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#lover album finished
fckmeupflorida · 5 months
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midnights the unfortunate response to lover's question mark that you are
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hikarinokusari · 1 year
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I think I'm going to need to refrain from putting Pantera cover of Hurdy Gurdy for fight music because :
1 - it bangs too much. 2 - OFC IT'S PANTERA. 66% of my table will surely recognize it. 3 - I'll just stop the fight and listen to it. 4 - It'd be an excuse to "BUT WHAT IF I PUT LUCA TURILLI'S MUSIC" moment I always have which leads to step 1 and step 3.
#hnk ramblings#choosing a music is my nightmare#i'm fucking too picky#i want to listen to final fantasy but i can't otherwise i'll just brainfreeze and listen to final fantasy adieu campaign.#but consider. Luca's turilli music for boss are a treasure#I just resist the urge to put Echoes of Tragedy from Rhapsody of Fire's album in Argynvostholt bc STEP 3 is awful for a music lover.#i fell into a pittrap where I've discovered a new artist for hurdy gurdy and i'm just vibing instead of you know prep.#NO BUT LISTEN THE WOMEN SINGING THEN THE CONTRECHANT FIGHTING THE CHOIR AND THEN THE ALLTOGETHER REPRISE#THEN THE KEYCHANGE THE DESPAIR COMES BACK AND BAM CHOIR AGAIN AND THE SINGER FINDS THE STRENGHTH AGAIN#LOOK I JUST CAN'T I NEED LUCA TURILLI'S INSTRUMENTAL.#AND THEN THE SPEAKING PART OF THE BEGINNING AGAIN WITH THE OMINOUS PIANO WITH RAW ENERGY PLEASE THIS WOULD BE PERFECT FOR THE FIGHT#And this my friend is why I don't put music I know in campaign#now vibing to luca turilli's again. I will never prep the music and the session is in like less than 2 hours and I still need to walk the#dog#THE CHOIR STARTS AGAIN GODDAMN THAT PART WITH THE SINGING AND AGAIN KEYCHANGE AND VIBE CHANGE BUT DIFFERENTLY SLIGHT CHANGES AND THE REPRIS#I JUST CAN'T#THE GLORY#OH FFS I'LL JUST LISTEN TO IT IF THEY FIGHT THE BOSS AND PUT THEM ANOTHER MUSIC#Or I just need the instrumental which is a shame cause I don't have it ALSO THERE IS ORGAN AT SOME POINT AFTER YOU THINK IT'S FINISHED WITH#A FUCKING TOCCATA#AND THIS MY FRIEND IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE MUSIC AND COMPOSITION WISE#^ I'm a music enjoyer.#and ominous piano is back for part 2 after the toccata just to tease and the speaking threatening choir in latin with raw dormant fury just#this is grand masterpiece.#I'll die on this hill but luca turilli's music is such underrated#u want to write music? this is how you write music. Listen to ' Of michael the Archangerl and Lucifer's fall' whole 20 minutes.#It's a gem.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️
I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀
Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭
MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O
Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.
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Ghost
He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️
Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.
He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.
And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.
He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.
And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.
You know, to really study the picture.
Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.
But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.
A makeshift lover.
If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.
There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.
He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.
So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3
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König
His heart can’t take this kind of torment.
He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.
He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.
Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.
Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.
He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).
Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.
He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.
It’s the only way he can finish.
“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”
And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.
And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.
Not that they mind all too much.
They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.
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Soap
Will tease you back.
Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’
Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.
No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.
His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.
Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.
Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.
He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.
Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.
Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.
But Johnny can’t help it.
He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.
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Valeria
If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.
The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.
You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.
What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.
Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.
She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’
All day, all she can see is that image.
Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.
Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.
You will not know rest until she’s done with you.
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Price
“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.
“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”
Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.
This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.
The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.
And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.
‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.
‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’
He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.
‘And ravage you.’
And you know he means it, too.
Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.
And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.
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Horangi
Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.
I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.
Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.
When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.
If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.
“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.
“What have you done to me–”
These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.
And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.
He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.
And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.
“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.
“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.
“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”
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Alejandro
Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.
Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.
‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.
And a sinister: ‘But you will’.
If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.
To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.
Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.
His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.
And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.
He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.
“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.
You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.
He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.
“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”
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Rodolfo
This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.
But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.
You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.
Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.
More of a whimperer when he’s not.
At times like these, you get both.
“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”
His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.
And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.
“I won’t let you get away with this.”
The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.
And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.
“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.
“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”
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Graves
This smug idiot.
Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.
Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.
Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.
Why ?
Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.
Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’
Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.
He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.
Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.
The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.
But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.
And he gets mean when he’s like that.
I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.
Does his best to take care of you, though.
If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.
Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.
But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.
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Gaz
Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.
He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.
Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.
Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.
But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.
Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.
It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.
More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.
Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’
And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’
Will literally send him over the edge.
The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.
And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.
Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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csainzoperator · 5 months
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baby : CL16 ☆
summary: y/n horner has dropped a new single. its a sexy and fun song. but y/n had broken up 4 years ago, and since then there was one superhit album with a sad and shady vibe. new year, new y/n? or new man? let's find out.
(charles leclerc × singer!reader)
trigger warnings: sexual intendos, typos (tried my best to not make any)
face claim: barbara palvin
read more under the cut!
y/nusername has posted!
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hi, lovers. i know its been quite a while since you've heard from me but hey! i'm back and my single "baby" is dropping on friday, 8/12/23. stay tuned for more updates. love you all always, i thank each one of you as i wouldn't be here if it weren't for you guys 💋
liked by taylorswift, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 928,712,821 others
christianhorner proud of you, darling ❤️
- gerihalliwellhorner WE are proud of you (the spice girl inside me is squeaking)
landonorris GO BESTIE
- y/nusername ILY DUMBASS
carlossainz55 all the drivers can't wait for this! (we all are disgusted on the inside)
- y/nusername 🤭🤭
- estiebestieee GIRL WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
- y/nloverrr stop....DOES THAT MEAN THE DRIVERS HAVE HEARD THE SONG ALREADY
- pierregasly 🤐
y/nfann YOU LOOK SO PRETTY
paddockclubb y'all wondering if the drivers have heard the song when i'm out here questioning reality cos CHARLES LECLERC HAS LIKED THIS POST.
it was the end of season lunch and you were kind of nervous as you would finally be telling your parents about charles and you. your friends were thrilled but you just didn't know how your father would react.
the heavenly creatures and godly people had given you a blessing. BECAUSE NO WAY IN HELL YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT IT ALL ALONG?
"you aren't letting him in on any red bull secrets now, are you?" your father questioned you. and you replied right back, with mock seriousness. "you mean have i told him how max cuddles his cats and how checo never stops talking about mexican food? yes dad i've kept that a secret." your boyfriend lets out a chuckle as you finish your sentence, squeezing your thigh below the table.
"aww maxie you're a softie at heart" lando teases him as max glares at you playfully. the brunch was a success and you just couldn't wait to get back to the hotel with charles because, oh dear lord. he looked absolutely ravishing. divine. sublime even. and he knew what was on your mind, the way his hands kept brushing yours, his soft kisses when no one was looking. you felt it all.
y/nusername has posted!
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fancy hotel but this is how we showed up 🤞🏼 liked by christianhorner, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 99,827 others.
landonorris oooh who's that hot man
- y/nusername carlossainz55 come get your child
- carlossainz55 my apologies
- carlaaaando EXACTLY WHO IS THAT MAN
charles_leclerc 🌟
y/nusername has liked this comment
- f1wags WTF ARE Y'ALL SEEING THIS.
- estiebestiee if y/n and charles are a thing. I'M NOT READY FOR THIS 🖐🏼
y/nloverr OK BUT THE UPGRADE THO. from that trash guy 4 years ago to charles mfkin leclerc 🙏🏼
it was the big day. your single was about to drop today and your boyfriend was lying down on your lap, telling you how he would LOVE to tell the world that the song was about him. you agreed, it was about him. he slowly got up and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands slip under your shirt.
"aren't we getting cheeky now, mr leclerc?" you teased. "oh we are just getting started, baby" he mumbles as he kisses down your neck. and just like that, he made your big day much more special by his, let's say, needy touches.
y/nusername has posted!
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"baby" out now on all platforms! enjoy streaming. sending kisses 💋 liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and 288,718,123 others.
y/nfannn "baby, baby, do i taste like candy, sugarcoated he says i'm the most sweet" UM GUYS????? I'M NOT OK 🖐🏼
landonorris great song ig 🙄
- y/nusername oh cmon we all know you love it
lewishamilton great job, sis. got a sick beat 🖤
y/nusername has liked this comment
f1wags GUYS. I'M 100% SURE THAT'S CHARLES' BACK.
- carlandooo RAH STOP I'M WEAK IN MY KNEES RN
y/nloverrr "i'm a handful but, that's what hands are for. pin me to the floor, treat it like its yours" SCREAMING YELLING KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR GN. she ate that up 🙏🏼
charles_leclerc 🤭
charles_leclerc has posted!
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"baby" is ab me. y'all can cry now 🤭 liked by y/nusername, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 287,112,123 others.
y/nusername i love you, baby.
- charles_leclerc NAH. i love you more.
- y/nusername shut up, i will kill every person who says against me, i love you more.
- charles_leclerc wow look at you making me all scared AND getting me horny at the same time.
landonorris UM. I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT.
pierregasly THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP.
maxverstappen1 why y'all acting like we didn't know since ages. anyways. *pretends to be shook* CONGRATS GUYS!
y/nleclercfan PARENTS 🤞🏼
lechairrr y/n basically told us how good charles is in bed by her song 😭
f1wags HAH. I KNEW IT. I SAW IT COMING BUT I'M STILL SO SHOOK RN?????
scuderiaferrari red looks good on you guys ❤️
the end ♡
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cosmichoothoot · 2 years
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Making some Midnights inspired moodboards wile I make doll hair, send me "Midnights" if you want one of your muse/our muses from any of Taylor's eras wile I do <3
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babygirlracing · 2 years
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Midnights is so ass
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midnightsslut · 3 days
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religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.
taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.
the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.
when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.
side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?
the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.
the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.
ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.
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armysantiny · 1 month
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-[chan; soft bf headcanon
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P: Chan x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, headcanon | Inc: graphic designer!reader, getting together, friends to lovers, the rest of skz being (lovingly) fed up, date nights, late night walks | Wc: 503 | W: none iirc | R: G
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My favourite single father of seven/j
Meeting Chan was almost fate, honestly
You’re a graphic designer and happen to love designing album covers
Stray Kids were finishing up an album and needed a graphic designer to help create the album covers
Lo and behold~
You and Chan meet!
Bonding during meeting after meeting while the creative process goes about working its magic
The bonding sessions turn into dropping by each other’s workspace
By which I mean you  visiting Chan’s studio pretty much every time you have a lunch break and bringing a snack with you
Which he greatly appreciates <3
Because he never leaves that room/j
The speed at which you two become best friends is impeccable
Very much a duo – especially the kind that are always seen hanging out together
The feelings start not too long after too
There is one problem though... you’re both oblivious
Painfully oblivious
Somehow you both can’t see that the other is head over heels, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of skz to start taking matters into their own hands
They love you, really, but the running around in circles is going to drive them a little mad
Just a little :D
They keep trying to bash hints over your heads
Which is ironic because the confession happens so quickly
Catches everyone off guard fr
The two of you are hanging out late and it gets blurted out
Cue quick discussion over what you want in a relationship and boom—
Y’all are a couple now! Everyone liked that
Chan being your boyfriend comes with seven other people because none of these men know what the meaning of the phrase personal space is
Baby I don’t make the rules here, this is just the truth
You take it in stride though, which Chan appreciates
Oh yeah, and this man is a hugger
A certified cuddler I’m telling you
I’m convinced he needs his arms around you for thirty minutes a day, every day, at least
Will have you sit in his lap while he works so he can get his daily y/n cuddles
Try to move and watch him whine I swear—
Do you not want his affection anymore??/j
Lmao but despite how busy the both of you are, date nights are wonderful
He plans dinner reservations on days you’re both free and refuses to listen to anyone asking him to work
Date nights are for the two of you and the two of you only <33
Walks hand-in-hand with you after dinner and you stop by a few stalls
If you happen to pass by an arcade, he’s gonna win you a plushie from the claw machine
Sure he spends a little too much on it, but it’s all good fun
Especially worth it to see your face when he does win a plushie
And sure, your friends are more than happy that you’re dating Chan
But they are a little jealous
Because who doesn’t want a relationship like yours
You lucky darling, you~
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When the Levee Breaks
pairing: Remus Lupin x reader
tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader
NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption
random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol
word count: 6.4k
hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶
You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you. 
At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone. 
“Antsy?” 
“No.” 
He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.
“Whatever you say, jitterbug.” 
Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work. 
“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high. 
“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you. 
“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to. 
“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago. 
He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”
Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue. 
A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”
“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over. 
You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.” 
He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.
“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.
You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 
He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest. 
“Oh, Rem. You should know…”
“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down. 
“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek. 
“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?” 
“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”
He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer. 
“Did I really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you. 
“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor. 
“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.
“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door. 
“Yeah,” you exhale. 
“I don’t remember that happening.”
“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.” 
He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.” 
Your cheeks warm and so does your heart. 
You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly. 
“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”
“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.  
“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.” 
You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”
Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction. 
“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.
“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it. 
He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there. 
He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.
“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully. 
“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.” 
You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 
“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”
You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.
“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.
“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.” 
He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 
“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.
“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued. 
“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you. 
1971: the year you met. 
He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you. 
“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks. 
“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. 
It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.
“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.
“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.” 
“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.
“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable. 
“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.
“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”
“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.
“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.
Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.
“Ready, sunshine?”
“Mhhm.”
“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips. 
You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.  
You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better. 
“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin. 
Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.
“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy. 
“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible. 
You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are. 
“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”
“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.
“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.
“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes. 
“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!” 
You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it. 
“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows. 
“C’mere,” you whisper to him.
“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again. 
“Down here!” you whisper-yell. 
You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa. 
Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.
You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it. 
“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.” 
He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily. 
“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair. 
You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours. 
A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful. 
So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it. 
“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.
“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all. 
“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so. 
“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.” 
Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him. 
Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it. 
“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand. 
“Why would I be?”
“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…” 
His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be. 
Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.” 
You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek. 
“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.” 
Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back. 
“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended.  Remus just hums in response. 
The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself. 
So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary. 
Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand. 
You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.
You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills. 
“Don’t stop,” he whispers. 
“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other. 
“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret. 
He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch. 
His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”
“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.
“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own. 
“Do you?” 
“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”
“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it. 
“About my crush.” 
“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”
“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back. 
Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?” 
“Of course I did.” 
“What happened?” he echoes. 
“Nothing,” you confess. 
His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once. 
“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.” 
You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you. 
Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up. 
You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.
You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear. 
Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues. 
After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path. 
When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.
“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top. 
You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.
He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it. 
As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster. 
“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit. 
His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.
He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender. 
At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation. 
Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down. 
Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you. 
Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe. 
“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.
“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.
He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.
Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them. 
You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off. 
“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.
When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.
Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you. 
He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it. 
“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.
“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.” 
“Other times?” 
“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”
“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”
“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you. 
“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.” 
“I thought you were enjoying it.” 
“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.
It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random. 
“Moony?”
“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.
“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”
He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick. 
“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”
“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.” 
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am not,” you giggle.
“Are,” he teases.
“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.
“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid. 
His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.
Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes. 
With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours. 
You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state. 
It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him. 
You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?” 
“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.
“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face. 
“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…” 
“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”
“Anything,” you smile. 
“I love you.” 
You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe. 
“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”
“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”
“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.” 
He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there. 
When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.
You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed. 
“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.” 
“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh. 
“Yeah.”
“What were you thinking about?” 
“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”
“Yes,” you moan. 
“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.
“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”
“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full. 
Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation. 
He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours. 
“Ready, my sunshine?” 
“Mmhhmm.”
Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.
You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus. 
When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours. 
The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.
You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there. 
You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry… 
You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him. 
493 notes · View notes
theonion · 10 months
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MINNEAPOLIS—Addressing the online trolling of her former partners ahead of the release of her next rerecorded album, Speak Now, Taylor Swift reportedly took a moment Saturday night during a performance of her Eras tour to ask her fans not to attack her exes unless they can fully commit to finishing the job. “As we lead up to this album coming out, I would like to request that all of you either put up or shut up and finally see your threats against my former lovers through to the end,” said Swift, explaining that she doesn’t need fans to defend her against anything that happened in her past relationships unless there’s a dead body on her porch when it’s all said and done.
Full story.
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jenscx · 9 months
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ATTENTION — kim minji smau
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being the music bank mc has its pros. being able to meet your bias, interacting with other idols… too bad your partner is the only idol you hate; kim minji.
STATUS LOADING… finished!
TAGS — fluff, angst, idol!minji x idol!reader, enemies to lovers, secret pining, mubank partners, cursing
UPDATES — wednesdays and fridays
! IMPORTANT ! this fic is not an accurate portrayal of the kpop idols mentioned. everything stated is fiction.
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CHARACTERS… IVE lost my mind | hyein antis
00. prologue
01. confrontation
02. annoyingly pretty
03. weverse live
04. dating rumours
05. shut up
06. nightlife
07. ok translator
08. STOP BEING GAY
09. eye contact
10. kys loser
11. fancams
12. feeling: devious
13. yn’s downfall
14. hiatus
15. fav album?
16. cheer up baby
17. i wish you would
18. YNJI REUNITED!
19. moment of weakness
20. BALLS IN YO MOUTH
21. #featured
22. yo chat
23. downbad spiral
24. liam pain
25. honesty
26. god forbid
27. wsg dawg
28. unnie
29. jinnie
30. alpha side (half-written)
31. feral over you
32. insane rizz
33. forrealz
34. situationship OVER.
35. let’s go!
36. a question (half-written)
37. three months curse
38. ynji moments
39. ynji moments pt.2
BONUS. yn’s playlist
40. favourite idol
41. holy shit
42. just friends
43. yujin was right
BONUS. playlist #2
44. first wlw heartbreak
45. the 1
46. we got this
47. snooze by sza
48. triple texted
49. d/milf hunter
50. yes or yes?
51. good morning
52. hanni the therapist
53. happy birthday
54. letting go (half-written)
55. movie night
56. wonyoung’s talk (half-written)
57. sheldon the turtle
58. ure trippin
59. coquette core
60. attention (half-written)
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TAGS ! @ky-yk @urmom2314 @nasyu-kookies @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @be0mluver @lesleepyyy @eunhhh @edamboon @sewiouslyz @haerinfangs @impossiblesharkcashrebel @mightymyo @dexthzone @pandafuriosa60 @haew0nz @dmndtears @awkwardtoafault @hyehae @sserajeans @haerinkisser @chaerybae @yukianism @urwyf3 @xxsplatashaxx @kimsgayness @manooffline @yerisdumbass @jeindall777 @jiwoneiric @justme-idle @imthisclosetokms (closed)
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verstappen-cult · 4 months
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ATTENDING THE ERAS TOUR WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID
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★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)
lando suggests you wear matching outfits because he’s seen how everyone dress up so cool to go to the concert and he wants you both to experience what it means going to the eras tour, from start to finish. he blares all taylor’s albums while you get ready and in the car ride to the stadium, he knows probably half of the lyrics but his excitement is so cute you don’t tell him how he’s singing pretty like a devil instead of grinning like a devil.
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★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)
charles doesn’t consider himself as a huge swiftie, of course he knows a few of taylor’s songs but that’s it. however, when you asked him if he’d be your date for the concert, his high rate went up to the roof. seeing the taylor swift live? for the first time ever? and at the eras tour? he tried very hard not to show how happy and excited that made him feel and he was… not too successful. he sings with you during the concert, and happily listens to you talk about your favorite part while you drive back home.
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★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)
when oscar bought you the tickets, he was expecting you to go with one of your friends, not to hug him and kiss him and practically scream how excited you were to attend the concert with him. oscar knows nothing about taylor swift, he’s heard a few songs because who hasn’t? so a few days before the big day you sit him in front of the tv, a power point that reads ‘all you need to know about taylor swift’ on the screen. if by the end of the presentation he goes to spotify to listen to reputation, that’s his problem. he spends the entire concert looking at you, he knows taylor is a big deal to a lot of people but he couldn’t care less when he has you smiling and shouting and looking so happy by his side.
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★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)
you and max started dating thanks to a taylor swift song, so when he learnt about the eras tour he didn’t hesitate, not for a second, and bought the tickets. it was meant to be a surprise for your birthday but he couldn’t keep the secret and told you the same night. he’s not good at keeping secrets, okay. what’s he’s also not very good at: arts and crafts, so he simply sat down on the couch, pressed play to miss americana and watched you make some friendship bracelets. his favorite was the one you made for yourself with his racing number on it. he spent such a good time at the concert, and got to trade a bunch of friendship bracelets too.
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★ — ALEX ALBON (23)
alex is a swiftie thanks to you. one day he asked you who she was, the next one he was being introduced to the whole taylor swift lore. it was only fair that he stayed up all night trying to buy tickets to the eras tour with you. alex spent the weeks leading up to the concert listening to you talk about how excited you were. and if he’s honest, he was excited too. taylor is a big part of your life together and knowing that you two share it and can enjoy it together makes him feel pretty lucky.
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★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)
who was more excited to go to the eras tour… you or daniel? hard to say, really. he cries during all too well, even though he doesn’t admit it, he has something in his eyes right at that moment; believe him. daniel gets a lot of compliments for his outfit and goes viral, because what is a formula one driver doing at the eras tour wearing a sparkly suit? daniel doesn’t care about anything but to enjoy with you and kiss you when she sings lover. and love story. and enchanted.
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★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)
mick is like a puppy. if you tell him something, he’ll do it right away. he can’t say no to you, not when you have those big and pretty eyes looking at him with that look that has his heart melting. mick is very nervous the day of the concert but when you ask him what’s wrong he just tells you he’s excited. you don’t ask again because next thing you know taylor’s on stage and the whole stadium is going crazy. when taylor sings ‘he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring’ everyone around you goes crazy, and when you look to the left there he is, your boyfriend, kneeling on the ground with his pretty smile and a ring.
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© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which a shameless ex-lover makes your bad day worse and jungkook can’t help but to go wherever you are.
> fluff, dashes of angst / wc: 4k
> warnings: mention of blood bc oc gets scratched :( + is ready to throw hands at jk’s ex and then cries lol, taehyung cameo and mentions of yeontan :P + a line of jk reminds me of the orpheus drabble <3
note: last one for a while as i take a rest from writing and process jimin’s album <3 reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! it goes a long way :]
“jungkook, you’ve been in there for an hour! answer your phone!”
you click your tongue in annoyance, bouncing your thighs up and down as you fiddle with the controller and collect your kills with reckless tenacity. the ringing of the third phone call he’s receiving in the past ten minutes is overpowering the volume of the game, which you turned all the way down just enough so that you can faintly yet clearly hear it. well, right now, you can’t anymore. again.
“baby, you’re home?!” jungkook yells in surprise, and you spare him a glance.
half of his naked torso is peeking out of the bathroom door, and he looks like a maltese puppy who heedlessly jumped into a swimming pool, hair still dripping wet and pure excitement painted all over his face.
“who’s calling anyway? you can answer it for me!“
“can’t. i’m playing call of duty.”
“you’re what?!” he exclaims, but his voice enters your ear then escapes from the other as you remain deeply absorbed in the game. he disappears for a minute before emerging from the bathroom, half-naked with a striped white and khaki towel wrapped around his waist down to his knees.
you’re situated on the floor with your back leaning on the couch. he stands beside you with his hands on his waist, watching the television screen in sheer curiosity, which then morphs into astonishment. “wow, you’re actually playing it… i haven’t seen you touch your controller in months. but why are you sudden- yah! what is this? how are you doing so good?!”
the phone lying on the center table lights up once more. the incessant noise is seriously getting into your nerves and you’ve had enough of it, gritting your teeth as you snap. “i’m begging you. answer it. or i might break something.”
the irritation embedded in your voice makes him jut out his bottom lip sadly. more than that, your facial expression and body language evidently scream that you’re feeling on edge. you didn’t even bother to let him know that you’ve come home, and he’s uncertain if you nearly muted the volume because you don’t want to listen to the ear-shattering sounds of ammunition being fired or you don’t want him to hear them.
he picks up the phone per your request, eyebrows knitting in confusion when he fails to recognize the number flashing on the screen.
“it’s an unregistered number. i don’t know who- oopsie-” he scrunches his nose, chuckling because he accidentally ended the call when he muted the device. it vibrates with a new message from the same person not too long after.
“it’s my ex?” he blinks with a blank expression on his face. he intently reads the content of the text, tugging at the silver ring piercing the corner of his lower lip. “uhhh- she’s… asking me to put in a good word for her… because she applied to be an in-house choreographer at- at the company.”
on the other hand, you feel like a bucket of ice water was dunked over your head at the mention of your boyfriend’s ex-lover. your vigorous focus on the game wavers, but luckily, you’re already so close to finishing, and you still maintain half a mind to end the game in your own terms. the word ‘victory’ flashes on the giant screen, and you almost break down into tears because god knows you needed a fucking win today.
jungkook gasps in amazement, whipping out the camera app to capture a photo of your achievement. “did you just fucking win solo versus squads?”
the thing is… you’re not the biggest fan of these games. sure, you play occasionally (only using his accounts because you like how he already has most items unlocked and you can freely play around… you like to pretend that you’ve never been scolded for making him rank down before), but you prefer the relaxing types with adorable and colorful graphics. and just like he said, you haven’t touched your controller in months, which must be the reason why he’s pleasantly surprised. you won’t be shocked if you get bombarded by his gamer friends to play with them tomorrow, by the looks of your boyfriend proudly typing away at his keyboard while smiling from ear-to-ear.
“don’t move on too fast.” you breathe out a deep sigh before standing on your feet. “which ex? that bitch you broke up with because she kept on picking stupid fights with your friends? and now she wants to work with them?”
the combination of your harsh intonation and the recollection of dreadful memories make him wince. that relationship didn’t end on good terms, so this is confusing to him as well. it was a person he wholeheartedly liked, but they barely lasted six months because the way she treated those who are near and dear to him, unkind and discorteous, eventually turned him off and made him nothing but angry. she tried to convince him that she could change, but it was his decision that could no longer be changed.
does it even matter? he didn’t dwell on it too long, anyway. because then, he met you.
“yes,” he shortly answers, flipping his phone so the screen is facing you.
your brain chooses to not register any of the other characters used in the text except for those at the end: the flirty ‘Thanks babe! I miss u so much. See u around soon. Let’s catch up’ and winking emoji blowing a red heart next to it. you release yet another sigh, this time shaky and frustrated, and you gently move his hand aside to get the phone out of your sight. a headache is beginning to blossom at your temples, and you truly do not have the energy to deal with this bullshit right now.
“you must know how i feel about this, right?”
“i’m not sure-”
“like if she calls you ‘babe’ infront of my face i won’t hold back and i will claw her eyes ou-“
“okay, okay, baby, i got it!” he chuckles, taking a hold of your arms to pull you closer to him. he plants a sweet kiss to your lips, hoping that would aid in putting your mind at ease. “i won’t let her call me that again, hmm? or do anything that will make either of us uncomfortable for that matter.”
“good. i trust you. do whatever you want.” you speak softly, giving his rosy cheek light pats. he always looks a dash more attractive when fresh from the shower, so entrancingly hypnotic when bare-faced that it makes you want to fall on your knees and worship the stardust making up his existence.
unfortunately, your mind is too clouded and restless and you can’t stay to admire him some more. you withdraw from his hold, the cold drops of water from his hair sliding down to your forearm and you wipe them away on his towel.
“i’m going out for a bit. i need to buy something at the convenience store.”
you don’t wait for him to answer. you head straight to the bedroom to collect your essentials.
“wait for me. i’ll go with you!”
you return wearing a long purple jacket over your blue t-shirt and white sweatpants, also carrying your phone, wallet and pepper spray.
“i’ll be fine alone. i got this.” you wave the small bottle infront of him before stuffing it in the pocket of your sweatpants.
the front door rings as it opens and shuts, and jungkook despises the weight sitting on top of his chest— heavier and heavier with your absence. he still wanted to insist on tagging along, worried because it’s already late at night, but he gave up when he sensed that you really need to be left alone.
“shit, let me take care of this first.” he tilts his head to the side, and then the other, cracking his neck before he scrolls through his contact list to make an important call.
the soles of your sneakers scratch the rough asphalt as you lazily drag yourself to the convenience store. you’re having one of those kind of bad days- you woke up this morning mad at the world for a reason you couldn’t decipher, and it only got worse after you left the house for work. you brushed against someone while chasing the bus and the zipper of their bag scratched your arm that it bled uncontrollably. the nearest restaurant to your workplace was closed and you had to walk an extra kilometer. you didn’t have the time to text jungkook and complain about the shitty day you’ve been having. and you had to suffer the bus ride home beside an old teacher from high school who never ran out of uninteresting stories to tell.
oh! and how can you not mention that you were subjected to remembering that your boyfriend fell in love with other people before he knew you? the mere mental image of jungkook being emotionally and physically intimate with somebody else is a strong punch in the gut that makes you want to run in a corner and hurl.
and to rub salt on the wound, his ex-girlfriend, who is more than comfortable to reach out to him with an old term of endearment, wants to work at close proximity with him after saying ‘i miss you so much’… was the ‘so much’ necessary? was saying ‘i miss you’ necessary at all? you don’t know her intentions or if she even has any, and you don’t care if they’re good or bad. you simply cannot bear the idea of having to be constantly plagued by these vexatious musings.
maybe a good cry would help, but the tears won’t come out of your stinging eyes blinded by bright and flickering neon shop signs lined up beside the street. they’re saltwater in your lungs, making it difficult for you to breathe and to make sense of why you don’t feel like yourself today. it’s hormones. it’s always the hormones, you try telling yourself.
you’re sitting infront of the glass wall separating the sidewalk and the convenience store, watching the humans and the cars speeding past without much thought in your head… except for the hellish torture you’re inflicting on yourself. you sniffle loudly as you chew the spicy noodles in your mouth. your tongue is tingling and almost numb, but you lift up the flimsy wooden chopsticks to eat more of it because somehow, this is exactly what you needed. perhaps, it wasn’t accidental when you ended up pouring most of the buldak sauce.
however, your own little bubble gets popped by a tattooed hand you recognize all too well. it sets down a bottle of cold water infront of your cup of noodles.
“hi there.”
jungkook kisses the top of your head before occupying the stool on your left, which is the second seat farthest from the door that chimes every time a new customer walks in. he is very much not naked anymore, wearing a plain white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. his hair is still damp, bangs forming a perfect comma on his forehead, and the thin silver chain dangling from his delicate neck sparkles when the light grazes it.
“aigoo, why are you so messy?“
the doe eyes behind his glasses smile at you warmly as he wipes your swollen lips, the paper napkin you’ve been neglecting now stained with the dark red sauce.
“you’re here?” you ask dumbly, wanting to slap yourself right after the words escape your mouth because yes, what the fuck, he’s here. he’s touching you, and he’s real.
“of course, i’m here,” his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek before he answers, sounding upset. he removes his glasses and places it on top of the long white table. “i just wore the first things i saw then speedwalked here. i was sorting out the laundry and your handkerchief had blood all over it! care to explain?”
you guiltily avoid eye-contact, reverting your attention to the food as you poke and mix the noodles that have gone dry due to the cold air. “you didn’t have to. i already cleaned the wound twice- my left arm just got scratched.” you shrug your shoulders meekly. “i had a bad day, that’s all.”
“who do i have to fight, huh? who hurt you and ruined your day?” he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting it up to make you look at him. his sincere concern is written all over his widened round eyes and creased forehead. “tell me, baby. i’ll make them pay.”
“well,” you anxiously sink your teeth on your bottom lip, a hesitant effort to control yourself because the particular word tastes too sour on your tongue. “your ex was just my last straw, you know? i don’t even want to call you ‘babe’ anymore.” your voice gradually quiets down in exasperation.
“why not?!”
you roll your eyes with a huff, pushing his hand away. “you’ll just remember her every time i say it.”
you grab the bottle of water, twisting off the cap and hissing when its ridges scratch the heel of your palm. you take big gulps of the beverage, feeling refreshed after the burning onslaught that assaulted your mouth.
“oh, come here. you- i need you closer.”
you squeak when you feel the heavy metal chair moving closer towards jungkook’s direction, one hand flying to your mouth and the other gripping his shoulder in fear of falling. he jokingly copies you when you send him a sharp glare. he puts an arm around you to affectionately hold the curve of your waist, anchoring his elbow on the table to rest his face on the palm of his hand.
“i took care of that, alright? i asked the company and they told me they put her on the waitlist. pretty sure she knows, too- that she’s not getting the job.“ he raises his perfectly shaped eyebrows in jest, playfully sticking out his tongue. “i told her i can’t help her, and not to contact me again in the future because i’m in a committed relationship. with you.” he squeezes your hip to reiterate his words. “then i blocked her number. i thought i did it before, but i guess i forgot to? ah, i don’t know!”
a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips and he happily grins when he notices, deep dimples making an appearance. unable to resist the urge, he briefly draws closer to kiss your cheek.
“besides, i forgot she even existed. why would i think of her when my favorite person is right infront of me? that’s absurd.”
he was truthfully flabbergasted at the foggy memories that resurfaced when he read her name, had one of those ‘oh, that’s right, this happened,’ and ‘why the fuck did i like this person again?’ moments.
“you’re the only one i think of when i hear the word ‘babe’. and when i hear love songs, or breakup songs, because they make me imagine us breaking up and i get so fucking sad.” his expression crumples into a look of sheepishness after spitting out the unplanned confession.
it’s terrifying at times, how an imaginary breakup with you feels more painful than his past heartbreaks combined. he almost lost you once, and he won’t let that happen again. he removes his hand on your waist to tenderly caress your hair when you bury your face in your hands.
shaking your head, you giggle at the genuine distress lacing his voice when he said the last sentence. “what are you saying?”
and then it finally happens.
restrained sobs replace the carefree giggles racking your body. your hot tears soak the palm of your hands until they drip down to your wrists. your frail voice comes out trembling, shattered, and disgustingly vulnerable for a space scattered with prying eyes and ears.
“…i just- fuck, i don’t want to say this but- i don’t think you understand- that i’m selfish. and i want you all for myself. i can’t stand that everybody wants to have you. i hate it, jungkook.”
your name rolls off from his tongue with a soft sigh as he pulls you in for a tight embrace. the comfort of his love and warmth further breaks you down, and you almost make yourself bleed to keep your cries quiet. his silken lips brush against your temple before he puckers them for a kiss that lasts four, five, six… seconds. you begin wondering if he might just stay like this forever, not that you mind, until he detaches himself to speak and you hear the smooching sound that signals the end of it.
“shhh, trust me, baby. i do.” he rubs your shoulder to soothe your tensed up body. “but i don’t care about that. they can die trying because i only want to be yours.”
you swallow the lump in your throat as his reassuring words tug at your heartstrings. you wiggle out of his secure arms, wiping your tears with the paws of your jacket as you force a smile. “it’s embarrassing. i don’t want to cry here.”
“how about in there, then?” he teasingly undoes the third button of his shirt, exposing more of his honey skin to the cool air. it reveals the rest of his silver chain, and his defined pecs are also peeking out. you whine in protest of his scandalousness, pounding his chest lightly with your closed fist.
he chuckles, corners of her crinkling with mischief as he buttons himself up again. “i’m kidding, i’m kidding-” he cradles your face in his hands, gingerly wiping away the tears still rolling down your cheeks.
between the two of you, he admits that he’s the one who cries more easily. it takes a colossal build-up of emotions for your tears to be released, and today’s influx caused your sink to overflow at long last. seeing you weep, it feels like a direct stab to the heart— especially unbearable, twisting deeper, when he’s part reason why. even so, it’s a big relief when the weight you’re carrying is being unloaded. but he understands that you don’t want to do that here… not here.
“as if you’ll let someone steal me away from you, huh? i know you, you cunning minx.”
you feign innocence, batting your eyelashes. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“that’s exactly what i’m talking about.” he smirks before planting a chaste kiss on tip of your nose. “don’t cry anymore. i love you.”
“i love you, too. but-” you sniffle, frowning at him as you motion at the cup of noodles infront of you. “why did you have to go and make me feel better? i don’t feel like finishing this anymore. it’s too spicy.”
“yeah, i can tell. look at your face. oh-” he squeezes your puffy face in one hand. “you were already crying eating that, poor baby… i’ll just finish the rest, how about that?”
“please,” you smile sweetly, delighted with his preposition. “i’ll buy ice cream. do you want anything? beer?”
“beer-” his face lights up like a christmas tree when it dawns on him that you said the word simultaneously.
you beam proudly, recounting the time you’ve been well-acquainted with every nook and cranny of jungkook’s essence of being. “did i pass the test? i’m taking my master’s degree in kookology.”
after jungkook finished your spicy noodles, he claimed his appetite only treated it as an appetizer and it demanded to be served ramyeon for the main course. that brings you to this moment, your boyfriend applying bandaids on your arm while he waits for his food to be cooked. concurrently, you devour your cone of vanilla ice cream.
“babe, i think two is enough.“ you attempt to stop him from opening another one of the teddy bear patterned bandaids. he found them displayed by the counter when he paid for the ramyeon, and only then did he realize that he forgot why he ran to you in the first place.
“they’re not- it goes all the way down your elbow.”
and you can’t argue with him because he looks undoubtedly pissed off, his expression instantly darkening when he saw the damage that damn zipper did to your skin. if this happened to him, he would be in a terrible mood for the rest of the day, too.
he plants a healing kiss on top of each one and your heart flutters at the loving gestures, but you feel a little ridiculous walking around with three bandaids running across your arm. you decide to wear your jacket again in order to hide them, since you’re freezing beside the airconditioner anyway.
jungkook starts eating his second round of noodles, but not before boasting that he perfectly separated the wooden chopsticks unlike you. you roll your eyes at his cocky grin and tiny dance of celebration, taking another bite of the cone you’ve consumed halfway.
the two of you comically freeze at the same time when a familiar ringtone tickles your ears.
“who would be calling at this hour? it’s 1am!” jungkook puts down his chopsticks to fish out his phone from the depths of his pocket, his thick satoori accent slipping out as he chides the person on the other line. he shakes his head with a laugh when he sees the name written on the screen. “ey, of course, it’s him again. i knew it.”
you watch him with an amused smile, his reaction giving you an inkling of who it is.
he answers the video call and props up the phone on his tall can of beer, grabbing his chopsticks to resume eating. “hyung, did you just wake up again?”
judging by the background, taehyung is in his gaming room. the given keywords being messy hair and eyes as puffy as yours, you’re pretty sure the answer to your boyfriend’s question is yes.
his deep and rough voice rumbles through the speaker. “jungkook-ah, i just caught up to our gc. where’s ___?”
“with me. why?” jungkook answers, words muffled as he chews and bounces his legs with the pleasure of having his food craving beyond satisfied.
taehyung ignores his question for the second time, instead calling out your name to catch your attention.
“whyyy?” you mimic his sulky tone, slightly shifting the phone to the side to show him your face.
you snicker when he flashes you his famous boxy smile, almost choking on your ice cream when his following remarks cause jungkook to throw a fit.
“play with me. no one else is awake and i’m getting bored of jungkook. he doesn’t want to play new games.”
“yah! you know i can still hear you, right?!” he takes a break from chugging his beer to throw his retort.
“i know, i wanted you to.” taehyung blows a raspberry at his best friend.
you grimace, stealing the opportunity to butt in before their banter lengthens. “listen, i’ll play with you if you let me play with tannie again.”
he opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes it again to stare at you nonchalantly. you impatiently quirk an eyebrow at his silence. “soooo?”
“wait there. i’ll think about it.”
and then he ends the call.
jungkook throws his head back, bursting into vibrant laughter after witnessing the interaction, and your head drops on the table with a pitiful whimper.
with bam staying at the training center for the meantime, you awfully miss the rush of happy chemicals flooding your brain in the company of man’s best friend. it was two weeks ago when you and jungkook hung out at taehyung’s house. you spent some time with yeontan at the park after you complained about getting bored watching them play ‘i’m on observation duty’. and he wasn’t… very happy when his dog started flat-out ignoring him in favor of your presence ever since you came back from the walk. tannie was adamant on sitting on your lap during dinnertime, even almost following you past the front door when it was time for you to leave.
“aww, my baby.” jungkook strokes your back with faux sympathy. “he hasn’t moved on from it yet. give him some time… maybe, like, five more minutes?”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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little-diable · 5 months
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I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)
I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)
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Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts. 
The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him. 
“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips. 
Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect. 
“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.” 
“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together. 
“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her. 
……
“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions. 
His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.
“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.
“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.
“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing. 
Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy. 
“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.” 
Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. 
“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.
He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet. 
No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room. 
……
The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.
“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her. 
“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud. 
“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months. 
“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.
“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap. 
“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his. 
“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.
“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.
“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her. 
(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time. 
“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.
Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart. 
“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.
The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.
And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.
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riediaries · 4 months
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satoru knows every part of you. every things you like and hate. he's able to locate each and every mole you have on your body and how many it is. it's like knowing you have been a second nature to him. in order words, he knows your whole nature and that's how you fell in love with him.
he knows you don't like eating a watermelon with seeds on it. you don't want to spit it out after or let alone eat it.
satoru silently observes you as you payed all of your attention to the sliced watermelon on your hands. picking every black seeds you see in the fruit.
you were getting irritated and he sighs, picking a sliced watermelon on the table and removed all the seeds in mere seconds.
"here, eat this. i already removed all of the seeds." he hands you a sliced watermelon. the red juicy part was clean. no seeds. just like how you like it.
"ah.. thanks.." you murmur, accepting the fruit and that was first time you felt a fluttering emotion on your tummy as you stare at the watermelon he handed you.
"mhm.." he hums. "you don't like it with the seeds on it, right?" he asks and you nodded. he hums again, nodding his head in a subtle way.
no seeds on her sliced watermelon, got it.
you like the beach, especially the sunset. he remembers peeking on your phone one time and due to his curiosity, he opened your photo gallery and you have a folder named 'sunsets<3'.
it has a lot of your pictures in the beach, capturing the breathtaking sunset and there are also pictures with just the sun but he likes the pictures with you in it. you're prettier than the sunset, anyways.
"we should go here sometime. the four of us." he tells suguru as they walk on the sand barefooted.
they just finished their mission and their flight will be tomorrow morning so they're spending their time to relax.
satoru keeps his eye on the setting sun. pink and purples hues were seen on the sky.
picture.. yes. i should take a picture for her. he thoughts and brought out his phone to take a picture. he sends the picture to you.
annoying blue-eyed freak: sent a photo.
annoying blue-eyed freak: sunset's pretty here today. you might like it.
you take a look at the photo he sent and the photo's automatically saved on your folder 'picture he sends'.
sunset lover princess: thanks, love it.
he smiles over the three letter word you sent. yep, his day's now complete with just your reply.
unknowingly to him, suguru secretly took a photo of him and he captured the most breathtaking satoru gojo photo to exist.
it's a photo of him on his side, smiling on his phone and the background is the sunset.
cool bangs: sent a photo.
your phone dings. you thought it's another photo of sunset from satoru but no. it's satoru with the sunset but he's not looking at the camera.
you stare at it for good few minutes.
cool bangs: if you're just going to stare at it, you might as well save it. i might delete it.
that message from suguru alone had your fingers saving his photo and put it on another album. a secret album named 'photos i love'.
yes, definitely 'love'.
satoru also knows that you love movie nights with them. horror, romance, or action. name all the genres present. you once told him that it's not about the movie you're excited but being able to spend time with your friends.
being a jujutsu sorcerer at a young age costs your freedom as a child and to dream. you will never know when you will die or vanish from this world. that's why you're spending all of their freedom time with you and they're actually okay with it.
same feelings, as they said.
"ahh! suguru! tell me when the haunted dolls are gone!" satoru clings to suguru as he scream out of his lungs.
"no, you watch it satoru. be a big brave man." he teases the young boy more. "i heard she likes men who's brave and can watch horror movies with her." he whispers to his best friend.
satoru eyes his best friend with a look of suspicious. "are you... sure?"
"her biggest turn off is actually a scared cat like men." he hums, adding more false informations about your type. "meaning, a boy like you, satoru." he dramatically covered his forehead and his eyes to express his disappointment for his best friend.
suguru knows that even when his best friend is screaming like a lady, you'll still like him. even though he can't bear to watch a single horror movie, you'll still like him because he's satoru. the annoying blue-eyed freak that constantly running on your mind twenty-four seven.
the two best friends eyes the two of you. shoko and you, unimpressed on their nonstop bickering and satoru's screams and unbothered on the horror scene in front of you.
wow. just wow. what a scene.
ever since then, you always invite them to watch a newly released movie, mostly horrors but in rare cases, you want to watch romance.
"oh sweet. they're kissing like it's the end of the world." satoru commented as he pushes a mouthful of popcorn on his mouth.
shoko and suguru went out for a smoke since romance is not really their thing but they still agreed to watch just to see you happy. and they couldn't refuse when you were that cute begging them to watch it with them.
"because that's how they are desperate to be with each other." you reply. "i mean, you'll surely kiss a person like that when the world's trying to separate you. you will pour all of your emotions in that kiss to express your feelings." you further explains.
he raises an eyebrow at you. "i thought you're only interested in horror. why are you so knowledgeable about love?"
"books..?"
"yeah? and?"
"what do you mean by that?"
"have you ever kissed a person like that before?" his question caught you off guard and you turns to him.
"what? no! it's not like that! do i need to have an experience to explain those?" you defend yourself. you haven't been kissed yet!
"want me to give you an experience, then?"
you were caught you off guard and you didn't have time to react when he leans to you, kissing the side of your lips. too close to be called a kiss. too close to end your 'no first kiss' phase.
"i like you." he mutters as he looks at you straight in the eye. you're still close to each other and you can feel his breathe on your skin. "more than any of my favorite sweets." he adds, making you laugh.
"i like you, too. more than any favorite sunset i had captured and saw." you confess.
he smiles but his face immediately turns into a sour face. "even though i can barely watch a horror movie?" he asks cutely and you burst into laugh.
"w-who.." you can't stop yourself from laughing. "who said that?"
"suguru." he mentions his best friend. so, the dark haired male is the suspect on spreading false claims.
"I like someone who removes all of the seeds on my sliced watermelon." he smiles at that sentence.
"i like someone who will immediately thought of me whenever he sees sunset and sends me a picture of it." he smiles even more as he closes the gap between you slowly.
"yeah? and? you like someone who's very handsome, too, right?" he grins. "you like a certain someone whose contact name is 'annoying blue-eyed freak', right?"
it made you chuckle. how did he even know that one? you always made sure to lock your phone and keep the password to yourself only.
"i like someone who can't watch a horror movie with me and full of screams–"
he shuts you up by putting his lips onto yours and then pulls away.
your 'no first kiss' phase have officially signed off.
satoru clearly knows that you love movie nights, especially horror movies with him screaming but satoru knows that you love him even more than your collection of horror movies and the sunset you have ever captured and saw in your whole life.
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