you stop in your tracks.
“I ain't judgin’ you, girl. We've all got our urges, desires.” He shuffles up closer to you, closing in on your body till his chest is pressed against your back, and his crotch is angled perfectly against your thighs. “Just wanted to know what you were thinkin’ about.”
God, his voice is so soft and low, it could make you fall asleep if your fingers weren't still knuckle deep inside yourself. “I–uhm…” Should you admit it? With the way he's pressing against you, it makes you think you should.
“You.”
“ ‘s that so? And why ain't you told me about this before, sweetheart?” His breath is hot on the back of your neck, pushing out any coldness that was left in your body as his large hand splays across your stomach and strokes your soft skin.
A huff escapes your nose a little louder than you expected. “Because… I'm embarrassed, I don't wanna be thinking about you like this.” You mumble ashamedly, but as those words leave your lips, you start moving your fingers inside your cunt again; a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you bite your lip to contain your noises.
“Oh, that ain't very nice. You ain't exactly a saint ya'self, Darlin’.”
Fuck, the way his words roll off his tongue makes you roll against your hand with a soft noise.
The action must've pleased Arthur, because he lets out a pant and presses his hips closer to yours, grinding in tandem with you as your hips roll on your fingers.
This feels so strange and wrong, but you aren't sure why. It's not like Arthur is married or even has a girl, he's just as lonely as you, and maybe that's exactly why you're so drawn to each other.
“Mmm, been dreamin’ ‘bout this for months, pressing against you like this.” He groans softly. His chin is placed neatly on your shoulder, cheek pressing against yours as his stubble itches your skin. He feels so warm and big behind you, like he's shielding you from any and every burden, and as his hips rock against yours more, you can't help but do the same. You grind back on him with short, soft pants, tilting your head to just get a glimpse of his blissed out face.
“When was the last time you did something like this, cowboy? You're acting like you're gonna cum in your night clothes.”
That makes a soft chuckle leave his red lips, flushed face pulling away from yours to look down at you.
“Long enough to be needin’ you.”
His words make you shiver, but he's quick to distract you with his hand taking your wrist and swatting your hand away.
“Lemme do it for you, sweetheart, please?”
Before your brain can even question or think about it, your body is telling him yes, your head nodding almost instantly. His fingers are quick to dive into your under garments and slide through your slick folds, a groan from him ringing in your ears.
“Dammit girl, you must have one hell of an imagination to make ya'self this wet… Jesus.” He grunts, looking down at his hand in your underwear with only the dim light of the lantern making your skin glow.
“I always get like this when I think of you, Arthur.” You tell him as your hand wraps around his wrist. “You're the only one that can make me cum.” You moan in his ear, making him dive his fingers into your needy cunt.
The stretch is wonderful, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel it, and it's just how you expected, if not better. His thick digits curl and glide over your walls until he finally feels you squirm against him as they touch that delicious spot.
“Yeah? You like it there, darlin’? Want me to keep goin’?”
Again, your body simply speaks for you, nodding quickly and grinding down on his fingers. You feel him grind his hips against you again, his body seemingly wanting to get impossibly closer to you as he ruts against your ass.
“You're such a pretty girl, y'know that? Been waitin’ to tell you that since the day we met.” He rests his chin on your arm so he can peck the exposed skin and continue curling his fingers inside you.
The tent is once again filled with the filthy sounds of your hole taking two fingers, sloppy wet sounds that would make you feel ashamed if it didn't feel so fucking good. It feels like all your nerves are being stroked at once, each time his fingers brush against your tummy or stroke your walls feels like you can't get enough of the electricity that runs through your body. You grip his thick arm, looking back at him as moans fall from your lips.
“You're damn good… shit.” You whimper as he looks up at you, big round eyes meeting yours to show he's there.
“Well, I appreciate that, comin’ from you.” He chuckles lightly, his own words breathy while his hips start to snap a little faster and become sloppy. “You gotta lemme feel this cunt for myself, please sweetheart, lemme feel this cunt clench around my cock.”
You find it hard to stop rocking your hips when he's talking to you like that, but eventually you take a deep breath and stop yourself. His fingers slip out of you with a lewd sound, and you feel him shuffle to get his night clothes off.
Your own are gone within seconds, your body too hot and needy to worry about if you'd thrown them outside to the wolves to get torn to shreds, all you can focus on is the man behind you.
As much as this position made you wet before, you desperately want to see his handsome face, even if it is barely visible. So, you flip onto your other side and rest your hands on his chest, the warmth spreading through your fingers. You can practically feel his excitement buzzing off of him and through your body, and it makes you giggle a little. “Jesus, you really ain't done this in a while, have you?”
“Not with a girl as pretty as you, sweetheart.” One hand slides over your cheek while his other finally gets his clothes off.
Just his tone alone makes your cheeks heat up, but as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself taking in a breath of surprise. It's easy to melt into his arms and get lost in the feeling of his lips; they're surprisingly soft and sweet, and they feel like they fit perfectly on yours.
You're so swept up that it takes you a second to notice his hand snaking around the back of your knee and pulling your hips closer to himself.
That's when you feel it.
His length rests against your slick pussy lips, your leg now cocked over his waist to get him close. It feels bigger than you expected, thicker than you expected, it makes you whine softly on his lips.
You hate his little grin that you feel spread across his face. “Impatient, ain't you?” He teases, slowly rocking his hips against yours to let his cock slide through your sopping folds. His tip manages to butt against your clit each time, making you furrow your brows and moan softly on his lips.
Your hand is still resting on his cheek as you feel him push in for the first time, and god are you glad you're holding onto your bedroll with the other, because the stretch and the way he fills you makes you almost cum on the spot, a loud moan spilling from your lips to make you whimper embarrassedly.
“Oh sweetheart, don't be embarrassed. I love the noises you're makin’ for me, they're makin’ me so goddamn hard, can you do it again for me?” He asks as he pulls his hips back before sliding inside your warm, slick walls again.
You're quick to oblige to his plea, your body automatically reacting with a soft choked moan at the surprise of his thick cock stretching you once again. You can feel his calloused fingers still gripping the back of your knee to hold your leg up, giving him the perfect angle for his length to hit every nerve you have inside you and send sparks of arousal up your spine.
“Thaaat’s a good girl, look at'chu.” The man purrs, his warm breath making your eyes flutter shut so you can focus on his cock spearing you with each slow, deep thrust.
“Holy shit, Arthur, f–feels like you're splitting me in half.” You moan as your hands slide over his thick biceps and along his broad shoulders, finding that the perfect place for you to grip on for dear life too.
Arthur groans before leaning forward to press a kiss on the top of your head as he pants softly. “Biggest you've had, huh? Never felt somethin’ like this inside you, have you?” He doesn't accept the simple shake of your head, instead giving you a sharp thrust that has your nails dig into his flesh and a whimper spill from your lips. “No! No, I haven't… I love it, dammit, I love your cock.”
Something inside him seems to click as you say those words, a long moan slipping from his throat as his grip becomes tighter on your leg to pull you closer to him, his cock burying deeper inside you. He doesn't give you time to adjust before his hips are colliding with yours and the sounds of both your arousal soaked thighs are filling your ears and sending waves of pleasure from your head to your toes.
“Listen to those filthy noises, girl, that's all you. That's your wet cunt..” Arthur manages to moan out. He tilts his head down to watch your hips connecting, his head resting against your collar bones. “What a pretty cunt it is too… shit, I ain't ever felt somethin’ as good as this, miss.” His words seem to roll off of his tongue with ease, as if he's a erotic poet reciting the words he's scrawled down on the page. Maybe it has something to do with that journal he's writing in all the time… lord above how you'd love to read that.
“For you, Mr Morgan,” you blabber without even thinking about the words coming from your mouth. “I'm all for you, want you to take me like this over and over–.” It's funny how worked up you get over your own words, but it seems to have an even better effect on Arthur.
His brows knit together as his jaw hangs open a little, and dirty blonde strands of hair fall in his face and stick to his forehead perfectly.
“Shit, girl, you're gonna make me finish inside you if you keep talkin’ like that…” The man groans, his lip finding its way between his teeth to give him something to chew on. Somehow, his thrusts get faster, impossibly better as you feel the molten heat spread through your body and up to your throat to make you moan his name, along with any other expletives that come to mind.
Before you can stop yourself, you're saying dangerous words that, with any other man, would be like handing a loaded gun to a baboon.
“I want you to do that Arthur! Please– please cum inside me–” Your entire body tenses up before you come crashing down, whaling and grasping onto him for dear life as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm and make sharp thrusts that have you whimpering loudly. Your walls clench him tightly in pulsing rhythm, driving him closer and closer to the edge.
It's only a few more seconds before he's tearing his body away from yours and fisting himself, white ropes shooting all over your tummy as groans and growls rumble in his chest and his head throws back.
You watch the whole scene in front of you in awe, as if you're at the goddamn theatre watching a play… no, it's better than that. You'd never had time for the theatre, but you always have time for Arthur, despite how he gets on your nerves sometimes.
You smile softly at him as he lifts his head to look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he leans forward and pecks your lips.
“Hey, what's with the grin?” You huff softly and hit his chest playfully.
“Nothin’ just been waitin’ for you to admit your feelin's for me for a while now.”
An annoyed growl leaves your lips as you feel your face heat up with embarrassment, burying it in his chest instead to save you from his teasing.
“Shut the hell up, Morgan…”
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sommerbueckers · 3 months ago
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CAN WE GET HOPKINS P WITH A CLOSETED “straight hair straight A’s straight girl” TYPE GIRLFRIEND
SNEAKING IN, SECRETLY MEETING IN SCHOOL, P CANT HELP BUT STARE AND GF GETS MAD (but not rlly mad tho🤭)
𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 — 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴
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THERE WAS SOMETHING YOU always loved about the month of October, and it wasn't just the fact that it was your girlfriend's birthday month and she spent the entirety of it wanting to be near you. Paige wanted to be near you no matter what month it was. Your relationship was a secret, your sexuality was a secret. Being discreet was hard, especially when you and Paige passed each other in the hall and had to fight the urge to eye fuck each other the whole time.
"—And looking at this digital imaging, you can see where the forest fires started, and where they've spread."
Your hand was moving swiftly across the page, taking as many notes as you could. Your lip was between your teeth, eyes switching between your notebook and the board up front. You hadn't even registered the first buzz that came from your backpack, but then a second came, and then a third, and suddenly it was hard to ignore. You carefully set your pen down, leaning over to retrieve your phone.
Paige: u look pretty
Paige: all concentrated and shit
Paige: look up
Your eyes shot up toward the door, and you could see her smiling at you through the small window. She motioned you over with her finger, and you shook your head, gesturing down to your phone.
You: I can't, taking notes
Paige: but it's my birthday
You: Your birthday isn't for another two weeks
Paige: but i want my gift now
Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up at her again. She was standing further back now, meeting your eyes with a smirk on her lips. You smiled to yourself, switching your phone off and putting it back. For a moment, Paige's shoulders slumped outside. Her head fell back and she sighed, pursing her lips out. But then, the door to the classroom cracked open and you slipped out.
You didn't acknowledge her. You closed the door behind you and began your walk to the usual spot; the restricted hallway. It was closed for the renovations that were being made in the west wing, and therefore, it left you and your girlfriend the perfect meetup spot. It was darker than most days, the gray sky outside not doing much to illuminate the space. But neither of you minded.
Paige snuck in not long after you, silently walking toward you with a cocky expression. She snaked her arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. The feeling of her hands running down over your hips and to your ass sent shivers down your spine, and you had to bite back a satisfied sigh when her hand grabbed at your plump skin.
She pulled away only slightly, features appearing darker as she stared down at you in the dim lighting.
"You miss me?" she whispered teasingly, tilting her head.
"A little..." you smiled.
"Just a little?" Her words came off as a challenge, one you couldn't back down from even if you tried.
"Yeah, just a little."
"Okay," she sighed out, fully backing away. "Guess you won't get a kiss then..."
"Wait," you grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her back to you, rolling your eyes. "Not fair. You pulled me out of class, you owe me."
"You think so?"
"Just kiss me you idiot."
Paige's arms wrapped themselves around your waist again, and she pulled you in for a kiss. You gently cupped her face, smiling against her lips when you felt her melt into you. She was full on hugging you while eating your face at the same time. You could taste her lunch on her; something with peanut butter.
She walked you back into the wall, sighing into the kiss when you pulled her closer by the drawstrings of her hoodie.
"You smell so good," she mumbled breathlessly, using her knee to part your legs.
You moaned when her knee came in contact with your core, the movement of your lips stuttering for a moment as you tried to maintain her pace.
"Just wanna taste you..."
You moved your hips against her, your grip on her hoodie tightening. Soft pants fell from your lips, and arousal dripped from your pussy. Paige pulled on the end of your braid, the braid that had taken you three tries to perfect this morning. You didn't care, not with Paige. She had this way of making you forget about everything important; school, work, grades, your image.
"That feel good baby?" she whispered, another hand tilting your chin to look at her.
"Uh huh..." you nodded, "So good."
"I can make it feel even better," she said. She tugged at the waistband of your pants, wanting so badly to rip them off. But you were grabbing at her hands the minute you felt her trying to get under them.
"No..." you pushed out, and you felt her pull away.
She stared at you for a moment before asking, "Are you okay?"
You nodded your head and straightened out your clothes.
"Yeah, but I have to get back to class," you insisted quietly, smirking at the pout she had on her face.
"I would've made it quick, y'know that," she rolled her eyes, but she wasn't really upset. She never was with you.
"I know that, but I didn't want you to," you brought her face down to yours and pressed a kiss to her lips, "I want us to take our time."
YOU SAT AT A different lunch table every day, but that didn't seem to stop Paige's eyes from finding you. She was staring across the cafeteria, completely ignoring the boy next to her while he talked her ear off. A smirk played at her lips, forearms resting against the top of the table. She was completely lost in the sight of you.
You gave her a stern look, mouthing 'Stop' as your eyes nervously scanned the area around you. Could she get any more obvious? She didn't listen, instead she brought her palm up to her face and rested her chin against it. She shook her head, a daring twinkle in her eye that you could see from a mile away. You furrowed your eyebrows, pulling out your phone and texting her.
You: Will you stop that ?
Paige: stop what?
You: Staring, you look creepy
Paige: i like what i see
You rolled your eyes, bringing your gaze up to her only to find that she w poking her tongue out at you. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, even though you knew you looked like an idiot to everyone else — smiling at nothing. You put your head down when you saw one of your best friends approaching you.
“You’re smiling…” she observed, “and you don’t have a book in your hand, so i’m officially scared.”
“Nothing to be scared of, i’m just in a good mood today,” you shrugged simply, and picked up your sandwich to avoid saying anything else.
“Okay, i’ll believe it for now.”
Your phone buzzed again, and you tipped the screen toward you to read the message.
Paige: lemme come over tonight
You: As much as I would love that, it’s a no
Paige: don’t be like thatttttttt
You: My mom works from home today, and my dad gets off early
Paige: i’ll be gone before he gets home
You: And my mom?
Paige’s typing ceased for a moment, you fought the urge to look up at her and admire her concentrated face. Her eyebrows furrowed, her lips screwed shut, eyes staring off into space like a solution would float by. As if you had thought it into existence, another message came through.
Paige: i’ll be quiet;)
A KNOCK SOUNDED SOFTLY on your window pane, and your eyes shifted toward the blonde who was smiling brightly at you. Her hair was completely soaked, droplets dripping down the sides of her face. You stood from the chair at your desk, stretching your arms over your head, painfully slow.
Paige narrowed her eyes at you from outside, lips trembling as she parted them to mumble under her breath.
Unlocking the window and pushing it up, you helped your girlfriend through. She was drenched from head to toe, smelling distinctly like rain and Paige. Immediately she pulled you into her, pressing her lips to yours and silencing whatever you had gone to say. The feeling of her wet clothes wasn’t pleasant, but again, you didn’t care.
“Hi,” she whispered against your lips.
“Hi there,” you whispered back.
“I missed you. Practice was so long and hard and I kept thinking about you the whole time.” She seated herself in the chair you had just gotten up from, touching all over your belongings. She smeared the words on your notebook when she let rain drip from her skin, she dampened the seat of your chair, ran her wet fingers along the pad of your computer.
“Leave that stuff alone,” you sighed out, closing your computer. “I’m so close to finishing.”
“I’m not gonna ruin it baby,” she smiled up at you, “Just wanted to see how smart you are.”
Your cheeks heated up at her compliment, you loved when Paige called you smart, when she told you how good you were, when she praised you in any way really. She knew it too, you could tell by the proud smirk that crossed her face when she noticed your blush.
“You’re pretty.” It came out as a whisper, not the kind that you used to share secrets, but the kind that isn’t meant to be heard by anyone other than yourself. She wished she could say something else, something that meant more to you. Those three words. It was odd how terrifying three little words could be. Paige wasn’t scared of much, but if there was one thing on the planet that she was scared of, it was those three words.
You looked down at her, unaware of the pool of thoughts that submerged her judgement.
“You’re prettier,” you said, kissing the tip of her nose. “Do you wanna watch a movie?” you then asked, the air around her now cold as you sat down on your bed.
She nodded her head, clearing her throat as well as her head. “Yeah, The Nightmare Before Christmas?”
“Duh,” you laughed, scrolling through the selection of movies until you found you favorite.
Paige unzipped her jacket and set it on the chair. Then, still clad in her wet clothes, she made herself comfortable beside you.
As the movie started, the blonde pulled you close to her and kissed the top of your head, wanting so badly to whisper those three little words.
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astonmartingf · 9 months ago
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WISH YOU HELL ; OP81
oscar piastri x mclaren driver!reader
. . . calm and collected oscar? wrong! it's like hamilton and alonso all over again with more awkward silence and banter instead of attempted murder
next: his car isn't yours
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 983,048 others
oscarpiastri i'll miss you landonorris please don't forget about me, thank you for making my first season memorable 🧡
view 453,021 comments...
user1 we only got one season with them 🥹
user2 i'm happy for lando but i miss him with Oscar already
user3 landoscar you were bigger than the whole sky
landonorris we'll see each other on track mate, don't miss me too much 😘
oscarpiastri i will miss you
maxverstappen1 he's mine now
oscarpiastri okay shut up braggart 🙄
landonorris i'll just go with yourusername instead
yourusername why am i mentioned? congratulations lando!!!!
oscarpiastri why are you here? you can't resist searching for me 😉
yourusername 🤓☝️ actually lando mentioned me, clearly he like me more than you
oscarpiastri he may like you, but he liked me first
landonorris okay knock it off
maxverstappen1 you guys are acting like children
landonorris technically they are children
carlossainz55 and you're not lando?
landonorris why am i catching strays? this post is about me?
user4 i'm still shocked... i thought we would have more seasons with them together
user5 congratulations to lando, and oscar as well as yn 🫶
user6 it hasn't been 24 hours and they're getting emotional already
user7 all i know is the oscaryn dynamic will be bomb
user8 bomb as in they'll both explode each other
user9 HAHAHAHAHAHA you might be on to smth actually
user10 two more months before the season begins i'm going insane
user11 the oscar yn tea is piping hot i wonder what oscar thinks
user12 to be a fly when lando, oscar, and yn saw each other in MTC
landonorris storytime...
yourusername shut up lando
oscarpiastri bad idea man
user13 the only time they agree with each other...
user14 what did they do in mtc?!????!?!? landonorris you better tell us
landonorris 🤐
yourusername we're contractually not allowed to say anything
user15 wow, i actually can't wait for this season to start, the pinnacle of motorsport and the drivers are acting like 15 year olds
user16 if you think about it... oscar and yn are 15
user17 FOUL!!!!!
yourusername
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liked by logansargent, landonorris, and 459,235 others
yourusername bye lando, hello me
view 109,743 comments...
user18 OMGHOSH I'M ACTUALLY 😭😭😭
user19 CONGRATULATIONS!!!!! 🎉🥳👏
mclaren welcome to the team 🧡
yourusername i won't let you down, let's get these podiums 🧡
user20 I'M SUCH A PROUD MOTHER 👏👏👏 YN SLAY THESE MEN DOWN
user21 baby is in her drram team omhjmh i'm cryingt
user22 congratulations yn 🧡🧡🧡
user23 using lando as a meme like that... pr moves
user24 wow, she's so ungrateful
landonorris you actually posted the meme!!! i'm so proud of you 🧡
yourusername thank you so much for all your support lan, it's a shame we couldn't race together
landonorris you can always look at the rear of my car
yourusername HA HA HA, watch as i overtake you
landonorris i'll be waiting for you
oscarpiastri congratulations yn 👏
yourusername who paid you to post this
[comment has been deleted]
yourusername thank you oscar. let's have a good season together 🧡
user25 help they're so awkward
user26 i'm actually laughing 😭😭😭
user27 this might be the most excited i've been for a season
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amgf it's still me just in a different account, hello guys <3
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shytastemakerthing · 1 month ago
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Hi! I wanted to say I love your writing and if I could request all TWST dorms x reader with wings? And with bird-like tendencies like collecting shiny things, ect. Thanks!!
A/N: Hello, hello, and thank you so much for this request and your patience as I can finally start working through more of the inbox! I do hope that you enjoy your request!
Prompt: All dorms with Yuu who has wings
Tw: None
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Riddle, I feel like, knows quite a bit about animals. Between animal linguistics and then the animals in the dorm, several having wings, he is quite knowledgeable on the subject. This also means that if you ever need any help in wing care, he would certainly help out. Has caught you on more than one occasion taking anything you seem to find shiny. Has spoken to you about it several times, given it could have belonged to someone...... but then begins to intentionally leave around a few things here and there. Pins, coins, shiny pens. Lives in denial.
Trey: Finds these bird-like tendencies of yours to be rather amusing. Man is friends with Che'nya, who has cat-like tendencies. Wonders if it is a beast-kin thing. Is a little hesitant about letting you help in the kitchen. Lots of gunk is able to get into your wings and also doesn't want his favorite measuring spoons going missing. Perhaps he can gift you a pair of your own
Cater: The amount of videos that he has of you flying, snatching shiny things, or just carrying out other bird-related behavior, should be a crime. There is so much, but he is like your own personal cheerleader. You have snatched a few of his things on more than one occasion. Honestly melts at the softness of your wings. Can he stay here for a bit? Please?.....
Ace: Has tried to bribe you on more than one occasion to either snatch something for him given your attraction to anything shiny or just to get in some general trouble. Has yet to work. When he has seen this happen, can't help but to laugh at it. It's like you're an actual bird. A slap to the head with one of your wings usually shuts him up
Deuce: More worried when you take anything shiny that does not belong to you. Man is trying to be an honors student over here and it's a bit heard when you keep snatching things and he has to keep apologizing to people as certain things get returned. He will absolutely go to a shop or something to find random shiny materials for you to conveniently find on your little journeys
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Leona: Finds the whole ordeal rather amusing to be honest. Just seeing people scramble to find something they swore they just had, all while he sees you making a quick fly into the air to avoid detection never fails to make him chuckle. Will also leave out the most random things in his room for you to snag. Not like he needs it anyway. Also, when allowed (as he knows that certain beast-types are rather sensitive with their additional limbs), he will use your wings as a pillow
Ruggie: Will 1000% enable this behavior of yours. Honestly, within the first week of the school year, you both had this arrangement going on. You find valuables to snag, he finds food, you split the profits. It's a win-win both ways. Please don't notice the little love-struck look in his eyes
Jack: Another one who is nervous about these habits of yours. He knows that there are times where you literally can't help yourself and instincts are in full drive, but there could be a day you take something from the wrong person. To help satiate this, he finds a plethora of coins, rocks, and little gems to leave around for you, more as a safety measure. Don't notice the intense wagging of his tail.......
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Azul: Funnily enough, octopuses are also attracted to shiny materials and lights, much like the coin collection that he has. Seeing this behavior in you is rather amusing. Not to mention the quick getaway into the sky that ensures you won't be caught quickly. Perhaps the two of you can come to some sort of an agreement? More-so staring at your wings through that conversation. Are they as soft as they appear?
Jade: Noticed these habits when you managed to snatch the broach off of one of the hats from another Octavinelle student before said student could even react. Now he is intrigued. Through more observation, takes notice of the amount of shiny materials that go missing throughout the day. And the way your wings fluff and reflect the light? Be still, his beating heart. Now he needs more excuses to talk to you
Floyd: Another who will enable this behavior. It's hilarious to him to see all of this going down. What will you take next? Had that question answered the moment he saw your eyes land on his earring. Yeah, no. That one is off limits. But when you begin to see an array of scales beginning to make an appearance, you have a feeling as to who is behind all this. He left you scales, maybe you'll leave him a few feathers?
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Kalim: Scarabia would be a gold mine of shiny materials that you can snag and quickly leave. Kalim certainly does not help in the manner, not when he keeps giving you all for these new things. Gold, precious stones, coins, he lets you go for it all. It would all be yours if Jamil didn't step in when he did. Absolutely loves to go on late-night flights with you. He'll take the carpet and then be in absolute awe of your wings
Jamil: You just became another headache for him... a rather cute headache. He knows that this instinct of yours is rather hard to ignore. Like some ancient drive in you to do these things that can't be buried away. This man begins to leave little beads out for you to take. At the end of the day? He will never admit just how quickly he falls asleep under the protection of your wings.
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Vil: This man absolutely helps you with wing care. Washing those feathers, ensuring they are soft and bright in their colors. He can't imagine how difficult it must be to try and take care of it all on your own. Why, it took several hours just between the two of you. Your tendency to take shiny things does bother him quite a bit. He knows there is a drive within you to do this, and that it can be rather hard to ignore. He just tries to find other means to help satiate this urge of yours
Rook: This freak of nature 100% collects any feathers that you may shed throughout your time there. Also uses some of these feathers for that hat of his. Will often switch them out. Another one who helps tend to the wings, reveling in the softness of them, how they shake and flutter, the vivid colors of them. The man is a mess, a cheesy, poetic mess. The shiny things? He doesn't help in that regard. You've become someone he marvels at from afar when these instincts take over.
Epel: At times, encourages this behavior of yours. Maybe you'll find something rather nice and bring it to him. Not exactly the best at helping to take care of your wings, but he certainly tries. Another one who will absolutely fall asleep in those wings of yours
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Idia: Ignihyde is also a rather dangerous spot for you if you like shiny things as the entire dorm is metal and technology, meaning lots of shiny things to grab. Idia was rather quick to pick up on this and find out it was you given all the cameras that were there. Has a bad habit of watching you through the cameras. Seeing you snatch anything you can get your hands on, the way that you fly, both in and out of the building. Maybe that's why you were currently in his room, eyes glued to the screen as you watched him play one of these new games of his...... and why he happens to now have a small collection of your feathers.
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Malleus: To him, you are just as mischievous as a number of fae he has encountered, one of them currently enrolled in this school as well. Your love of shiny materials makes him chuckle (so long as none of it is iron). If it is shiny materials you wish for, then he would be all too happy to indulge you. Your wings, so different from his own. He could run his fingers through them for hours and remain content. To have such trust in him that you would allow his hands in a place as vulnerable as your wings makes his heart beat faster
Lilia: Is often stuck between scolding you for your instinctive behavior to take shiny things, and then also encouraging you to do so. As a fae, he would absolutely partake in these actions of yours. As a father, he wants to remind you that taking things that do not belong to you is not okay. All depends on what you find and where it came from. He can't begin to describe the security he strangely feels when he finds himself wrapped in your wings. Both laying in his bed, his smaller frame being held in yours, your wings surrounding him in a warmth of feathers, as if trying to shield him from everything that has happened to him in the past. You don't mind if he stays here for a little while, right?
Silver: Does not always see you when you snatch these shiny objects you seem to gravitate towards but finds it a tad amusing when he is told of these little events. it seems to be more so things you find randomly throughout the campus rather than something that belonged to someone. Your wings make for both the perfect pillow and blanket. So soft, warm, and fluffy. Has been found more than once asleep within them. Lilia has so many pictures.
Sebek: Clearly in awe of your wings. Their size, the strength they hold, the color, the shape of them, how the light reflects off of them, how they flow in the wind. The man is a mess, to be honest. Again, you also seem to gravitate towards shiny materials that are laying around campus rather than taking it off of someone. He often remarks how fae-like some of these behaviors are as well. Has been in contact with Lilia and members of his family (namely his grandfather who may know a thing or two about winged species). Slowly becomes a pro at taking care of you and these wings.
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Have a wonderful day/night!
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roosterforme · 10 days ago
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Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.
Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo
Length: 3200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.
"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 
He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.
"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.
LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.
With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"
Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.
"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."
He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.
Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.
-----------------------------------
You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.
"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.
It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."
While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.
You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.
You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.
When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.
"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.
"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."
Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."
"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."
You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."
"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."
You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"
"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.
You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?
Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.
You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.
When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.
"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.
What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.
You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.
The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.
When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.
--------------------------------
Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.
Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."
"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."
The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.
"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.
It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.
You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.
He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."
Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.
"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."
Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."
She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"
"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."
Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."
Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.
"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."
One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"
He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."
Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."
Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 
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Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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polarisjisung · 10 months ago
Text
KISSES WITH NCT DREAM
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pairings: nct dream × fem! reader
genre: fluff
warnings: mentions of giving hickeys (for jeno) + reader is implied to have long(ish) hair + use of pet names
notes: a little different to usual but i want to post more often and I love reading these little headcanons! although I do need to switch it up from all the fluff 🫠
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MARK-cozy morning kisses:
mark loves lazy mornings, holding you by the waist to make sure you don't have a chance to escape the warmth of the duvet you're all wrapped up in. sure your hair's a little messy but mark loves the domesticity of waking up next to you. you'll make every attempt to make your way out of the confines of your shared double bed but mark ultimately wins, shutting you up with a kiss when he feels like you're talking too much
"mark baby, please I have work" mark could not care less— really, they should've made it illegal to work weekends
"you have a boyfriend too" he'd tuck the hair falling from your ponytail behind your ear and you're a sucker for the way he'd let his palm rest over your cheek as he pulls you into his chest underneath the covers
"markie, I'll get fired" you know you'd lost the battle the second mark let his eyes land on your lips, the ones that were still shining from the left over lip mask you'd applied the night before, but you still try to bolt out of the covers as fast as you can, undoubtedly you'll get pulled back in by mark just a few seconds later
"don't run from me baby" he's all pouty, you know its all just a facade to get a couple extra minutes in bed with you but saying no to mark just wasn't one of your capabilities
when you finally sigh in defeat,
"just 5 minutes" with a roll of your eyes, he's peppering sweet kisses all over your face, placing a couple pecks on your lips too
"I'll take 5 minutes"
best believe he'll take a lot more than just 5
RENJUN-stupid adorable smiley kisses:
kisses with renjun start out ever so gentle, a quick touch of your lips before he's checking to see your reaction. doesn't matter how long you've been dating, renjun still gives you butterflies every damn time, and he's the same with you, all giddy and kicking his feet, so you both start out so smiley against each other's lips, soft and sweet. on occasion renjun likes to go for deep, more meaningful passionate kisses, and the second you see his starry eyes staring up at you, grin formed into a soft smile, you know his hand is going to reach for your jaw and his lips are going to move rushed against yours
there's a sparkle in his eyes, a glint that tells you renjun won't stop at a few pecks— naturally you don't mind at all
"my love?" he coos, looking up at you, taking in your features as though he's trying to commit every detail of your pretty face to memory, your moles, the shape of your lips and your sparkling eyes, he would memorise it all in that very moment
you swear he looks at you as though you've painted the sky and hung the stars, and every time you catch yourself wondering what you've done to be lucky enough to deserve him
"I love you" as those words slip so effortlessly out of his lips, he'll guide you with a hand against the back of your head to meet his lips again, with more urgency this time
"I love you too" you'd breathe out, an oppurtunity you'd never miss
JENO-neck kisses
jeno loves your lips, kisses, pecks, full on make out sessions— he doesn't mind. but every time he finds your hair tied back and your neck on display he sees it as the perfect chance to show that you're absolutely not single, very much taken in fact. jeno finds joy in carving his initials into your neck or leaving small, unintentional patterns behind sucking and gently biting at the warm skin on your neck. the kisses eventually trail their way up across the bone of your jaw, his hands tugging at the ends of your hair as he twirls it between his fingers. jeno wants it all, quick kisses will do if you're out and about but the second you're home, kissing is at least a 20 minute task.
when you're out, be it hanging out with friends or running errands together, especially in the summer, when you like to tie your hair back a lot more frequently, jeno finds himself going absolutely feral, he's like a child begging his mother to go home
your back is against the wall the second you step through the door, jeno's lips impatiently capturing yours. he's a literal animal, he'll devour any lipstick you're wearing like it was never even there, before his kisses land on your collarbone.
"knew what you were doing when you tied your hair up baby hmm?" jeno likes to think you do it on purpose, to mess with him just a little, admittedly you do, but if you could be honest it had been solely unintentional this time
"come on jeno" your hands land on his chest, almost avoiding the hungry search of his lips for the skin of your neck "didn't know you were so needy"
you like to tease him, his cute agitated kisses becoming a little more intense at your words
equally jeno finds no shame in just how crazy he is for you
"needy for you baby, only you"
something about his urgency mixed with his loyalty forces you to forget about the hickeys you'll spend hours covering up over the next few weeks
HAECHAN- tip of your nose kisses:
haechan loves a makeout session as much as the next person, and despite his forward and bold attitude, sometimes the hard-core kisses just aren't what he's looking for. his favourite solution? kissing the tip of your nose, he likes booping your nose here and there as it is, but in his softest moments, where you find his eyes staring your way in pure awe, haechan's eyes travel to the tip of your nose immediately. it doesn't take long for his lips to follow— a tentative kiss to make sure you're in the mood to be absolutely bombarded with his love
forehead kisses are a close second, and eventually haechan gives in to delicate tender kisses on your lips, his fingers interlaced with yours
"have I ever told you I love you?" kisses with haechan are playful, so you can always tell he's in the mood when that adorable toothy grin shines it's way at you
"multiple times hyuck, every day actually" you'd respond, so giggly that he swears he's falling in love with you all over again, he's not sure if it's possible quite frankly, considering he thinks the same thought everyday
"that's what you deserve baby, I love you" he'd waddle his way over to you on the sofa, that smirk on his face that tells you everything you need to know— the kiss lands perfectly in the centre of your nose, your face soon hidden away in your hands
"don't get shy on me now baby, you know what I wanna hear" he's already trying to get another look at your pretty eyes and when he successfully gets your hands to slide down your face, places a chaste kiss to your forehead
"I love you too hyuck"
"can't hear you buttercup, you're gonna have to show me that pretty face so I can lip read" he's a little too proud of his words, and when you do let your hands down, his lips are all over yours
JAEMIN-lip gloss kisses:
jaemin is a sucker for those shiny, perfect glossy lips of yours, he's a sucker for you full stop, but your lips are practically a superpower.
now jaemin hates strawberries but that pretty pink lip gloss of yours with a little shimmer and that strawberry scent is his absolute favourite, he swears it makes your eyes pop 10x more it's perfect— you're perfect
he loves showering you with affection, be it hugs or kisses, holding your hand or whispering sweet nothings into your ear, jaemin treats you like an absolute princess and when his princess is all dressed up and so absolutely gorgeous, he can't help but ask for one thing for himself. not that jaemin doesn't love seeing you lounging around casually, he thinks you look gorgeous all the time, but seeing the confidence that oozes from your being when you're ready for a big event has his stomach doing backflips
his arms wrap around your waist quicker than you can twist the tube of your lip gloss shut— really there was no point going through your extensive lip combo routine because you should've known jaemin would eat it all up
"my sweet sweet girl, do you think I could have a kiss?" jaemin likes to get extra affectionate in these moments, clinging to you with a smile that reaches his eyes, just to make sure there's no way you can say no
"but nana my lip gloss" you're always trying to make excuses, really it was just because lip products were starting to get expensive, but you don't mind blowing more money on them if it meant you'd have a love like jaemin
"hmm, I'll buy more for you, just give me a kiss pretty please?"
you only make one more attempt at stalling, you know better that you're not winning this battle
"but nana it'll get all over you"
he shrugs, so unbothered you swear you hear your heartbeat ring in your ears
"I like it like that"
jaemin loves the way you tenderly hold his face before you seal his lips in a kiss, when you pull away his lips are glittery and pink just like yours, but his smile seems to have grown ten fold
"you look so pretty nana, my princess" he nods
"your princess, all yours" before locking your lips against his once again
CHENLE-spiderman kisses:
chenle loves the movie, chenle loves you, to him it just made sense and the spiderman kiss has easily become his favourite way to greet you as he walked through the door.
most days chenle would find you seated on the couch, finishing up a project for work when he'd get home, his hand would wrap under your chin and slightly over your neck with ease, lips locking with yours momentarily
"I missed you" he'd whisper, every time as he pulled away from you, placing his things down to a side and slipping into the empty space beside you. his arm would find its rightful place resting over your shoulder before his lips would brush over yours again
"I missed you too"
the both of you would bask in the warm intimacy of the moment, something between you, only for you, that the both of you would secretly look forward to day in and day out
to chenle that was enough, that daily welcome home kiss was practically routine and it was a routine he'd grown used to, practically to the point where when he'd walk in and you weren't working away at a desk or on the sofa, anywhere he could easily guide your head backwards and press his lips to yours, the rest of his day would be ruined
dramatic, would be the best way to describe a kiss deprived chenle
JISUNG-hand kisses:
to jisung kisses are one of the truest levels of intimacy, they come with philosophical and ethical discussions and debates, prophesies of where the universe might be heading in ten years or why you shouldn't take things in life for granted
jisung liked to think, and he appreciated being able to share and discuss his thoughts with you, to him that seemed like one of the purest forms of love, being unashamed to share even the most wild and crazy theories with each other
he admired your passion, the way you'd get lost between your own thoughts, in your own world as you explained a concept to him, one of the many reasons jisung loved you, and in those moments a press of his lips to the knuckles of your hand, already intertwined with his, seemed perfect, like the cherry on top
"I think it's crazy how we don't realise so much of what goes on around us" you're sharing one of those moments of yours again, when you feel like you'd noticed something that made a big impact on your point of view in life and jisung can't help but let that gummy smile flash over his lips, his thumb rubbing up and down the outer surface of your hand
it's beautiful to him, how your legs are laying over his and how you rest your head against his chest and his fingers rake through your hair while you find yourselves in this moment, for a second jisung stops listening, or at least attentively so, trying to take in this fleeting moment of what he thought was the most important part of loving someone
"sung, you seem out of it?" you'd ask the question so concerned, despite a little guilt that he hadn't been able to listen to you, jisung would smile softly and shake his head
"just thinking about how lucky I am to have you"
and his hand would lift yours, quickly pressing a feathery kiss to your knuckles
"I love you" he'd say, a phrase he didn't say often, scared it would lose its meaning, but one he'd say just enough that you'd known how much you meant to him
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eiightysixbaby · 4 months ago
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princess leia, and other wishes
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pairing: bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader
wishing on a star? i guess it can’t hurt… (1.7k)
cw: mutual pining, eddie calls r an asshole playfully, fluff fluff fluff
a/n: just something short and sweet with our favorite guy 🥹 this really started as something smaller to give me a break from writing my longer oneshots. enjoy!!
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The grass is prickly beneath your fingers, your palm outstretched beyond the edges of the blanket beneath you, pulling absentmindedly at the lush green strands.
Night fell some time ago, the sky a deep inky blue above you with stars that twinkle spectacularly as far as the eye can see.
Eddie lays beside you, hands clasped on his chest as he looks up at the bright flickering dots. You’d come out to this field on a whim, a random suggestion from him to go stargazing. Tucked high on a hill, away from the lights of Hawkins, you feel as though you can see every galaxy.
Occasionally you find yourself stealing glances at him, watching the way his chest rises and falls easily with each breath. If you were braver, you’d roll onto your side and study every inch of his face, radiantly beautiful even in the dark.
You feel his pinky finger graze your side, and you turn your face to his.
“You need to come up with a wish, in case we see a shooting star,” he says, his voice conspiratorial, like he’s telling you about a top-secret operation.
The corner of your mouth twitches in a sort of smile. “D’you believe in that junk?”
He chuckles lightly, shrugging. “Not really, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
“Yeah. Worth a shot,” you reply, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest.
Both of you turn your faces back to the sky, listening to the crickets chirp in the grass around you. Occasionally you hear the faint, dreamlike sound of car horns honking on the roads beyond. Being here with Eddie, in your quiet secluded oasis all alone, only ramps up your suppressed longing for him. Your right hand and his left rest mere centimeters apart from each other on the worn blanket, and you swear your skin vibrates with the desire to touch his.
You allow yourself a moment to wonder if he's feeling the same urge, if it's as hard for him to hold back as it is for you. The weight of your yearning is heavy on your chest, as if you have an anvil sitting on top of you and stealing your breath. You curse yourself for letting it get this bad, this stupid crush on your best friend that never should've started to begin with.
You're broken from your thoughts as one of his hands reaches out to grab your arm, his other hand pointing up at the velvety blue above. Sure enough, a shooting star streaks across the sky; a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment. As you watch it, you're unaware of the fact that Eddie is watching you.
One foolish wish crosses your mind.
"Okay, I honestly didn't think we'd actually see one," Eddie says beside you. His fingers release their grip on your arm, and you find yourself missing the soft squeeze of them. “So, what'd ya wish for?” He waggles his brows expectantly, waiting for your answer.
You swallow hard before forcing yourself into a lighthearted tone. “No way, if I tell you it won't come true.”
He scoffs, rolling onto his side so he's facing you. “What happened to not believing in 'that junk'?” he jokes. “Now you're getting all superstitious on me.”
You match his movement, rolling onto your side as well.
“My wishes are top secret, sorry,” you reply, miming zipping your lips shut.
“No fair! What if I tell you mine?”
“Let me guess, you wished Steve would finally let you steal that Slave Leia cardboard cutout from Family Video?”
He narrows his eyes. “Okay, am I that predictable?”
“Yes,” you say deadpan, trying not to crack a smile. He doesn't reply, just stares at you, like he's committing every inch of your face to his permanent memory. It's too much, and you avert your gaze abruptly from his deep brown eyes. You're suddenly far too close to him, and your heart feels like it might claw out of your chest and find a home in his instead.
You lie on your back once more, your breathing shallow as your heartbeat races.
A finger pokes you in the ribs.
“Will you pleeeeease tell me what you wished for?” Eddie asks, giving you his best pout and puppy eyes.
“What if I didn’t wish for anything?”
“Nice try.”
“Why is it so important to you what I wished for?” you ask, intending to stall as long as you can. You could come up with a lie, some dumb filler wish, but you know Eddie would see right through it.
“Honestly, the fact that you won’t tell me is driving me crazy. So now I need to know or I’ll literally die.”
You huff, reaching a hand out to cover his still-pouting face with an open palm. “You are SO dramatic.”
His tongue licks a flat stripe up your palm, making you recoil with a gasp. You go to swat at him, but he moves quicker than you, pinning your arms down on either side of your head. His knees press into the blanket on either side of you, his body hovering over yours but not quite touching anywhere.
He’s keeping his distance. Your heart aches. You want more than anything to pull him into you, press your lips to his.
“Tell me your wish, you little asshole!” he says, a devious smile playing on his lips.
When you don’t return his playfulness, his teasing, is when his brow furrows. You look too serious beneath him, lost in thought. He moves again to sit beside you, letting go of the hold he had on your wrists.
“Hey, what’s up? If it’s that big of a deal, you don’t have to tell me. Swear, I was just messing around.”
You shake your head, groaning softly as you rub your hands down your face, your skin stretching with the motion. “Eddie, you have no idea.”
“What do you mean?”
Your words barely come out audible the first time, and he can’t hear you over the singing crickets and the slight breeze rustling the leaves.
“I wished for you,” you say again, after he asks you to repeat yourself.
“Me? But I’m— I’m right here. I’m sorry, are you being funny, or?” he trails off, not putting the pieces together in his head.
“Eddie,” you say, sitting up now.
“Yeah?”
This is a bad idea, you think to yourself. Bad idea bad idea bad idea.
And yet you push yourself to keep talking. To not lose your nerve. To get an answer, finally. Because there’s a smaller voice in your head that’s telling you this is right.
“Can I kiss you?”
His eyes go wide, confusion crossing his features like he’s not sure he heard you right. “Wh- me? Now? You want to kiss me?”
He’s not into it. Retreat. Retreat. Retreat.
“I wished for you,” you say with a shaky inhale. “Because I want you, as more than a friend.” You’re speaking so quietly he has to lean in to hear you.
He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and for once you can’t gauge his expression. You’re ready to tell him to forget it, to get up and haul ass out of this field and back to the van, but then he clears his throat.
“Swear you’re not messing with me,” he says finally. His eyes search your face almost frantically, and your breath catches in your throat.
“I’m not messing with you, Eddie. I mean it.” You aren’t sure how you even manage to say the words. You feel like all of the oxygen has left your lungs.
“Well, shit. Then yeah,” he says, almost bashfully. “Yeah, you can kiss me.”
Your eyes blow wide, blinking at him while you make sure you heard him right.
“I can?”
“Did you think I’d say no? Shit, sweetheart, I would’ve let you kiss me ages ago. O-or I would’ve done it myself, but y’know, I didn’t want to cross a line or anything—”
“Eddie,” you say, a smile breaking out on your face.
“Damn, my wish was so fucking stupid. I mean you’re out here wishing for me, and I really couldn’t see the signs? I’m so sorry—”
“Eddie!” He stops his rambling, eyes wide as they meet yours.
You don’t give him the chance to say anything else, leaning forward into his personal space. You let one hand come up to hold his jaw gently, pressing your lips to his in your final act of bravery.
It’s such a fucking cliche, but you swear there’s fireworks going off the moment you kiss each other. You can see them behind your closed eyelids, vibrant colors bursting before you. His lips are so soft against yours, the way you’d imagined them to be on all of those restless nights spent tossing and turning and yearning in your bed.
When you pull away, you can hear your heartbeat loud in your ears. His eyes are huge and bright, like the galaxies up above shrunk down to fit inside his dark irises. Neither of you know what to say at first, and it’s silent until you both erupt into a fit of giggles. His hands are warm when they take yours, letting his thumbs run over your knuckles.
“Can we please do that again?” he asks, a sweet smirk tugging at one corner of his pretty mouth.
In lieu of a verbal response, you simply lean back into him, kissing him harder this time. Far more sure of yourself. His hands find your waist, holding you so softly. You'd be perfectly content staying in this moment forever, fireflies twinkling in the grass surrounding you as your mouth moves slowly against Eddie's.
There’s no awkwardness, not a single hint of doubt pooling in your gut. His hands feel like they were made to hold you and his lips slot with yours like they were molded to fit together. This time it's him who pulls away, a boyish grin spreading across his face.
“Would you look at that,” he says. “Wishes really do come true.”
“Should we go talk to Steve about yours?” you tease, letting your nose brush against his.
A puff of air leaves his nose, a quiet laugh. "Nah, I'm good with this."
“Me too.”
When he eases you down onto the blanket, his weight on top of yours as he kisses you breathless, you have no complaints. The stars twinkle down at you, and everything is perfect.
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golden-cherry · 11 months ago
Text
deal - cl16 (21/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.
Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it
Word Count: 3.4k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.
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Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.
The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.
His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own. 
You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep. 
You don't want to be awake. 
Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.
All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.
But you still don't know why he treated you like that.
You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days. 
The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.
"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."
Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window. 
Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.
You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.
He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."
Jealous?
A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –
"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."
You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body. 
That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically. 
But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"
As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.
"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.
Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"
You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."
Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"
You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."
His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."
"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."
"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job." 
"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.
And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"
The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"
You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch. 
"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"
Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."
"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective. 
The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."
He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.
"You have a nutritionist."
Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him." 
Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"
"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."
You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"
"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."
You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"
"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."
"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.
He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."
So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?" 
"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."
You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -
"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"
Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."
Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word. 
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."
"Scared? Of what?"
"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."
You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."
"Haha."
You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."
Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."
"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name." 
"But?"
"Do you really need reasons?"
"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin. 
"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -" 
A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.
It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.
Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."
"Mm-hmm." 
"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."
"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier. 
"But -"
Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me." 
When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck. 
He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. 
You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it. 
"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."
"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke. 
Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face. 
"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."
"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."
Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin. 
He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."
next part
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sukunasweetheart · 1 year ago
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👀👉🏾👈🏾 Sukuna x Reader ex's to lovers?
wowowow i cant believe im doing like another celebrity au again but here goes nothing ahaha...
i love this trope, i ended up writing a WHOLE, lengthy ass, detailed plotline on it i hope u dont mind <3 (A WHOLE WHOPPING 6K WORDS YALL)
prepare for hella angst, OOC sukuna, insecure fem!reader, ghosting, messy break up, conflicting and complicated feelings + sexual tension and then intense smut @ the end (make up sex)
imagine sukuna being like, an amateur model-turned-actor, with you being his highschool sweetheart, who was there to support him since day one
a very happy, fulfilling relationship for the most part-- until he starts gaining huge amounts of popularity.
youve always known that he was meant and born to reach sky-high levels of success, and you were certain he was going to make it one day
but things get rockier by the second, and insecurity is such an ugly, ugly thing
seeing him model with other beautiful celebrities, acting in roles where he had a love interest to kiss and fondle, reading those gossip scandal articles involving him and another party every few months or so-
it all got too much for you.
all you needed was some reassurance... but young and vivacious sukuna, drunk on this fame and attention, failed to recognise that and left you feeling neglected.
not on purpose tho, he's never engaged in infidelity, he's never gazed upon someone else with lust or love on his mind - he was using everyone around him as a stepping stone towards his own career
sukuna's known you since forever, and he was confident that you knew his affection for you was unwavering... so he failed to understand where you were coming from whenever you brought these things up
arguments after arguments after arguments
the worst part of it was that he wanted to keep his relationship with you a secret. saying something about how having a significant other would slow his progress in his career down... the decision was urged on by the entertainment company that he was in a contract with
it hurt so damn much when he was being interviewed on tv about his romantic life, only for him to tell the world he was single.
it leads to more arguing.
of course, as a rising celebrity, he was quite awfully busy with many business trips and attending a lot of parties and galas
another terrible fight occurred right before he had to leave for a flight overseas but by then, youd pretty much already decided that you were going to leave him
you basically ghosted him, packing all your belongings overnight, blocking his number and all his social media accounts, making sure even all yours and his mutual friends didn't know of your whereabouts. you're going to start fresh. and give him no closure.
it was petty revenge, and maybe immature of you, but you were just as young as he was, and you wanted him to hurt as badly as you were hurting back then.
sukuna's still overseas, having just come back from another fancy gathering and is fresh out of the shower, in his hotel room... he decides he's gonna try and give you a call, but ofc you don't pick up
he sighs and convinces himself that he'll sort things out with you later when he gets back, not knowing that there won't be a 'later'.
meanwhile you're dragging a suitcase out of the apartment, taking a taxi somewhere else far away, crying as you pass by giant billboards that have pictures of sukuna plastered all over
he feels like such a faraway person now. no longer someone who you used to cuddle closely in bed, or hold hands with. you're not even sure of who you are without him anymore.
you could imagine his reaction when he came home, only to find your entire existence missing. seriously, it was like you were never there. you left nothing of yours behind, and the place was cleaned spick and span, not a hair of yours to be found.
when was the last time sukuna felt so panicked?? this dull ache in his chest, as he spams you calls and texts that never reach you
he contacts mutual friends in rotation but everyone is absolutely clueless... he considers filing a missing persons case but then a trusted friend of yours tells him to not look for you... and that you wanted them to relay a message to him, just a simple goodbye.
what the fuck are you talking about?
oh, here comes a severe headache.
his mind is whirring with overlapping memories, thoughts, regrets, thinking about any clues that might give away where you couldve gone, but theres simply nothing
the shock moves into sorrow, then denial, and then it turns to anger. does he mean nothing to you? so much so that youd abandon him without saying a word?
its like he was going through the five stages of grief, but for someone who he knew was still alive..
eventually, he finds a rebound out of spite. if youve left him, then it's means he's free and single, right? he gets himself piss-drunk, and beds another, only to wake up feeling absolutely disgusted. it feels like... it feels like he's cheated on you. even though you're already gone. he's just a mess of conflicting emotions, and it lasts for so long.
the reason why he doesnt hire someone or use some other underhanded method to actually look for you is because of a weird mixture of both his pride and feelings of insecurity, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you do deserve someone better, someone who understands you more... (and he's also fearful that someone like you, might've already found love somewhere else, and he's definitely not confident that he'll be able to act maturely if he sees its true)
eventually, acceptance does come... but does it really?
i like to think he went through many failed relationships, his partners always leaving him upon witnessing him getting intoxicated and calling for none other than your name in his state. someone who no one around him knows anymore.
years pass, and time really does allow you to forget. for both you and sukuna alike. in your mid thirties, both of you are single at this time.
you've been busy with your new job at some company (dont ask me, i was too lazy to decide what kind, so u guys can make this one up bye), and he made sure to keep himself busy as well. no time for fleeting romance.
of course, until fate does that weird thing where it pushes people together again... a new project lands in your lap, where it involves some kind of collaboration with THE celebrity, ryomen sukuna. of fucking course.
you really did desperately try to get it off and pass this off to some other colleague but they insisted your involvement was necessary. what are you supposed to do? you almost decide to quit... but this job means a lot to you... you can't just throw everything away because of an ex... right?
and, oh my god, when the first meeting does happen, involving the celebrity himself, you and a couple other coworkers to discuss the project, sukuna sees you and his brain short circuits for a moment.
he starts doubting his own vision, and then he reminisces, in the middle of whatever the fuck everyone else was talking about during the meeting.
"... Mr. Ryomen?" one of the other participants ask.
he clears his throat, regains his composure and regathers his focus. he's an actor for god's sake. and he starts speaking, with thoughts of you in the back of his mind. about how much youve changed, but also remained exactly the same...
during introductions, you shake his hand and act professionally. his eye twitches. will you continue to pretend not to know him even afterwards? should he talk to you separately after this? no... doing that would mean he's the desperate one...
when you saw sukuna hesitating, part of you felt relieved. so you're not the only one getting freaked out. you don't expect him to acknowledge you anymore, though.
after the meeting, he walks out feeling confident that he's going to ignore you back, if this was the kind of game you're going to play with him. you mean nothing to him, just as he means nothing to you.
but he remembers the shock that went down his spine at the feeling of the warmth in your hand. he watches you take an elevator by yourself, and tries to make a split second decision on whether he wants to let you go, or if he wants to chase you down.
he probably shouldn't bother.
but he impulsively speed walks down towards you, anyway.
youre startled when the elevator doors are blocked from closing just at the last second, with someone's arm coming through between. your heart skips a beat seeing that it's none other than sukuna.
what is this sensation? this mix of fear and... excitement. you should be unperturbed. you're over him. he's someone from the past. you're buzzing with these feelings, but there also comes a creeping resentment that finds its way to you again, as you try to remember why you left him in the first place.
he unclicks whatever level you were heading to, and clicks on the highest level instead. he's gonna take you to the rooftop of the building, where he can confront you peacefully.
"Mr. Ryomen? Is there something wrong?" you ask him. still feigning ignorance. like salt to a wound. you know its another petty move from your part, but you can't help yourself.
"Don't call me that. You know damn well why I'm here," Sukuna drawls, sounding more sad than angry. they've really become strangers.
you grow silent, being hit with a pang of guilt. deep down, you knew you shouldve handled it more maturely than that. he deserved closure, and you needed it too. but isn't it too late for all that now?
the conversation flows tense, but unravels slowly. there's still a lot of questions being withheld though. he wants to ask you how youve been. were you able to sleep peacefully after you left him? why did you have to leave in the worst way possible?
a familiar headache creeps up.
simultaneously, the anger finds its way in his heart all over again. he knows he didn't do much good towards the end of their relationship either but ghosting him was plain disrespectful and childish.
you surprise him when you give a sudden heartfelt apology.
you tell him that you know apologising now after all these years is frankly almost meaningless but still, he didnt deserve to be left behind in that kind of way. you admit that you should've communicated with him properly that you were breaking up with him.
he's left kinda speechless, bc he was so ready to be all snarky to you after everything.. he's still mad, but he can't really say shit anymore without sounding like too much of an asshole.
truth be told, if you did stay around to tell him that you were breaking up with him beforehand, he probably wouldn't have let you go... where would you guys be now, if you never separated?
"i've always wanted to apologise. it's been weighing on me ever since i left."
...and yet, you didn't ever think to call or text him even once afterwards? he never changed his number in hopes for that, and he hates himself for it.
"i understand that you hate me now, but let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. and then we can part ways again."
that one pierces his heart, like a bullet. you haven't said anything technically wrong. he should hate you. or at least, he should feel indifferent by now. and yet... the way that you automatically assume so irks him badly.
"do you really believe that i hate you? aren't you the one that hates me?"
it's a stupid fucking question. what the fuck is he even saying? he wants to kick the elevator door.
"...i left because i thought you hated me, that you didn't need me anymore. and i tried to convince myself that i hated you too. but that couldn't be further from the truth. even now, i don't ha-"
before you can say any more, the elevator doors open, and a small group of employees are standing outside them, looking curiously in at you and sukuna. then, they realise who he is. they come flocking in, asking for autographs and pictures.
you quietly slip out of the crowd, and after giving one quick glance at sukuna, who visibly wants to pursue you again, you walk away to avoid gathering attention on yourself. wait-! dammit- he thinks.
he can't chase after you. he can't call out for you to stop. he can't push all of these people away. if he did, it will cause rumours and unfavourable articles to fly out. let's try to get through the collaboration without trouble. his own fame becomes another obstacle between you and him.
back then, you were his whole world, yet somewhere along the path, he started to fail in making you feel like it.
he watches you take the fire exit towards the emergency stairs, while he's surrounded by overbearing fans who beg for his attention. you're going to have to walk down in your heels, all because of him. as he catches the final glimpse of you, as he's reluctantly dealing with his fans, he begins to understand, a little bit. he didn't want to understand why you decided to leave him. but he does now. a little.
a couple of stairwells down, you eventually pause for a moment and sit down on the last step to take a breather. you wipe your sweaty palms against your skirt. the familiar tug at your heart, in which your insecurities come flowing back to you, seeing him surrounded. you need to build higher, stronger walls around you from now.
when sukuna is done on his end, and sends them off down the elevator, he goes off to check down the stairs you went, but you've already booked it. slipped right through his fingers. you were about to say something important. with unresolved feelings, sukuna also takes the stairs down, with a heavy heart. each step down brings him another old, nostalgic memory of you to him.
from then on, the more he interacts with you during work-related matters, the more apparent it becomes that he still harbors feelings for you. he tries to ignore it, push it back down, but it only returns twice as overwhelming.
your voice. the way you smile. the scent of your perfume. exactly the same as back then. yet, he also observes the changes that have occurred in you; how you act, speak and the kinds of words you use, as well as seeing you in such a professional setting rather than personal - everything is coming together to allure him more, and he's in a state where he's unable to resist this attraction, but also unable to act on it, because he's not sure how you'd react to it.
he knows it's not just him getting drunk on nostalgia.
the next time he catches you alone, he makes sure to tell you that he doesn't hate you like you believe he does. you'd never admit it, but that gave you butterflies in your stomach.
in fact, everything sukuna does, even just locking eyes with you for a few seconds, is enough to make your heart rate increase, intensifying when he looks at you almost like... almost like he wants you. you must be imagining things.
he finds himself doing uncharacteristic deeds, like sending coffee for all the staff members. his manager passes them out to everybody, including you. he doesn't know if you still like your coffee the same way as he remembers, but he makes sure that yours is a little different, a little more specific than everyone else's, in hopes that you'll notice these small gestures of his.
over the course of the project, he inches closer to you, ever so slowly. but you don't seem to budge. even worse, you seem to be avoiding him as much as you possibly can. you avert your gaze from his. stagger away when he gets close.
he brings it up on one occasion, when he's able to approach you at the back of the building, where there's no one around, and no watchful eyes of a nosy audience. it's definitely frustrating and unpleasant- when he wants to speak with you, he has to keep distance in case another scandal rises. he doesn't want to drag you into the spotlight, without knowing if you're okay with it first.
sukuna only really talks to you when there's nobody around. maybe he's being considerate of you, but it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to be seen hanging around with you. it makes you remember things you don't want to. it makes you remember that being with him now requires a courage that you're not sure that you have. at the very least, you know you definitely didn't have it back then.
you keep conversations short with him, and try to leave. but he keeps at it persistently. what is he trying to do? is he toying with you?
"you're acting like you want us to get back together. don't do things that'll make me misunderstand," you tell him. you were trying to provoke him. expecting him to deny it harshly and back away, because you knew he was prideful- he'd never be caught being hung up over an ex.
"...and? what if i told you that i do want that? would you stop avoiding me then?" he takes one step forward, and you take one back, proving his point.
why is he pushing aside his ego for you? where did all his arrogance go off to? this isn't how the sukuna in his twenties would've responded. his answer makes you waver, and you don't appreciate that. you try not to show it.
"no. i'd only begin to avoid you even more. so don't start."
"i'm not," you deny, but your voice betrays you. he clings onto that.
"why? ...afraid that you'd cave in to me?"
like the way he's already pretty much caved in for you?
"you don't sound very convincing."
"...would you want someone who'd choose their career over you?"
that stops him in his tracks. he has nothing to say to that. because he did make that mistake. where he prioritised his job over your feelings.
"i don't hate or blame you for that anymore, sukuna. but you have to understand... i don't want to go through that pain ever again. i don't want to hold you back. we both deserve more compatible partners."
your own words sting yourself, and you try to go again right after saying that, because it's getting too much for you. his hand flies out to grab yours out of instinct, to stop you from leaving. leaving him again.
it's really not like him to be the clingy ex, pathetically begging to be taken back, but he's willing to throw such pride away if it means you'll be appeased. if you'll let him back into your life again.
"don't say that. you never held me back-- you were my home and my everything, and i was the one that started to take you for granted," he says gently, his low voice laced with sorrow, so uncharacteristically. you've only ever heard this kind of tone from him once before, and it was when his grandfather, who was like a parent to him, had passed away. his thumb brushes over your hand.
"give me another chance. this time i'll let the whole world know about us. about how much you mean to me."
he gets in close ever so slowly, and you let him, for only a moment, before gently pushing him away, with a hand on his chest.
sukuna hitches in a breath, heart sinking to his stomach. he wants to embrace you so, so, so bad. he needs your warmth. always has been. always will. but he sees that you're unrelenting, which breaks him.
"no, stop... i'm sorry, i can't."
you're still scared. you keep thinking about how lonely you felt when you were with him, at least right before the break up. seeing him laughing through the tv screen. alone in the living room. and all the arguments.
your hand slips out of his, and he lets you go. he feels empty when you walk away. hollow. the similar feeling he felt when you first left him, but less anguish and more despair. when he gets home, he tries to drink those feelings away. something he rarely does. old regrets and heartaches return, and he drinks until he passes out.
while he drinks, you weep. crying into your pillow, wondering if you're doing the right thing. wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. terrified of being with him again, but also terrified of losing him, like a hypocrite.
from then on, sukuna keeps a respectful distance from you... no longer trying to make approaches in secret, no longer pursuing you every chance he gets. but he still sends out coffee. even provides snacks to the crew. little do they know, they're the kinds of snacks that he knows you loved. hopefully, you still do. he'll keep his distance because it's what you want, but he wishes to keep doing these little things for you. subtly.
and you notice it, too. you have vivid memories of telling him about your favourites and preferences back then, and you recognise what he's trying to do. you drink the coffee. and you always grab a handful of the snacks. you do appreciate it. it makes you happy that he remembers. on a few occasions, you turn to look at him, only to witness him looking away at the last second.
it's not too long before the project is successfully finalised, and all their efforts have been rewarded. a celebration is due, and your boss throws a party at a fancy hotel for everyone to enjoy themselves at. sukuna had stopped going to so many gatherings and parties quite a while ago, but he attends knowing that you'll be there as well. he'll see you for the final time before he'll lose any excuses to be around you ever again. it'll be the final night.
you exchange a few words with him at the venue, but the two of you leave each other to mingle with other groups reluctantly, to avoid suspicion. both of you are quite tense all throughout the night, sipping on some wine to ease it, but it still doesn't relax the tension you feel, no matter how far away sukuna stands from you.
a few hours in, and you decide to excuse yourself early to head up into your designated hotel room. your boss covered the expenses for a night, and it would've been a waste to decline it, so you decided to stay. sukuna isn't around anywhere at the venue anymore, so you assume he's already left. you thought about saying farewell, but it didn't seem appropriate after you flat out rejected him. you still have doubts about the decision. because you miss him. but what's done is done, and you can't take back what you've already said.
however, getting to the hotel elevator, you notice he's standing there, with miraculous timing. you awkwardly "hey" him, and he says it back, hands in his pockets.
the two of you step inside when it arrives, and the thick tension remains.
"i'm surprised. i thought you'd be staying around longer for the party," you tell him.
he can't tell you that he found it unbearable, to see you hanging around other people, but being unable to get closer to you himself.
"i just got a bit tired," he lies. "did you have a lot to drink?"
"not at all. i had a few glasses, but i'm still sober."
"same here."
as the lift gets closer to your level, you get antsy, thinking about what to say before you leave, but your thoughts get interrupted when he asks you something abruptly.
"...can i walk you to your room? for the last time."
you swallow thickly on nothing, and feel how your chest aches at the words. last time.
"alright. sure," you say.
he wasn't expecting you to say yes, but he's glad you're letting him stay beside you a little longer. you're staring at the elevator doors, but he's looking at your face from the side. if only the lift would malfunction and stop, right here.
but it doesn't, and soon, he's really walking beside you as you get to your hotel room door, in silence. you unlock it using your key, and then that's it.
"thanks for walking me here," you say rather sheepishly. the thought of him wanting to spend even a few more seconds with you... your hold on the door knob is tight as you stand, face turned around to look at him. it's taking everything in you to stand your ground. last minute guilt and regrets are bombarding your thoughts, and...
"i'll say this now because i probably won't get another chance again," sukuna starts, looking directly into your eyes. his eyes are mellow, and he looks wistful.
"i'm sorry. i realised i never apologised, even though that's the first thing you did for me," he starts. he knows there's a mountain of reasons he is apologising for, but he decides he'll keep this short for your sake.
".. i can't lie to you and say that i wish for your happiness with someone else. 'm not that nice." you know it the best. and you understand, because you don't think you'd be able to withstand seeing him happy with someone else, either.
"find your happiness elsewhere, thanks," he grunts humorously. for god's sake. he's never been good at things like this. being heartfelt. at least it made you chuckle a bit. his expression of indignation melts away into a melancholic one again.
"i still love you." (always have, always will.)
you fight back sudden tears, and your throat begins to ache. sukuna unclenches his fist, and tries to relax himself more.
"and...i'll miss you," he breathes the phrase out. says it so quietly, like it hurts for him to say. (i don't want to let you go.)
something snaps within you and everything starts to scream at you to take everything back, and stop him from going away. don't go- don't go- don't go-
"...goodnight."
he notices your wet eyes, and he has to fight back against the urge to reach out and wipe it away. to rescind his farewell, and pull you into his arms again - forcefully, if he has to. he needs to leave, before he loses control.
you're panicking, and your vision is swimming, and you don't think you'll ever be happy again if you let him go like this-- you're gonna be heartbroken in the worst way imaginable. you want him back, and you know you're being unreasonable after turning him down like that, but you don't care anymore. you want to go against your fears. you want to try being with him again.
before you can stop yourself, your hand catches onto the hem of sukuna's sleeve, seconds before he takes another step away from you.
his eyes widen, and he looks at your grip on his sleeve, like he's checking to see if it's real, and he's not making this shit up in his mind. his heart beats impossibly fast. his hopes skyrocket. the world decided to have mercy on him.
"...you're being unfair, grabbing onto me like this. after i went through hell just now, trying to say goodbye." he's being awfully patient right now.
you don't respond, only silently weeping.
he waits to see if you'll let go, whether this was just an act out of a temporary fickle in your heart, but your grip remains tight, and you're now just looking up at him with tears rolling down, eyes glossy and desperate, pulling at his heart strings. you only let go when he comes back to you, not hesitant to brush his thumbs across your face now, wiping the wetness away.
"what do you want me to do? tell me, and i'll do it. leave? stay?" sukuna coos at you, like he's always done before, waiting patiently until you've calmed down enough to respond properly.
"i shouldn't... i shouldn't let you in. not after how much i'd pushed you away," you whisper. today was supposed to mark the end of it all.
he doesn't even give a fuck about that anymore. what matters is now.
"...but do you want to let me in?"
"...yes," you hic.
he takes a couple of steps forward, making you step back with him, his hand on your waist to make sure you don't trip on the way. he goes past the doorway and into your hotel room slowly. one- two- three- steps. he closes the door behind him quietly.
"and..? what next?" he asks in a low voice, standing close to you, one hand still remaining on your waist, and the other on your upperarm.
"i... i don't know. i just need you," you mumble, looking up at him, eyes red from crying and half-closed. your hands inch up along his back, grabbing handfuls of his suit jacket. sukuna hitches in a breath and something dark flashes across his eyes. they reflect his desire, his almost carnal desperation for you-
"forgive me. i don't think i can hold myself back, anymore."
he captures your lips in his, and groans shamelessly into you. you grip onto him tighter, heart beating so rambunctiously that you fear he can hear it too. it feels too good. the moment he reached you, it felt like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in to complete a full picture.
you part your mouth, and he wastes no time in slipping his tongue inside, kissing you in the way he knows you love, in the way it makes your lips tingle, and, oh god, even after all these years, he still knows how to get you going like no other.
sukuna tastes the traces of wine on your tongue, and even better, he tastes you, the one he'd been missing and craving all this time, the warmth of your skin and touch, your scent, just everything about you, you, you.
he backs you towards the bed, without breaking this breathless, hungry kiss, where he softly lays you down, with him being above you, chest to chest, arms supporting his weight. he momentarily pulls away from you simply just to breathe, and the two of you gaze at each other for a hot second, full of love and lust, breaths overlapping one another. he attempts to ask you "do you still wanna continue?" just in case, but before he gets to say a word, you grab him by his tie and pull his lips to yours again, beginning to loosen it and take it off.
he understands that you want it, now. you successfully manage to untie it, somehow, with just willpower alone, and you start aiming for his buttons next, undoing them one by one. your actions send sparks down to all of his limbs, and he feels so fulfilled by your desire of him, being as intense as how he obsesses over you.
soon after you're done with it, he takes them off and chucks his own clothes away, rendering him half-naked. your hole clenches around nothing at the sight once he pulls away again, his firm muscles and the same old tattoos that you vividly remembered the patterns of. you greedily run your palms across his pecs, eyes turning to hearts. he smirks at you.
it's his turn now, and he doesn't hesitate to start undressing you as well. sukuna gets dizzy at the thought of being able to feast his eyes on your body. he dives in to keep kissing you, and then begins to unbutton you with such speed, it almost startles you.
it's off. your breasts are out in the open now, and sukuna has his fill with massaging them with his large hand, having missed them so much. his palm feels so hot, and your nipples pebble up at his touch, making you gasp into his mouth.
his kiss moves over to the side of your face, it glides down your neck, shoulders, and eventually reaches the swell of your chest. your fingers brush through the pink of his hair as he does so, and you purse your lips together, basking in the feeling of his warm kisses littering your skin. he leaves you hickeys-- the same shape and size and same locations as he used to even during your days in highschool, and you chuckle to yourself at the thought.
it's not long before he's loosening your skirt and slipping your undergarments down, getting rid of your slick-stained panties, much to his satisfaction. sukuna rubs a thumb over your aroused clit, and you whimper, having missed the touch of a man- his touch specifically.
"fuck... you're so wet.... all for me?" he asks, proceeding to slip two fingers into your weeping hole. you arch your back at the feeling, how his thick digits scissor inside of you and press up against a particularly lovely spot. he watches your every response as he does so, watching how you moan because of his touch, and how you're grabbing at his wrist because it's getting too intense. his cock prods uncomfortably against his pants. you're producing so much slick, and his fingers are getting absolutely drenched.
when he takes them out, you whine a little in disappointment.
"i know, i know. i'll give you something better," he whispers, kissing your cheek.
he unbuckles himself, and lowers his boxers to reveal his aching dick, tip wet with precum, veins bulging out the sides. looks the same as you remember. he pumps it a couple of times with his hand that's still covered with your slick, and he twitches. this isn't a dream, is it?
"oh god, please, i need it-" you plead, your hole feeling eager and empty.
"it's all yours," he mumbles. your begging makes him lightheaded as he lines himself up at your weeping cunt.
"i'm all yours."
when he sinks in deep to the hilt, you cry out at the fullness, as his tip pushes the spot inside you that had been feeling so lonely for years. your hands finds themselves against his back, feeling for his tight muscles.
"shit- 'm gonna lose my mind," sukuna groans as he gives a few shallow thrusts into you, cock so hard and throbbing wildly as your plush walls clamp on him and coats him with your arousal. he grabs one of your hands from his back and interlocks his fingers with yours against the mattress, before leaning down to bring his lips against the side of your neck.
"oh, thank god... thank god, you changed your mind. i love you. i would've been so fucking miserable without you, doll. for the rest of my life," he croons, breath fanning so close to your ear. you shudder at the tone of his voice, tearing up again, mixed with pleasure and relief, and you grab his hand tighter.
you turn your head a little more to the side, making it easier for sukuna to bite and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, as his thrusts increase in speed, nudging your g-spot with every movement.
soon enough, he's bringing his attention back to your tongue, which he caresses with his own, nibbling on your lower lip, maintaining this same perfect pace in his thrusts that brings you closer to your orgasm.
"sukuna- i'm- i'm gonna-" you say breathlessly.
but he merely kisses you again, swallowing up any words you could say or moans you could let out, not minding the gasps and whimpers that you make.
sweat beads on his perfect body, and he makes out with you through your high, groaning back when he feels your walls flutter around him. he's close. even once you've finished cumming, he begins to pound into you quicker, wanting to get to his own orgasm. you claw at his back, crying out in pleasure, as sukuna's tongue lathers your jawline.
he wants to breed you so fucking bad. but no, that'll have to wait. he can't do something to jeopardize your trust in him. he'd rather die than endure another second of being distanced from you again.
right before he's pushed off the edge, sukuna pulls out and desperately jerks himself off above your stomach, panting as his cock throbs in his hand with every spurt that coats you, feeling so hot against your tummy.
you feel a twinge of disappointment, because you also wanted to feel that in your womb...
his dick twitches weakly after being spent, and he breathes heavily, liking the sight of you being covered in his seed for another time. (and many more from now.)
" 'kuna... it's a safe day for me today," you suggest to him without thinking. "i want it inside me..."
the phrase is enough to get heat pooling in his abdomen, and he feels himself get hard all over again.
"you sure, doll? if it's what you want, i'll..." he begins to say, almost flustered by your suggestion. you know you shouldn't say this next line, but it's so easy to get carried away with this man... get caught up in the heat of the moment.
"i want your babies so bad."
you've hit his switch. sukuna growls and puts you into a mating press instantaneously, making you squeak.
"no takebacks," he mutters dangerously, beginning the second round.
the night is long, but heavenly, as soon after he dumps everything he has into your womb, then proceeds to eat you out, making you cry for the third time before sunrise.
when you're awake, it's already heading past midday, and you're relieved to see that yesterday's happenings were not a dream, seeing as the large man is sleeping with an iron hold around your body, as if subconsciously afraid you'd leave him before he woke up again.
he awakens from his slumber to your light, feathery touches on his face, which puts him in a good mood from the moment he opens an eye. it was the scenario he's always dreamed of. waking up next to you, smiling.
there's much to talk about. about what's to come next, future plans, worries, and things they need to do to make amends for all the lost years between each other. but you decide to take things slow.
back to bullet points again bc im lazy to write it properly now
you spend the weekend w him at the hotel and stuff, just playing eating and sleeping, catching up yk
he tells you on his own accord that he wants to let everyone know that he's with you now, but he's worried that it'll bring backlash to you but you tell him you're going to be brave and take it, bc you WANT everyone to know
anyway prepare for turbulence
but everything'll be alright bc hes with you
im thinking about how mopey he'll be when you have to separate from him bc you each have your own homes rn, hes always asking you to come over or if he can come over to your place
and he'll be begging you to move in soon, like old times (he lives in a rich man house now tho)
and also thinking about how its a fresh start, but they also go through old memories and now reminiscing isnt painful anymore bc yall are back together
sukuna also says he's stopped doing romance genres in acting bc he had felt annoyed acting in lovey dovey scenes when his own love life used to be in shambles all the time
and bc hes at a point in his career where he has more choice in choosing between scripts that are offered to him, he's going to continue to decline the ones that have love interests, it doesnt affect him that much anyway
he's just being more considerate of your feelings now... and you promised him that you'll never just disappear like that again when you're upset haha...
sometimes when you still have a few disagreements with him, he keeps subtly checking up on you (hes traumatised, leave him be)
lots of facetiming when he has to go overseas for filming purposes <3
okay, thats all, bye <3
Masterlist
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stonedstr8 · 3 months ago
Text
TOKE 'N STROKE
"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"
He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.
Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.
Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"
He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"
Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."
Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"
"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.
"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.
A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"
After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.
"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.
Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...
...
When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.
When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.
"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.
Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"
After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."
*PHRRRBBBTTT!*
His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.
"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.
"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.
"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.
Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"
"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.
Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."
Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"
*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*
Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.
As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.
"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.
Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.
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madschiavelique · 11 days ago
Text
A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance
summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues
content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh
word count : 5,4k
author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.
masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5
(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)
taglist : @doctorho
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For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.
The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.
When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.
He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.
In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.
The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.
“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”
Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.
When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.
He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.
“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”
Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.
“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”
You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.
“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”
Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”
You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.
“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”
“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”
“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”
You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?
“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”
He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.
The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?
“The evolution of Zaun's power?”
Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”
“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”
You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.
“Any questions?”
Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”
Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.
Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?
“Miss?”
The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.
“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”
He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.
You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.
“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.
“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.
You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”
His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.
“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”
A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.
He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”
“So you think I'm weak ?”
But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.
You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.
“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.
You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.
“Do I disgust you?” he asked.
The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.
If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.
When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.
“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”
He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.
“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.
He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.
“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.
As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.
He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.
Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.
You had to be flawless, you had to.
Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.
The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:
Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.
The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.
What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.
You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.
It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.
There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.
You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:
“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”
With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.
You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”
“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.
“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”
He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.
“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”
You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.
“Why?”
The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.
He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”
You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.
You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”
“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”
You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.
You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”
“Be my guess.”
Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”
He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”
You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.
“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”
He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”
You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.
“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”
He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.
“How do I bother you?”
You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.
“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.
He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.
“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”
You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.
“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”
You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.
“You want an honest answer ?”
He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.
“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”
It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.
He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.
Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.
“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”
“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”
Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.
“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.
“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.
“Why do you have to be like that?”
“Like what?”
You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.
“Better than me.”
He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.
“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”
He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.
“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”
You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.
“Running.”
He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.
“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”
“No it's-”
“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”
“I never-”
“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”
“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”
“With such a statement ? Never.”
“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.
He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.
“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.
“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.
“As if you could reach me.”
“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.
However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.
“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”
“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”
“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”
“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.
“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”
You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.
“None of the books mention Tytos.”
“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”
Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.
“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.
You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”
“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.
You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.
“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.
‘I'm sure that I-”
“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.
He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.
This one, however, was not about to give way.
You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.
“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”
This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 
Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.
It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 
When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.
“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.
All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.
You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.
You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 
You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.
However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 
“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”
Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.
But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.
“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”
A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.
He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.
“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”
But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.
He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.
Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.
“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”
You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.
“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.
But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.
You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.
‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.
He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.
"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.
Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.
“Everyone in my office, now.”
You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.
"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.
You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.
"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.
If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.
"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’
He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.
"... My friend protected me."
Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.
The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 
"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."
Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.
"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.
"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.
"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.
"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"
You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 
"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."
Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.
"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.
"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."
"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.
"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"
Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.
"Good, see you on Monday, then."
The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.
"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"
Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.
"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."
He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.
You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.
Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.
“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.
You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”
"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.
You didn't even turn to him.
"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."
You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.
"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"
He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.
"We're not friends." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."
But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?
You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.
"See you next week."
Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.
Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.
“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.
You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.
You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.
You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.
But you respected him.
Could you be friends with him?
The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.
You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.
Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.
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srslyblvck · 4 months ago
Text
pretty boy, sirius black
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pairing: sirius black x fem!reader
synopsis: you called sirius 'pretty boy' and now, he never stops following you.
genre: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 0.6k
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU WERE LYING UNDER a tree by the Black Lake, trying to finish some last-minute homework. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, providing a soothing background noise as you concentrated on your essay. Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you, and before you could even look up, you heard that familiar voice.
"Hey there, gorgeous," Sirius Black drawled, plopping down beside you with his usual confidence.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. "Sirius, shouldn't you be somewhere causing trouble with James?"
"Ah, but where's the fun in that when I can be here, distracting you?" He winked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
You tried to focus on your parchment, but Sirius's constant chatter and flirty remarks made it nearly impossible. He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "You know, you're much too beautiful to be wasting your time on schoolwork."
You turned to him, intending to give him a witty retort. Instead, you sighed and looked up at him. "Sirius, don't you ever get tired of flirting?"
"Not when it's with you," he said, grinning. "But why, is it working?"
You shook your head, laughing softly. "You're insufferable."
He leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the sky. "Come on, there must be something you like about me."
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Well, you're easy on the eyes."
Sirius's confident smirk faltered for a moment. "Oh? Do go on."
You laughed, trying to brush it off. "Don't let it get to your head."
He moved closer, his tone more earnest. "No, really. What else?"
You hesitated, then muttered, "Maybe you're a bit of a...pretty boy."
Sirius's eyes widened, and he stared at you, momentarily speechless. His usual swagger was replaced with a look of genuine surprise.
You immediately regretted it, your cheeks flushing. "I-I didn't mean—"
"No," he interrupted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Say it again."
You blinked, taken aback. "What?"
"Call me that again," he repeated, his eyes still locked onto yours.
You shook your head, embarrassed. "No way, Sirius. Forget I said anything."
He moved closer, his expression serious. "Please."
"No," you said firmly, gathering your things and standing up. "I'm not going to call you that."
Sirius stood up too, a determined look on his face. "Then I'll just have to make you."
True to his word, Sirius became your shadow. He followed you to the library, sat next to you during meals, and even walked you to your classes. His constant presence was both endearing and infuriating. He'd poke your sides, and ruffle your hair, just to get a reaction out of you.
One day, as you were heading to Potions, he was right beside you, humming a tune. You sighed, exasperated. "Sirius, don't you have something better to do?"
"Nope," he said cheerfully. "Being with you is my top priority now."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile creeping onto your face. "You're impossible."
"And you're beautiful," he shot back without missing a beat.
Despite his antics, you found yourself growing fond of his company. His relentless flirting and playful nature made your days brighter. And every time he looked at you with those big doe eyes, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest.
One afternoon, as you sat by the Black Lake again, Sirius sat down beside you, quieter than usual. He looked at you, his eyes soft. "Why won't you call me that again?"
You sighed, meeting his gaze. "Because it makes you look... different. Not the confident, cocky Sirius everyone knows. It makes you look vulnerable."
He smiled softly. "Maybe I like being vulnerable with you."
Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Well, I still won't say it."
He laughed, a warm, genuine sound. "Then I guess I'll just have to keep following you around until you do."
And as frustrating as it was, a part of you didn't mind at all.
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tetragonia · 12 days ago
Text
Let It Roll
JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
JJ Maybank would give anything, but he won't give up on you. He'd say anything, but not good bye.
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warning: uh, angst? they're fighting.
note: I took the title and the summary from Train's song, Let It Roll and Words. would be nice if you take a listen!
words: 1.5k
It had started weeks ago, small things piling up like the sand that collects on a boat until it makes everything feel heavier. JJ had been distant, disappearing without a word and dodging questions when he came back. You’d catch him staring off into the distance, his jaw set, shoulders tense, but whenever you’d ask what was going on, he’d just brush it off with a laugh or say something evasive.
At first, you tried to be understanding. JJ wasn’t the kind of person to open up easily, and you knew he had a lot on his shoulders—too much, really, for someone so young. But as days passed and he kept pulling further away, the frustration grew.
You’d text him, and hours would pass before he’d reply with something vague. You’d make plans, and he’d show up late or sometimes not at all, leaving you with the sense that he was slipping through your fingers, like sand you couldn’t hold onto.
Tonight was supposed to be different. He’d promised to meet you by the docks after sundown, a plan he’d made himself. You were excited, even hopeful, thinking this would be the night he’d finally open up about whatever was weighing on him. But as the sun sank and the stars filled the sky, there was still no sign of JJ. An hour passed, and then another, until you were left alone, hurt gnawing at you as the breeze grew cold.
When he finally showed up, his face flushed and eyes stormy, he mumbled an apology. It was the same routine—vague promises that didn’t really ease the sting of waiting alone. You’d reached your limit, and suddenly, everything you’d been holding back came spilling out.
“You’re here now, but for how long, JJ?” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “I’ve been waiting for you to let me in, to talk to me instead of shutting me out, but you keep disappearing. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“You’re always doing this, JJ,” you continued, your voice wavering as you tried to keep steady. “Pushing everyone away, saying it’s no big deal, that nothing gets to you—but it does. And I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you pull further and further away?”
JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly taken aback. “Look, I’m doing my best here, okay? It’s not like you understand this life, this… mess.”
“Then make me understand,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s going on. I want to help you, but I can’t if you keep pushing me away.”
He looked at you, his jaw clenched tight, and shook his head.
“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice rough. “You don’t get it. I’m not good at this—at… needing someone. I don’t know how to just talk it out, alright?”
You took a shaky breath, fighting the ache that had settled in your chest. “I don’t need you to be perfect, JJ. I just need you to be here. With me.”
He looked down, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of everything was pressing down on him all at once. For a moment, he didn’t respond, and the silence between you grew heavy, filled with every unspoken word and missed moment.
"No, I... I can sort this alone."
"There you go again!" you were frustated.
He looked at you, his blue eyes clouded, jaw clenched. “I’m trying, alright? I don’t know how to—how to do this stuff like you do. You know me. I mess up, I get it. But you act like I’m not here, like you’re waiting for me to say it’s over so you don’t have to.”
The accusation stung, but maybe it was true. Maybe you had been waiting for him to let you go.
“I don’t know how to keep this going if it’s always going to feel like this, JJ. I don’t know if you even want me here. I can’t be the only one fighting for this.”
“I don’t want you to fight for it alone!” his voice broke as he took a step forward. “You think I don’t want you here? That I don’t think about you every second of every day? I’d give anything to fix this—anything, alright? Just not… just not this.”
“Not what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Not goodbye,” he said, his voice softer now, but his tone stubborn, like he was digging his heels into the ground and refusing to budge. “I can’t say it. I won’t.”
Your heart felt like it was being pulled in two directions. You wanted to let go of the anger, but you couldn’t ignore the hurt.
“JJ, sometimes it’s not enough just to want something. We need… more. I need you to talk to me, to tell me what’s going on inside instead of just running off when things get hard.”
“I don’t run,” he shot back, his gaze steady and filled with something fierce. “I stay because of you. Because I don’t want to let you go. I know I’m not great at the talking part, but I’m here, aren’t I? I’m trying to tell you that I’m not giving up, even if you think I should.”
Your eyes stung, and you blinked back tears, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. You wanted so badly to believe him, to trust that he wouldn’t push you away again, but it was hard. You’d been here before—on the edge of leaving, only to be pulled back in by the sheer force of your feelings for him.
He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“I’ll say anything you need me to say, do whatever it takes to make this right,” he murmured, his voice softer now, pleading. “But I won’t say goodbye. Not to you.”
There was a desperation in his words, a crack in the armor he always wore. JJ was staring at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to the ground, his face tense and unguarded. It was rare for him to let you see him like this—raw, unfiltered, his defenses dropped.
Slowly, you reached out, your hand finding his, your fingers intertwining with his as you tried to breathe through the ache in your chest. You didn’t have the strength to walk away from him, not when he was looking at you with that fierce determination, like he’d rather burn than let you slip away.
“I don’t want to say goodbye, either,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
For a moment, the silence wrapped around you both. He brought your hand to his chest, letting you feel the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingers.
“Then don’t,” he said softly. “We can figure this out, I promise. I just… I need you to believe in me. In us.”
The air was heavy, filled with unspoken promises, but as you looked at him, really looked at him, you could see it: the way his gaze softened, the way he was holding on to you like you were his lifeline.
Slowly, you nodded, squeezing his hand. You didn’t have the answers, and maybe neither did he. But for now, you were both here, grounded by the weight of everything you’d fought through to get to this moment. And it was enough.
As you stood there together, the tension between you faded into something warmer, something hopeful. Maybe things weren’t perfect, but you knew he was right — you weren’t ready to say goodbye, either. Not tonight. Not yet.
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