#also i went on a date and this will be secret bcs none of you read my tags so wow yeah

[neos127]

WITH GREAT POWER COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

pairing. spider-man!jake x gn!reader genre. fluff + hcs notes. had to make this bc i’ve been a spider-man fan for like 2827282 years and i love jake sooooo ! wc. 1.4k

• EVEN though he’s a wall crawling superhero who can stop a bus with his bare hands, spider-man jake is a complete nerd who can’t pull a girl. despite his charming good looks and gorgeous smile, he is avoided like the plague (like all spider-man movies which makes no sense bc they’re hot !!!)

• but somehow, he was able to get your attention. you, the person who was liked and envied by a lot of people in school. you were on track to a good college and had a stellar internship at oscorp. you were absolutely perfect in jake’s eyes- and he was in yours.

• jake never made the first move with you, too scared of rejection. he was surprised when you suddenly spoke to him one day, asking if he was okay after getting into an altercation with flash thompson. “you know my name?” he stuttered, blushing when you laughed at the question. “well of course, but i just wanted to make sure you knew your name. seemed like you hit your head pretty hard.”

• after that it seemed as if the two of you ran into each other everywhere. on the street, in the library and even this one cafe that jake often went to. this helped jake get to know you more and fall even more in love with you.

• jake was always flustered around you and you noticed it. his ears or cheeks were red when you directed your attention onto him and you picked up on his nervous habit of playing with his glasses. it was adorable and made you constantly question why none of the girls in your school wanted him.

• whenever the two of you would study at the library, jake had trouble keeping his eyes off you. you were so pretty when focused and it just made his heart flutter. when you became so tired to where your eyes started drooping, jake began to finish your homework for you. you scolded him for it, but he didn’t mind, wanting to help you out in any way he could.

• your first date with jake was a disaster when the boy forgot his own strength out of nerves and collapses the table you were about to eat dinner on. jake made an amazing home cooked meal for the both of you at his aunts place for your first date. he felt embarrassed about not being able to take you anywhere fancy but you brushed it off and gushed about how romantic he was. unfortunately jake had no idea how to act normal around you and caused the dinning table to break. you were in shock that the legs gave out simply by him leaning on it, but jake just assured you that it was a really old table.

• when the two of you became official, jake desperately wanted to tell you his secret, but he also doesn’t want to put you in danger. it was hard to keep making excuses, but he couldn’t get you involved in his dangerous lifestyle. you started to become suspicious and a bit insecure in the relationship. all you wanted was for jake to trust you, not understanding why he wouldn’t tell you what was going on with him.

• when you’ve had enough and tell the boy that you need a break, he nearly looses his shit. jake was hoping to stay in a relationship with you without having to mention his alter-ego, but he soon realized that was a stupid dream. later that night he ended up knocking on your window as spider-man which was honestly terrifying from your perspective. you thought that maybe you had done something illegal and he was going to take you in. as soon as you opened the window, you began to word vomit.

“i know i should’ve watched the movie in theaters instead of an illegal website but im saving my money for this new purse i want!”

“huh?”

• jake takes his mask off in the midst of your rambling, causing you to stop short. your jaw was on the floor for about a minute and the silence made jake was to take a dive out of your window. before you could speak, he began to explain everything, reassuring you that the lie had been tearing him apart inside. he had only wanted to protect you. you cut off his rambling with a kiss, telling the boy that you forgave him and that it was killing you to be away from him.

• you had a lot of questions about his powers, wanting to know what exactly he could do. it always made you giggle to see him stick to the ceiling so he would often do that when you were sad. seeing that cute smile on your face was enough to make his whole day.

• jake offered to take you swinging around the city one day but you denied him at first. you weren’t too big on heights and was terrified that he would drop you. “i’m the strongest man in the world how could i drop you?” he asked, making you roll your eyes and grudgingly agree. turns out— the experience was terrifying and jake accidentally released you from his hold mid air. he caught you shortly after, but the mini free fall you took made you demand that he take you to the ground. you didn’t talk to him for about an hour afterwards until he bought you your favorite ice cream.

• jake is the definition of golden retriever. it’s insane how bubbly and giddy this man is…does he ever get mad?? you often wonder. even with all the stress he’s under from being spider-man he’s just so happy. he claims it’s because you’re now in his life.

• one time jake crawled into your room, badly bruised and bloodied causing you to freak out. you immediately dropped your homework on your bed, racing over to the boy. he flashed you a weak smile as you set him up in your desk chair, trying to reassure you, but it was useless. as you fixed him up with whatever you could find in your first aid kit, you scolded him about not being more careful. he stayed silent and took it, knowing that you cared about him deeply and hated to see him in such a condition.

• randomly one night you asked why he still wore glasses even though his eyesight had been fixed after the spider bite. he claimed that it reminded him of how his life used to be, and he found comfort in the normalcy of it. you could never understand, but you emphasized and told him that the look was very attractive. jake couldn’t hide the blush that spread across his face.

• this boy’s metabolism is absolutely insane. if you cook dinner for the both of you, he has about four servings before he’s finally full. he’ll also eat all the snacks in your fridge, so it’s best to not get too attached to whatever’s in your fridge. it’s astounding to you how he still manages to keep his body the same, but you assume it’s because of his powers.

• he will go on the nerdiest rants ever and because you love jake so much, you listen. when it happens to be about physics or math, you kind of tune out, focusing on his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. sometimes if he starts to ramble, you’ll lean over and kiss him, making the boy’s face flush red.

• patching jake up after his patrol usually ends up with the two of you making out on the floor. it doesn’t go very far when jake starts wincing because of whatever pain he is in, but you love the feeling of his lips on yours whatever chance you get.

• he almost lost you to one of the villains he was fighting and it had to have been the scariest experience of his life. jake could never imagine life without you, and seeing you injured simply because you knew spider-man made his head hurt. you tried reassuring him that you were alright multiple times, but jake didn’t listen as he cried and held you in his arms. it was a close call, and he wouldn’t have it happen again.

• despite his busy schedule with school and spider-man duties, he tries his best to make time for you and spoils you rotten when he can. he’s such a sweetheart and lives for the smile on your face whenever you see him.

• spider-man jake is truly the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

©neos127

#enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha jake #enha scenarios #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #jake sim scenarios #enhypen x you #enhypen scenarios #enha headcanons #sim jake headcanons

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 10 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

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Summary: A family occasion takes a turn for a worse when Mary tells her aunt Bridie to drop dead, which she takes seriously. At her wake, Michelle has the bright idea to bring laced scones, which are taken and distributed among the guests.

A/N: credits to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the script of the episode for me :)) btw just a warning, it gets a bit heated a little towards the end, but not too much i think. Also talks of drugs bc duh

***

It was becoming a bit difficult to keep up with who knew about Y/n and James’ relationship and who didn’t. Y/n’s sister Erin knew that she fancied James, but wasn’t updated on the fact that they had been dating for over three months now. Clare knew that the pair were going out after catching them kissing at the Take That concert a few weeks ago. But the rest of the group and the teens’ families were none the wiser.

Except for Y/n’s father, Gerry.

One night, everyone was hanging around the Quinn household. There were movies, loads of chatting, and some dinner. But with so many people in the house, it was hard to have even a moment alone with James. So, while everyone argued over what to put on next, Y/n snuck out to the front room, boyfriend close behind.

“I thought we weren’t gonna try to keep things a secret,” James said as he leaned against the wall, Y/n tucked into his side and holding his hand.

“I know Jamie. But with situations like this, I think it’s better to sneak away. I mean, imagine the shock that would come to Mammy, Granda, or Michelle if any of ’em found out.”

“Yeah…” James sighed, realizing Y/n was right.

“Now imagine if all three of them found out at the same time.” Y/n laughed at the idea while James’ eyes widened in horror. “Besides, wanting a moment to ourselves isn’t all bad, right?” She asked, looking up at the boy.

“Right.” He mirrored her soft smile before leaning down to catch her lips in a kiss that was eagerly returned. 

So eager that the two didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re lucky it’s me catching you two instead of your mother,” Gerry spoke, startling Y/n and James, who jumped apart. He felt a bit awkward catching his daughter kissing her boyfriend, but he didn’t look too surprised that she had a boyfriend in the first place.

“Da, I can explain.” Y/n tried to go on, but Gerry held up a hand, signaling her to stop.

“I already know.” He said with a smile, hands clasping behind his back. “About you two. Never would’ve if they didn’t decide to film that concert you girls went to.” That new information mortified Y/n and James. But they didn’t have time to fully react, because Gerry continued. “I think the three of us should have a little chat.”

***

The conversation wasn’t as bad as Y/n thought it would’ve been. Gerry was clearly happy and okay with the relationship, just wanting to make sure that they weren’t doing anything too serious. That topic might’ve been the most embarrassing part of the interaction for Y/n.

James, on the other hand, seemed scared shitless the entire time. But Y/n suspected that her father wasn’t so hard on him because of how he was treated by his father-in-law. He probably didn’t want to create some kind of a cycle. Plus, Gerry was pretty fond of James, even before he learned about him and his daughter being an item.

The entire talk played on a loop in Y/n’s head as she sat in church with the rest of her family, waiting for their relative’s wedding to start. Soon enough, the familiar tune of ‘Here Comes The Bride’ started to play, and everyone in the room stood.

“Where do you reckon Aunt Sarah is?” Y/n asked her sister Erin, noticing that a family member was missing from their pew. But her question was soon answered when Sarah entered the room and started walking down the aisle, dressed in white. “Good God.” 

Gasps and murmurs filled the room as Sarah went to stand with her family in the pew, revealing a horrified bride and her father behind her.

“Jesus, but that taxi took forever, so it did.” Sarah sighed. The bride-to-be looked at Sarah, absolutely appalled as she passed by. “Ach, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Mary rolled her eyes and looked up towards the sky as she took a deep breath.

“Give me strength…” She muttered.

***

Y/n was a bit surprised that the Quinn family, mainly her aunt Sarah, was still invited to the reception. But that didn’t stop her from trying to have a good time. She, her sister, and her cousin drank and danced around as they waited for their friends to arrive.

Soon enough, Erin spotted their friends, nudging her sister and cousin to gain their attention. They quickly ran to the venue entrance to meet with the other girls and James.

“Muthafuckas!” Michelle yelled in greetings, arms spread out and grin wide. 

“How’s it been?” Clare asked with a smile.

The sisters and Orla all had different responses, but had the same reaction when Mary snuck up behind the three of them.

“Girls!” The shout startled them, and everyone whipped around to look at her.

“Jesus, Mammy,” Y/n muttered.

“I said you could invite one friend to the reception. One!”

“Mammy, they don’t come separately,” Erin said, rolling her eyes. She thought her mother would’ve learned this after years of friendship.

“We’re like one big set,” Y/n said, gesturing to the group of teenagers.

“Aye, we’re pack animals, Mary,” Michelle said. Mary was about to say something, possibly tell them to leave or further reprimand them, when James spoke.

“I love your hat, Mrs. Quinn.” He said with a smile, eyeing the accessory. Mary smiled, and the girls were surprised to see that her slightly sour mood had seemed to disappear.

“Thanks, son.” She said, giving him a nod before looking at the whole group, a bit more serious. “No wild carry-on. Do you hear me? We’re in enough bother as it is. Best behavior.”

“Completely.” Clare nodded, taking the commands to heart.

“You’ll have no trouble from us, Mary,” Michelle said with an innocent smile, which should be worrying. Mary walked off, and Michelle turned back to the group once she was out of earshot. “Okay, girls, who wants to do drugs?” Y/n snorted at the complete 180, but Michelle was completely serious.

The girls, mainly Michelle and Erin, like always, had a back and forth about the drugs and someone named Macca and so on. Y/n used this moment to turn to James, almost glued to his side at the back of the group as they all walked around the reception party.

“Trying to butter up Mammy, are you?” She asked teasingly, thinking about how James’ little comment completely changed her mother’s sour demeanor.

James laughed a little, throwing his head back, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile stupidly at the boy. He shrugged.

“Well, I figured I might as well start now to try to get on her good side. It’s only a matter of time, I think.” Y/n nodded in agreement.

“We could tell them.” She suggested after a small moment of silence. James perked up, both surprised and delighted by the notion. “I mean, like you said, it’s only a matter of time. And they’d probably prefer hearing it from us over walking in on us doing something.”

James’ cheeks reddened at the sentence. He blinked a few times, his mind clearly drifting off to some kind of thought.

“And by something… you mean like-” Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and music started blasting through the speakers. Y/n lit up in excitement along with the rest of the room, while James looked a bit confused at the commotion that started to happen.

“‘Rock the Boat’! It’s ‘Rock the Boat!” Clare squealed as she recognized the song.

“Happy fuckin’ days!” Michelle said, and the girls ran to the dance floor. Y/n was dragging James behind her, who seemed slightly alarmed by everyone’s intense enthusiasm. 

Everyone sat on the floor in long, giant rows, fighting for space. The girls were able to push their way to the front, synchronously dancing with the rest of the party people. There, the girls continued their drug conversation, with Y/n and James now joining in.

“Look, Michelle,” Clare said to the girl behind her. “Drugs are illegal, drugs are addictive, and perhaps most importantly, in this country, you can lose your kneecaps if you’re caught doing them. And I like my kneecaps, Michelle; they suit my knees.”

“You do have crackin’ kneecaps, Clare.” Orla smiled at the girl, having to leave to the side and turn her head to look at the blonde.

“Is that true?” James asked, lips close to Y/n’s ear.

“What?” Y/n turned around, almost startled by how James was to her face. “Clare’s kneecaps?”

“No. I mean losing your kneecaps.”

“Oh. Clare’s a bit dramatic, Jamie.” The girl turned back around to face ahead. “But she’s a bit right, I think.”

“What?!”

Before any conversations could continue, a dull but loud thud was heard from a corner of the room. Everyone looked to see Aunt Bridie lying on the floor, with the Quinn family looking at Mary in shock.

***

The next few days felt tense at the Quinn household. It was mainly the teenagers being fearful of Mary, because they believed that she was the reason for her Aunt Bridie’s sudden death and didn’t want to be her next victim. The house had never been so clean and tidy.

“I just cannot believe it.” Mary’s tone was almost flat as she stared off into space, clutching her teacup and rarely ever sipping it.

“Listen, Mary,” Sarah said, sitting in the chair beside her. “No matter what you’ve done, you’re still my sister. I’ll stand by you.”

“I haven’t done anything, Sarah.”

“Exactly, love. Everybody knows you didn’t mean to kill the old boot.” Grandpa Joe paused to take a sip of his coffee. “God rest her soul.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Mary responded, immediately tired of the assumption.

“You know what I mean, not kill.” Joe looked around as if he would find the word he was looking for on the wall. “Hex.”

“I didn’t hex her either, Da.” She said defensively. “It was just a very tragic-”

“My mother, she had the gift too, y’know.” Joe interrupted. “By God, that woman could make her enemies drop like flies.”

“Look, I don’t have any gift,” Mary said, letting go of her teacup to lay her hands flat on the table to show finality and seriousness. “There’s no dark forces at play here. I just said somethin’... unfortunate that happened to-”

“Cause her death?” Sarah asked.

“Coincide with her death.” Mary corrected.

Ah, yes. Mary telling her aunt Bridie to drop dead and then her actually doing it was just an unfortunate coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.

Meanwhile, at the sink, Y/n dried the last dish that Erin washed and handed it to Orla to put away. The three girls had been working as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Mary. Erin was the first to speak, turning around slowly with a nervous tone.

“Right. Well, that’s the dishes done. Would you like another cup of tea, Mammy?”

As if remembering she even had a cup of tea, Mary looked down at the cup and took a quick sip.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll just grab the Hoover n’give the stairs a bit of a going over.”

“Aye, and I can sweep the hall and such,” Y/n added, trying to remember the last place she had seen the broom. 

“And I’ll maybe do a bit of dusting,” Orla said.

Mary raised an eyebrow, suspicion of the girls pulling her out of her dazed and solemn mood.

“What’s gotten into you all?” She asked. “What’re you up to? What’s going on?”

“Nothin’!” Erin answered, still seeming a bit scared. “We just thought that we should pull our weight a bit more, Mammy.”

“You do so much for us, Aunt Mary.”

“Aye, Mammy, you deserve a bit of a break.”

“I can’t hex people, girls,” Mary said frustratedly. “It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Gerry waltzed into the kitchen and smiled at his wife. He placed a hand on her shoulder as part of a greeting.

“So, how’s the Wicked Witch of the North West?” The question seemed so loving and innocent. Y/n would’ve laughed if Mary hadn’t seemed like she was actually about to murder someone.

“Who put fifty p in the eedgit?” Joe asked, glaring at Gerry. Gerry looked at him confused, wondering what he had done this time.

Mary groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“God, how am I going to go to this wake?”

“It’ll be grand, love,” Joe said. “But listen, say if things do get heated, try not to rise to it. The last thing we want is another dead body on our hands here.”

Mary stared up at Joe with a blank expression.

“I’ll do my best, Da.”

***

Later that evening, the Quinns and McCools arrived at the wake. Everyone seemed a bit surprised and startled to see Mary, clearly believing the rumors that she had been her Aunt Bridie’s undoing. After a slightly awkward encounter with Eamon, Bridie’s son, the girls escaped everyone by going upstairs to the room that held Bridie herself.

“She really suits bein’ dead, doesn’t she?” Orla said after a good moment of solemn silence, staring down at the woman.

“What?” Erin seemed disturbed by what her cousin had said, but Y/n nodded.

“No, yeah, I agree. I like her better like this.”

“Y/n, she’s dead.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you liked her better living?”

Before Erin could answer, the door to the room opened. The girls turned to see Clare peeking her head through.

“Can we come in?” She asked in a whisper.

“Why are you whispering, Clare?” Y/n asked, tilting her head in confusion. Clare paused, thinking it over.

“I don’t know.”

The rest of the group crowded around Bridie’s casket. Michelle and Clare walked to the end by her feet, and James decided to stand behind Y/n. He rested a hand gently on her shoulder, as if to comfort her, and she raised a hand of her own to lay on his, as if to thank him.

“Thanks for comin’, guys.” Erin sighed, seeming slightly distressed now. “It’s nice to have a bit of support in this very difficult time.” Everyone seemed very confused by the statement. 

“You thought she was a dick,” Michelle said.

“I never said that.”

“You did, Erin,” Orla said.

“I’m pretty sure we all thought she was a dick, but you were the vocal one about it,” Y/n added.

“Aye, I’ve definitely heard you say it,” Clare said.

“Okay, can I just check something?” James asked, clearly focused on something else. The girls looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Everybody else can see the dead body, right?”

Everyone took a glance at the body in question, trying to figure out what the problem was.

“It’s just Bridie, Jamie,” Y/n said.

“It’s Bridie’s corpse.” The boy corrected. “It’s Bridie’s dead corpse.”

“It’s her wake. What were you expectin’?” Michelle asked, rolling her eyes.

“Haven’t you ever seen a dead body before?” Erin asked.

“Of course not!” James nearly yelled, shocked that Erin would even ask such a question. Michelle scoffed.

“Christ, but the English are weird.”

Orla leaned down close to Bridie, taking her face in her hands and looking up at James. She had that childlike but absentminded wonder in her eyes and smile that she always had.

“You can touch her if you want.”

James flinched, moving his hands to Y/n’s hips as he took a slight step back. As he moved back, he maneuvered Y/n to act as a shield between him and the dead body and Orla. James looked at Orla in disgusted shock.

“Why the hell would I want to touch her?” Y/n snorted at James’ suddenly high-pitched voice.

“It’s nice.” Orla smiled brightly.

“Stop it.”

“It’s just a dead body, James,” Clare said in a comforting tone, trying to get him to calm down. “We’re all gonna be one someday.”

“Oh, thanks for that, Clare!” Horrified, James brought Y/n closer until her back was pressed against his front. It was as if everyone else was some sort of strange or bad energy that could only be warded off by Y/n, and she was happy to go along with it. “Yeah, that’s helped!”

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Y/n said, patting one of the hands gripping her hips. James relaxed just a bit, but was still weary because of how weird this whole situation was to him. “Calm yourself.”

“It really makes you think, doesn’t it?” Michelle said solemnly, staring at Bridie for a second before looking at the girls. “Death.” She sighed dramatically, and everyone immediately wondered what she was up to this time. “It just… just makes you wanna… do everythin’ and just… try everythin’.”

“What’s going on, Michelle?” Clare asked, looking at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, what are you on about?” Y/n eyed the girl with a raised brow. Michelle suddenly seemed excited, a stark contrast to her fake grimness.

“Do you wanna see something’ class?” Michelle then threw her purse, which was, for some reason, big and bulky, onto Bridie’s feet. Someone would’ve reprimanded her for disrespecting the deceased by using Bridie as a table, but they were too busy watching her pull a big Tupperware out of her purse. “Prepare yourself, girls.” She then popped the lid off to show what was inside. She looked at her friends excitedly.

“Scones?” Erin asked, clearly unimpressed.

“That’s right.”

“What’s so class about scones?”

“Scones are lovely.” Orla countered, seeming a bit offended by Erin’s uninterest.

“Aye, I like scones.” Clare nodded.

“No, these aren’t any old scones, girls.” Michelle insisted, shaking her head. ��These are funny scones.”

“Funny’s the right word, alright,” Y/n said, reaching for one of the scones in the bin to look at it. As she dropped it back in with the rest, she looked at Michelle with a tilt of her head. “What’s so special about ’em?”

“They’re drug scones!” Clare squeaked, pointing urgently at the food. “She’s put the drugs in the scones!”

“Too fuckin’ right, I have,” Michelle said with a grin. “I wanted to do brownies, but this was the only recipe my ma had, so…”

“I don’t think it’s that hard to find a brownie recipe, Michelle,” Y/n said. 

“I’m not goin’ out of my way to find a brownie recipe, Y/n.”

“We talked about this, Michelle. We agreed.” Clare said, bringing the conversation back to the drugs.

“No, we didn’t,” Michelle argued. “Anyway, drugs aren’t illegal when you put them into food. Everybody knows that.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Michelle,” Y/n said.

“Is that right?” James asked sarcastically, almost glaring with bewilderment at his cousin. “I’m not sure that’s right.”

Just then, the door opened, and everybody froze. An old woman walked in, and the girls quickly recognized her as one of the caterers for the wake.

“Any cups up here?” She asked, walking towards them while looking around. She spotted the tub, and before anyone could stop her, she reached out and grabbed it. “I’ll take that.” The woman said simply before leaving the room.

Everyone stared at where the scones had once been, panic running through them all.

“What the fuck just happened?” Michelle asked the room. Y/n looked at the girl with wide eyes.

“I believe a caterer just took your funny fuckin’ scones to give out at our great Aunt Bridie’s wake, Michelle.”

After another moment of feeling frozen, everyone went downstairs as fast as possible without drawing attention. Defeated and not knowing what to do, the girls sat down on the steps. As they settled, they watched Joe pass by with one of the scones in hand.

“What are we gonna do?” Clare asked frantically.

“It’s fine,” Michelle said shortly. But everyone could tell she was just as panicked as the rest.

“It’s definitely not fine!” Clare hissed. “There’s drug scones down there. People’ll eat the drug scones, then we’ve drugged those people, Michelle.”

“Our granda included.” Y/n butted in, resting her chin on the top of James’ head, who was sitting on one of the steps just below her. “Lord knows what’ll happen to him.”

“So?” Michelle said, clearly worried but trying to seem aloof. “Drugging people isn’t a crime.”

“You’ve a very loose grasp of the law, Michelle,” James said, rubbing at his eyes in disbelief and exhaustion.

“What kind of person brings hash scones to a wake?” Erin asked with a scowl. Michelle scoffed.

“Typical.” She said. “I try to do a nice thing, and this is the thanks I get.”

“A nice thing?” Y/n repeated in disbelief, turning back to look at Michelle. “Oh yeah, how nice. Let’s all get hopped up illegally at a wake. Oh, wait. We can’t, because someone took your stupid scones!”

“It’s terrible,” Clare added, sounding as panicked and scared as usual. “There’s old people down there; what if an old person takes one?”

“Why does everyone get so sentimental about old people?” Michelle asked. “Old people are arseholes.” 

“We’ve got to get ’em back, girls,” Erin said, starting to get scared of the thought of any of her family having a funny scone.

“Look, I’m not disagreeing with you. I bought that stuff so I could get high, not your great Uncle Colm.”

“Oh Christ, I didn’t even think about that,” Y/n muttered. Colm was already a character to begin with; him being high as balls would probably turn him either more boring or unmanageable. Y/n stood up and faced the girls. “Here’s the plan. I’ll head to the kitchen to grab whatever’s left. The rest of you go and find the ones that people have taken and pray that they haven’t taken a bite yet.”

“And remember, girls,” Erin said, standing up with her sister. “Be subtle.” Everyone nodded and split up to do their tasks.

Y/n went to the kitchen and quietly crept to the swinging door. She took a quick look, saw that the few people inside were occupied with different things, and carefully walked in. She was surprised to see her father ranting about cross-contamination and using different bowls. Y/n wondered if he had been roped into helping in the kitchen, but whether he was forced or had volunteered, she smiled at the sight of his sudden passion.

Y/n spotted the scones, about half the amount from the last time she saw them, now plated on a serving platter. While reaching for the plate, the door opened behind her.

“Now listen here, you.” Y/n flinched and turned around quickly, recognizing the voice to be her granda Joe. But he wasn’t looking at her. As usual, he directed his pointed look to Gerry, who looked at his father-in-law, both confused and annoyed.

“Yes, Joe?”

“I just wanna say…” Joe trailed off, getting closer to Gerry and putting a hand on his shoulder. Gerry and Y/n looked at the old man in bewilderment when he laughed. “I think you’re doing a fine job.” Then he patted Gerry’s cheek before turning around and walking out of the kitchen. “Keep up the good work.”

Gerry and Y/n turned their shocked stares to each other once Joe was out of the room. The only thing that broke their eye contact was a timer going off, which somehow snapped Gerry back into his working mode. Using the opportunity of her dad’s distractedness, Y/n swiped the platter and walked out.

The girl soon realized that she and her friends never agreed on a place to meet after retrieving the scones. But not wanting anyone to see her wander around with a platter of scones, she snuck back upstairs, where she was surprised to see James slowly wandering the hallway.

“Hey,” Y/n said with relief, glad it was him instead of a stranger. Or worse, her mother.

“Hey.” He smiled at her, holding up a scone as he walked closer to her. “Found your uncle Colm with this.” He sat the scone on top of the others.

“Thank God you got it before he took a bite.” Y/n laughed lightly, James joining in. “Were you just waiting for someone to come up?”

“Yeah, I thought being up here would be better than wandering around where everyone else was.”

“Smart.” Y/n nodded once, looking around the empty hall. “What do you suppose we do about all of these?”

The two thought for a moment, racking their brains for an idea. James suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Remember when you snuck over to mine that one night, and we watched Goodfellas?”

“Aye, Ray Liotta was a dream, wasn’t he?”

“Sure.” James rolled his eyes at the comment. “But do you remember how Karen got rid of the drugs?”

Y/n took a quick second to think about whether or not she did, in fact, remember. The most memorable things of the night she snuck over to James’ were Ray Liotta, the snacks James had snuck up to his room, and kissing each other to keep loud talking or laughs from gaining the attention of the rest of the household.

“You think it’ll work?” Y/n asked once she remembered what James was talking about. “I mean, these are scones.”

“What other options do we have?” James asked. And to be honest, Y/n couldn’t think of any.

The sound of a knob turning startled the two teens. They scrambled to hide the stolen platter of scones behind them just before the bathroom door a bit down the hall opened up. A middle-aged woman that Y/n barely recognized walked out, and Y/n and James smiled politely at her as she passed.

Once she was down the stairs, James and Y/n ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Let’s just wait for the others here,” Y/n said, balancing the platter on the sink so she wouldn’t have to hold it any longer. “So… what d’ya wanna do?”

It took a few seconds of silence before Y/n and James rushed at each other, quickly becoming a mess of tangled limbs and clashing lips. The couple rarely had time alone for things like this, the heat of the moment always being ignored because of the fear of being caught. But with a locked door, a few minutes of making out couldn’t do much harm.

Y/n’s hands buried themselves into James’ curls, tugging at them as he backed her into the wall next to the door. A hand cupped the back of her neck while the other stayed gripped on her waist, keeping her in place. Not that she’d want to leave.

James’ lips strayed away from Y/n’s, leaving featherlight kisses across her cheek and jaw before settling on her neck. The hand on Y/n’s neck pulled back her hair, giving James the access he needed to nip and suck lightly at the sensitive skin just below Y/n’s ear.

“Are you marking me?” She asked, breath hitching. She wasn’t opposing the matter, far from it, really. But she was a bit surprised to have this kind of behavior coming from James.

“Just a bit.” He replied breathlessly, kissing the slightly sore spot before returning to Y/n’s lips. “For a bit of fun, y’know?” Y/n giggled. She was lucky that she could probably hide the soon-to-be mark by keeping her hair down.

“Sure, just a bit of fun.” She replied, pecking James’ lips a few times.

The two were able to get themselves straightened out just before the rest of the girls found them. They closed the door behind them, and James caught them all up on the plan.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Michelle sighed as she and the rest of the group broke apart the scones and dropped the crumbled bits into the toilet. “It’s fuckin’ heartbreaking.”

“Believe me, Michelle, it’s better this way,” Y/n said, grabbing another laced scone. “Granda’s had one, and now he’s acting, like, really fuckin’ weird.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“He was nice to Daddy.” The group made noises of shock and disbelief. “Exactly. And if Mammy starts asking questions…”

“You’re Ma won’t trace it back to us.”

“Are you serious?” Erin asked Michelle. “She traces everything back to us. She traces things we haven’t even done back to us!”

“Are you sure this’ll work?” Clare asked James.

“This is how you get rid of drugs, Clare.” He said confidently, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s had to do this. “I’ve seen Goodfellas, like, twenty times.”

“Aye, good movie,” Y/n commented as she brushed her hands on her jeans to get rid of the crumbs that stuck to her nervously sweaty palms. 

“That’s not the only way.” Orla countered. “I watched this film once about this girl who was tryin’ to hide drugs, and what she did was she shoved them right up her—”

“I’m not sticking a scone up my hole, Orla.” Michelle hissed. Orla shrugged, raising her hands in defense.

Once everyone was done breaking down the scones, Clare sighed, seeming as nervous and panicked as always.

“Okay, I’m gonna flush.” She did so, and everyone watched as not much happened. “Is it working?”

“‘Course it’s working,” James said, still sure of his plan.

But then the water started to rise, and everyone started to panic.

“Jesus Christ!” Erin yelped in a high-pitched voice. “Why is the water rising, James?”

“I don’t know! The water didn’t rise in Goodfellas!”

“We’ve clogged it.”

“Who has a plunger?” Orla asked, seeming to be the most calm of the group.

“I’m afraid I left the house without me plunger tonight, Orla,” Erin replied, clearly sarcastic. 

“Aye, me too,” Orla replied seriously. “Nightmare, so it is.”

The toilet started flooding faster, and the girls scrambled around in a panic. Scone water was beginning to spill onto the floor, and everyone had to stop themselves from gagging as they tried to find a way to clean it up. This situation couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Dear God…” Everyone whipped around to see the adults of the Quinn and McCool families, plus Bridie’s son, Eamon. Erin laughed nervously, deciding to be the one to find an excuse.

“It looks worse than it is.” Was all she said, which really wasn’t much of an excuse.

“My mother was right about you people,” Eamon said, horrified and angry. “Wild animals have more manners.”

“We didn’t have a plunger, Eamon!” Orla shouted.

“Get out!” He yelled. “Get out!”

The teens did so gladly, running out of the bathroom and out of the house. They gathered on the front lawn, and they couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the evening. But they still feared what would happen when Mary walked out.

“The night wasn’t all that bad, I think,” James said quietly, only Y/n being able to hear him. She looked up at him curiously.

“How so?”

Instead of speaking, he raised his hand to cup her neck, gently tapping where he had bruised her. She gasped, pushing his hand away before the two of them fell into laughter, not caring about the confused looks their friends gave them.

“I’ll see you Monday, then?” He asked when they had calmed down a bit. Y/n caught a glimpse of her mother leaving the house before she answered.

“If I live that long.”

~~~

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#agaypanic #james maguire x reader #james maguire #derry girls x reader #derry girls

[pawnshopbleus]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a corio x plinth reader where he aproches her bc she is a plinth (and she notices and gets mad bc she think that corio takes her for a stupid girl who would just fall for his lies) but he slowly falls for her. i would really like if it ends well, like them together. i hope you understood my idea, i love your work btw.

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

coriolanus snow x fem!plinth!reader

summary - basically what the request says, but there is no happy ending because i'm evil.

contains - angst, the capital being described as beautiful, gold-digging, rude coriolanus, not beta read

author's note - i'm so sorry @simpovereveryone for the unhappy ending, but i feel like once someone finds out you originally wanted to date them for their money there is no coming back. originally, this was going to be a happy ending, but I just couldn't write one that felt natural and real. if you want, I can do a happy Coriolanus later, but there is no happy ending in this one.

IT was no secret that Strabo Plinth’s daughter was in love. It was the only thing people would talk about at the Academy. In between each Hunger Games, Capitol citizens were bored. Gossip would spread like a wildfire. They didn’t know how to keep a secret. 

Coriolanus knew that you liked him. It was obvious to anyone that had two working eyes. The way that your eyes would follow him wherever he went, and how your back would straighten every time he walked by was evidence enough that you had a crush on the blonde boy. 

Coriolanus was flattered, really, but he just wasn’t one to date. Many girls have tried and failed at dating him. None piqued his interest. He found that most pretty Capiol girls were dumb and had no interest beyond their physical appearance. They also lacked what he needed most, money. 

Coriolanus wanted to continue his education at the University after the Academy. He needed to keep a roof over his, Tigris, and Grandma’ams head, or he would have failed as a cousin and a grandson. Those necessities don’t come cheap after a war, no matter how long ago the war was. 

And then he heard the news. Some new students were chatting during lunch. His name and yours got thrown around, and after some intense staring at his apple, he heard what they were talking about. Your little schoolgirl crush on Coriolanus, and that was confirmation enough. 

Then there you were, sitting in all your glory. 

Being the one and only daughter in the Plinth family made you susceptible to fake people. Always after your money and status, but they will talk about you behind your back. Coriolanus has heard it all. He needed to outsmart the many and study the few that made it to your inner circle. Just because you already had a crush on him meant nothing if he didn’t have a good enough reason to chase after you. 

Your red school uniform mixed in with the rest of the crowd, but your face was what drew him in. It was so different, unconventional, and beautiful. The unconventionality of your face made him want to paint a picture of you from memory. You were unique, which he liked. This won’t be too bad, Coriolanus said in his head. 

Your tired eyes met his and he didn’t look away. The bags under your eyes accentuated the fact that you couldn’t sleep last night. The thunder crashing outside of your window was probable cause to keep you awake. 

Coriolanus got up from his chair and stocked towards you. His stride was purposeful, guiding through clumps of students gathered around the room. He sat across from you and said nothing as he studied your tired expression. It was weird that your brother's friend and your crush were sitting across from you all of a sudden. You were in no way ready to talk to him right now. 

“Did you want me to tell Sejanus something?” was all you could manage to ask. Your brain was begging you to ask more. Why are you here? How is your family? Do you think I’m crazy for liking you, even though we’ve never had an actual conversation? But your mouth stayed shut, which saved you from a boatload of embarrassment. 

Coriolanus smiled. His teeth were imperfectly imperfect. A natural color, not too white, but not too yellow. His right front tooth was slightly crooked, giving his teeth personality. 

“No, I came here to talk to you.”

Your brows furrowed for a second. Why in the world would he want to talk to me? Besides being the sister of his friend, you had nothing going on for yourself. There were far prettier girls that he could talk to. You weren’t all that traversed in philosophy and classic books like he was. You were just…you. 

Your lips pressed together in a small line and then returned to normal after a second. You couldn’t form coherent words right now. You nodded your head at the boy in front of you and looked across the room, not ready to make eye contact with him at the present moment. Students talked and whispered with each other as they took in the scene. Coriolanus Snow talking to the girl that had a crush on him. Many girls who had tried to date him in the past narrowed their eyes at you. 

You had not noticed that the room was almost silent, save for the whispers of the nosey students. Coriolanus kept repeating your name, trying to break you out of your trance. You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. An unlimited amount of syllables were repeated over and over again in his baritenor voice. 

“What?” you ask as you are broken out of your trance. 

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” he answered your question with another. 

This seemed too good to be true. The boy you’ve had a crush on for years had just asked you out for seemingly no reason. Either whatever higher power in the sky was on your side, or this was one huge prank. Either way, you agreed. 

˖ ࣪ . 🦢 ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

You stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of your room. The baby pink silk slip dress you were wearing used to belong to your mother. She had given it to you two years ago in hopes that you would wear it. She hoped that you would wear it on a date with a nice boy. That’s exactly what you were doing, but there were two problems. The first problem was that you were nothing like your brother, outgoing and outspoken. You preferred to keep to yourself, and if you had to socialize, you would do it with the handful of friends you had. The second problem was that it was two years later. The dress no longer draped beautifully around you like it did when you were younger. It clung to every curve, crevice, and roll you had on your body. You were lucky that the dress still zipped up. You studied yourself in the mirror, going from the tip top of your head down to your painted toenails. At least it looked like you had enough money to be well-fed and groomed. 

Coriolanus was taking you to a new rooftop restaurant. The women in your mother's book club raved on and on about how elegant and regal the vibes in that restaurant felt. They also recounted how hard it is to get a reservation. For a new restaurant, it seemed pretty picky with its patrons. 

He picked you up around six. The sun had already set and a chill breeze kissed your skin, causing goosebumps to rise on the bare skin of your arms. Coriolanus kept you close to him, placing a strong hand on the small of your back. His hand was cold, causing you to shiver. 

The reviews were right. The restaurant was beautiful. The entire place was lit using nothing but candles. They lined the tables with pristine white cloth. There were other details of the restaurant that were otherworldly, but the view of the Capital made you swoon. With Coriolanus long forgotten, your eyes lit up at all the lights and such that outlined every building and street. You had forgotten how beautiful the Capital was at night. Your heart panged with gratefulness at being able to experience this even though you weren’t born here. 

Coriolanus studied you once again. The city lights flashed and shone across your body, accentuating the way your skin looked. It looked soft, almost perfect. Nothing was ever perfect. 

“So, Sejanus told me you like to paint,” Coriolanus commented, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

Your eyes broke away from the shining lights and back to the companion in front of you. “Yes,” you simply said. 

The simplicity of your words made Coriolanus fix his hand into a fist under the table. He was doing you a favor! You were the one who had a crush on him, not the other way around. He couldn’t say anything, though. He had to remind himself why he was doing this. Flashes of images passed through his mind. They all had one thing in common; they were dear to him - the only things he loved. That was the reason why he was here. He needed the money that was attached to you. 

“What do you like to paint?” The food that he ordered for the two of you was being placed down on the table. He ordered steak and potatoes with a side of steamed vegetables.

You are a vegetarian. 

Everyone knew you were vegetarian. You loved animals and couldn’t fathom eating a living animal. You didn’t judge people who ate meat. Everyone was free to live the lifestyle they wanted and you choose to live a meatless lifestyle.

“Why did you ask me out on a date?” you questioned the boy in front of you who was currently eating his food like a starved man. Which he was. He barely had enough money to pay rent, let alone pay for this meal…

That’s why he asked you on a date - for your money. You’ve lived your entire life having to question whether or not someone wanted to be your friend. Your last name followed you everywhere you went. There was nothing shameful about your family, but you hated having fake people around you. It was literal hell. 

Of course, Coriolanus didn’t like you. He just needed your money. You scoffed at him and didn’t even let him finish as you sprinted out of the restaurant, leaving him confused and with no way to pay. 

It’s safe to say that Coriolanus is never welcomed back. 

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #angst #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

[kimsohn]

even if the world caves in,

pairing . chanhee x gn! reader (ft. vernon of seventeen) about . 13.5k words, fluff + angst, e2l fake-dating warnings . smoking, alcohol, cursing, suggestive (allusions to sex at the end), descriptive food mentions, y/n and chanhee are idiots chanhee lowkey doesn't deserve y/n, the plot kinda doesn't make sense but fuck it we ball ok, pls lmk if i missed things bc i probably did, also i wrote most of this at ungodly hours of the night and this is not proofread take this as your warning

synopsis . after your big break in cinema, the last thing on your mind is a relationship. unfortunately for you, the public has other plans, forcing you together with the journalist who's entire career is dedicated to your downfall. note . this is my submission for @deoboyznet's secret santa fic exchange! hihi @heemingyu i'm your secret santa!! (i'm so sorry this is like two days late and probably rushed forgive me) i went through like four different plots before settling on this one and writing it in one week 😭 i hope you enjoy!!! also thank you to @juyeonszn for staying up until 6am to beta for me what the fuck. ilysm. tagging . @invuwrld @gfksn @stealanity

Lately, the only thing that seems to greet you is the buzzing sound of your phone, incessant until silenced by your tired fingers.

You reach over as you stir awake, the action almost second nature to you as your hand catches ahold of the sleek object. You hit random buttons until your desired effect comes into play, answering the phone call and putting it on speaker, and you already know who it is before their voice even drifts through the microphone.

“Y/N! Get your ass up, you’re on the headlines.”

“Again?” you whine, rolling over in bed. “Is it good news or bad news this time?”

The man on the other end laughs, bitterly, and you push yourself off the bed in response. Your manager laughing, especially like that, is nothing amusing, and you rub your eyes as you try to get yourself awake.

“Oh, it’s bad, alright. Open your fucking phone, Y/N.”

You do exactly that, immediately thumbing over to Twitter and seeing your name trending. Afraid of which one of your many stupid decisions has made the headlines today, you press the hashtag, cringing at the first picture.

“Of course, they got pictures of me drunk,” you mutter, scrolling through the list. “Wasn’t this Juyeon’s private party, like months ago? How did these photos leak?”

“It doesn’t matter Y/N,” your manager sighs from the other side, and you feel a twinge of guilt for always putting him through this situation, “you’re an actor. Nothing in your life is private anymore, especially you pole dancing on top of the bar.”

Your facial muscles twitch as you come across the aforementioned picture, seeing yourself busting out dance moves on the marble. You have to hold back a laugh, seeing how something so ridiculously insignificant is dragging your name through the mud right now.

“But Vernon, you have to admit, the pictures are kinda hot.”

He grumbles on the other side before he cuts the call, and you fall into bed giggling, scrolling through other pictures. You have a cigarette in one hand and a tequila glass in the other, and that explains why you remember absolutely nothing about that day.

A text notification appears at the top of your screen, and you swipe down to see none other than Vernon who you were on call with five seconds ago. He’s sent you the link to an article followed by a message.

This is the article that leaked the video. Check out the name.

You click on the link, and your face falls at the name of the website. It falls even more when you see the name of the writer, and you press your fingers to your forehead. You immediately call Vernon again, watching the phone ring twice before he picks up.

“Can we fucking blacklist him, Vernon?” you seethe, gripping your phone tightly.

“I’m afraid not. He’s just a journalist, not a stalker.”

“He might as well be with the way he’s always up to date with my private information.”

You punch your pillow, watching your fist pathetically curl into the bedding. It doesn’t have its intended effect, only reminding you of how weak you are physically and mentally. You don’t get into scandals often, probably because you’re a rare, good person in the horrible field that is Hollywood, but whenever you do, you have one journalist to thank for it.

“I told you, nothing is private in your life anymore.”

Vernon goes off on a tangent about how you should’ve been more careful, how you shouldn’t have drunk your ass off, but you can’t find it within you to care. There was technically nothing wrong with what you did (except for maybe the indecency, but it’s a bar for fuck’s sake), but as a famous actor with a huge fanbase, you understand why your manager is angry. Dancing on top of a counter and smoking should not be the kind of precedent you set for your fans, especially the younger ones, and your actions have a lot more weight to them now that you’re in the public eye.

It’s just stupid because you’re a regular person. At the very least, you deserve to have some privacy regarding decisions you make, especially ones that are so insignificant. 

“Vernon,” you interrupt, “it’s okay. My movie is coming out later this week, so I think it’ll die down quickly.”

“I know, but you’re lucky that this was a trivial issue. If you get caught in something truly fucked up, another movie won’t be able to save you.”

“I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

He hangs up, reminding you that you have a screening to attend later today and an interview. Your eyes drift back to the article again, reading the headline.

Hollywood’s favorite celebrity turned dancer.

You shut your eyes, breathing in and out so you don’t lose your composure. The universe is lucky you’re a rational, decent human being because if you weren’t, the writer who’s been practically harassing you would’ve been long eliminated by now.

Choi Chanhee, you read, familiar with the name. The infamous writer that’s always on your tail. It’s as if he dedicates his whole life to ruining you because he’s always the first to write things that make your crown slip. Almost all of your scandals, from particularly stupid ones at the beginning of your career to your most recent one, have been written by him. He’s practically obsessed with you at this point, and you don’t know what it is about you that ticks him off.

You toss your phone to the side, trudging over to the bathroom to get ready. Unlike Chanhee, you don’t have the time or patience to worry about trivial things like gossip pages. Choi Chanhee is just one, minor obstacle in your way. Just someone insignificant.

A long time ago, the flashing lights of cameras would’ve blinded you. Now, as a seasoned actor, you’re quite immune to the brightness that surrounds you when you walk the red carpet. You smile and pose, reveling in the cameras and the interviews that follow, asking for details about your current movie and the process behind the scenes.

You’ve just finished off an interview about the movie’s wardrobe when a black-haired man comes up to you. The lens of his thick glasses shines against the cameras in the background, and you have to look down to avoid the glare from the reflection.

You read his name tag and your face drops. You immediately look up, putting on a forced grin.

“Choi Chanhee. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He smiles, and the corners of his mouth curl as if he knows of your extensive distaste for him.

“It seems you know who I am already. Let’s get started with the interview then. First question: do you have anything to say regarding your latest scandal at the bar?”

You’re gritting through your teeth as you answer.

“No comment. Next question, please.”

“What are your opinions on the latest controversy surrounding Lee and Co., the production company behind your movie?”

He fires off a few questions, all as controversial as the last, and the only thing that keeps you from slapping him right there and then is your media training that Vernon had drilled into you while in the car.

“He will be there,” Vernon had said, fixing your watch, “don’t give him anything to work with. Just focus on promoting your movie.”

You’ve followed his advice for the solid ten minutes Chanhee has bombarded you, but even your patience is wearing thin. You’re tired of being asked about the same scandals repeatedly from different angles, and you have to admit that even if he’s doing an amazing job as a journalist, it’s not looking good for your conscience.

“Chanhee,” you interrupt, watching him pause in the middle of a question, “do you have any substantial questions about the movie, or are we done here?”

His face contorts as if he had just been thrown tomatoes at, and the devil in your brain beams from his expression. He flips through his notes, flicking through a couple of pages before landing on one that’s up to his liking.

“Okay, one last question then. Who was your favorite person to work with during this movie?”

You pause, mulling over the question. You watch as his eyes traverse his notes, and you wonder what trick he has up his sleeve. You guess that he will probably bring up something about the person who’s name you’ll recite, so you think carefully before answering.

“I don’t have one particular favorite. I love them all,” you answer honestly and safely, with no room for scrutiny.

He nods, shutting off the recorder before packing his bag and giving you a slight bow. The narcissist in your brain revels in how good he looks bowing down to you, but you pay your respects in return.

“Thank you for your time, Y/N.”

You watch as he saunters off, probably off to his crew, and you blink a few times before shifting your attention to the next reporter with an eager smile.

Hours later, you find yourself outside, exchanging the chaos inside for a fresh breath of air. Your director has indulged in an after-party, one you’re grateful for too, but after a couple of glasses of wine and many more hours of talking to fellow celebrities, you need a moment of solitude.

 The air outside is crisp and cool, and you find yourself wishing you’d brought your jacket out to accompany you. Your vision is slightly blurry and your stance is wobbly, but you find a bench nearby to take a seat at. You stare at the pond across from you for a while, throwing rocks into the water and watching how far they travel.

A cigarette accompanies you, and the puffs of air you release are visual representations of how relaxed you want to feel. You’ve just released a movie, and you should be thankful, but as an actor, your mind never rests due to the endless possibilities you can ponder over. Moments like these where you find yourself completely alone, with nothing to worry about, are rare, and you try to curb your mind from ruining the moment by overthinking.

However, your moment of peace is interrupted by a loud shutter behind you, and you quickly turn around, afraid of what the paparazzi would say if they caught you like this. A figure disappears around the corner, but as you hear the clacking of their footsteps, you know exactly who it must be.

“Chanhee, I know it’s you.”

Moments pass before he steps out from behind the wall, holding a camera in his hands. The object, in contrast to the suit he wears, is so uncoordinated that you burst into a fit of laughter, over-emotional from the wine you had earlier.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks cautiously, treading the waters.

“I didn’t know you were a photographer too! You’re an all-rounder for sure.”

“Look,” he whispers as if his guilt will excuse his actions, “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” You pat the empty space next to you. “Here, sit next to me.”

He takes a seat warily, as if you have a gun in your hands, but relaxes once he sees you dangling your feet. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be sitting next to you, heck, even interacting with you, but you don’t seem to really mind as you throw another rock into the water.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask, staring at him with glossy eyes. “What did I do that was so wrong?”

“Are you drunk?” he asks instead, realizing this isn’t the pristine condition he saw you in a couple of hours ago.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sniffle. “What did I do to make you absolutely despise me?”

Chanhee sighs, staring at the ripples in the pond. He picks up a rock, swinging it as far as he can before it settles to the bottom of the pool. It goes way farther than any of the rocks you’d thrown before, and you pout miserably as you cease your ministrations.

“It’s my job. I get paid for writing about your downfall.”

“But… you don’t have to be so mean about it.”

Chanhee recognizes that he won’t get anywhere with this argument because you’re drunk, so instead, he turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders so you look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I won’t even post the pictures that I took today.”

He deletes the pictures from his camera, showing you after it’s done, and you surprise him by throwing your arms around him. You’re too far gone to realize the weight of your actions, but he isn’t, so he tries to gently pry them off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” you whisper after he’s done, slumping across the bench half-asleep, “thank you for being nice. For once.”

He blinks once, twice, before he exhales, turning around on his heel and disappearing into the darkness. Later, when Vernon picks you up from the bench, you tell him that a pretty fairy saved you from disaster. He won’t believe you, but you know it’s true in your heart.

You’re nursing your hangover when you decide to turn on the news. You settle into your comfortable couch, holding a bowl of hangover soup and trying not to succumb to the pain radiating throughout your forehead.

Not often do you watch the news, choosing to opt out because it’s usually annoying and gives you a headache, but Vernon’s somehow using two devices to watch his show on Netflix so you’re forced to resort to this. You think you might die if you don’t distract yourself from the migraine that’s been occupying your senses, so the news will have to suffice.

You flick through the channels, not interested in the politics or the weather, but your fingers pause when a bright pink headline catches your eye. It’s the gossip channel, and this is usually the channel you’re warned to stay far away from, but you can’t help but watch the video playing when the headline specifically features your name.

Y/N caught in a secret relationship, embracing a secret lover by the pond.

Your mood turns sour when the clip features events from last night, ones that are still fuzzy in your brain. You didn’t expect to be reliving this situation, but your heart all but drops when you realize the snippet features you and Chanhee in the frame, hugging each other as if you had indeed been lovers. The worst part is that Chanhee didn’t even reciprocate, but that isn’t featured in the headline, so it truly does look like you two have a thing for each other.

This time around, you call Vernon first instead of the usual.

“Y/N,” he whispers groggily as if you had woken him up, “what happened?”

“Please turn on the fucking news Vernon.”

You hear shuffling from the other side, a few minutes of rustling before you hear the blaring of the TV and a similar sound drifting through his microphone. You get a few minutes of pin-drop silence before all hell breaks loose.

“Who the fuck is that?!” he exclaims, and you hear his feet angrily pacing around. “Was this last night? I thought I told you to be more careful, to look out for your surroundings—”

“Vernon, it’s Chanhee.”

The only thing you hear from Vernon is his angered breaths, and it takes mere seconds before you burst into tears, fed up by this situation and the terrible migraine you still have. You just want to curl up into a ball and never step foot into the universe again, and your resolve only strengthens when the line goes dead. You can’t help the tears that come to bay, rippling through you like a shockwave that never seems to end.

Insistent knocking at your door a few moments later is the only thing that stops the tears from falling, and you quickly wipe them before opening the door. Vernon stands at the other side, his hands in his pockets and eyebags above his cheeks, but his gaze softens when he sees your puffy eyes and you hugging yourself.

He brings you into his embrace, your tears staining his hoodie, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. Vernon just caresses your back, knowing the only thing you need right now is a gesture of comfort, and you burrow into his chest further. Right here, in the middle of your entryway, Vernon provides you with the best version of reassurance he can offer: a simple, caring hug.

“I was drunk,” you mutter when you’ve calmed down, speaking through the sniffles that escape you, “and we were just talking. You know I get touchy when I’m tipsy.”

“I figured,” he says, unraveling himself from your embrace. “Does the press know it’s him?”

“No, but I expect they’ll find out soon enough.”

You follow him as he takes a seat on the couch, watching the headlines on the TV. The gossip channel has long moved on from your news, but you haven’t, and fear of what will happen to either you or Chanhee is killing you.

“We need to contact him before then,” he voices, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “I think I know someone from his office.”

“Wait, why?” you ask, trying to peer over at his phone, watching him scroll through his contacts. “Wouldn’t it just be best to let the rumors die down?”

“If this was a celebrity, we could’ve done that. But Chanhee is a regular human being, and this could potentially destroy his career.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” you murmur under your breath, watching Vernon deadpan.

“Look, I know you hate him, but he doesn’t deserve to be criticized for something he didn’t even do. Let’s just talk to him and see what he has to say, okay?”

You nod, falling back on the couch. The migraine still bothers you, and you rub your fingers across your forehead to massage it.

Five days ago, you would never have expected to be in this position. To you, Chanhee was just a name on a screen, a faceless figure haunting your dreams. How fitting is it that his very first encounter with you led to your worst nightmare?

You hear Vernon dial his contact, watching the phone ring several times before a line picks up. Vernon speaks gratefully, grabbing the pen and paper that you have lying around on your coffee table as he scribbles down some information.

“We have a meeting,” he says, showing you the piece of paper, “in five hours. Be ready by then.”

Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?

The bright lights and white walls in the meeting room make it look like a prison cell, and the atmosphere does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. You’re tapping your foot anxiously, sitting in an unfamiliar space in an unfamiliar building, but Chanhee requested a meeting in his office building, and you have no other choice but to go with it.

You’d be lying if you said you were nonchalant about the whole atmosphere, but you try to keep yourself composed as you wait for him to enter. Vernon sits beside you, going through some papers in his briefcase that only a manager would know about, and his presence is the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

“Just let me do the talking, okay?” he’d said before entering, “The last thing we need is another argument on our hands.”

Even though the comment offended you, you honestly would be better off trusting his judgment. You and Chanhee don’t exactly have the best track record, and if either one of you says something even slightly off, the room would probably explode into insults. You honestly don’t even have the strength anyway to hold up a fight, so you slump into your chair, adjusting your jacket and reeling in your patience.

The doorknob twists and you and Vernon straighten your postures, trying to look presentable for your audience. Chanhee enters, followed by a blonde-haired who you’d assume to be his boss, and you rise so you can shake their hands. Chanhee ignores your attempt at waving a white flag, choosing to shake Vernon’s instead before sitting down at a seat, but his boss smiles and grabs your palm tightly in his.

“Hello, I’m Sangyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”

You exchange pleasantries as you sit down, and once you get over the initial awkwardness, you shut your mouth and wait for Vernon to speak up.

“So, I’m sure you guys have seen the news and are well aware of why we’re here.”

Sangyeon nods, urging him to continue.

“I understand what you might be feeling right now Chanhee,” Vernon follows, catching Chanhee’s gaze, “and we’re extremely sorry for the trouble that this has caused you. However, I have a proposition that might benefit both parties, if you are interested.”

Chanhee’s silence prompts Vernon’s explanation, and you lean in, curious about what he has to say too. Vernon had offhandedly mentioned that he had a deal to make, but you don’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s about to propose.

“I was thinking we play into the rumors. We can say Y/N and Chanhee met at a press conference and hit it off a couple of weeks ago. After we plan a few more appearances, we can stage a public breakup in a few weeks so that everything can go back to normal.”

You blanch, ready to refuse the idea, but Chanhee beats you to it.

“Why would I agree to a relationship with Y/N?”

“Hey,” you start, offended by his implications, “what’s wrong with dating me?”

Chanhee scoffs.

“Don’t even start, Y/N. This is all your fault after all. I didn’t know you liked me that much that you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

You’re seeing blood red, crazed at the malice behind his words.

“I was tipsy! And how was I supposed to know that someone was stalking us? If anything, it was your fault for deleting those pictures and being nice to me.”

The room erupts into chaos as you throw petty insults at each other, similar to a catfight. It takes Vernon holding you back physically to get you to calm down, but even after you’ve calmed down, you’re still staring daggers at him.

“Look, Chanhee, I understand this is not ideal for either of you given the nature of your jobs. But if you think about it, when the press finds out that it’s you in the picture, how will you be able to resume your writing? Who will take you seriously if you write hate articles about the very person that you were caught with?” Vernon asks, trying to reason with him.

Chanhee falls into silence, and he looks at his manager. His manager offers him a pitiful glance, knowing that Vernon is right.

“You don’t have to be lovey-dovey with each other,” Vernon continues, hoping to ease the terms. “You just have to appear in public for a couple of dates. We can use your old articles to prove that you guys have had romantic tension, so we’ll have background evidence too. When Y/N breaks your heart in a couple of weeks, you’ll have the perfect reason to continue writing hate articles.”

“It’s like enemies to lovers to… enemies, right?” Sangyeon asks, humming after Vernon nods, “I think it’s a good idea Chanhee. You’ll gain a lot more exposure after the whole thing is over too. If we continue going as it is, the press will ruin your career, and I’d have no other choice but to fire you. I think this is the best decision for your future and the company.”

Chanhee sighs, rubbing his temples. As much as you despise him, you can sympathize with the fact that he has a difficult decision looming over his head. The fate of his career rests in your hands, the person he’s dedicated a lifetime to ruining, and you can imagine just how insane his internal conflict might be.

“I’ll do it,” you voice, watching the room’s reactions carefully.

Chanhee’s eyes shoot up at you, clearly not expecting your admission.

“I would hate to be the reason you had to quit something you love. Besides, I’ve been in too many scandals recently anyway; I think a relationship could do my career some good.”

You don’t know if your attempt at a joke resonated with him, but his shoulders relax and he bores his eyes into you. His eyes are sharp and feline-like, but his brown pupils are almost the exact opposite, thoughtful and deep. He’s a little pretty, you realize, when he’s not trying to sabotage your entire career.

You’ve tried to stay level-headed after your argument earlier, as a gesture to Vernon, but you can’t contain your surprise when he nods a few minutes later.

“Okay, I’ll go with your plan. But I want four weeks, not five.”

“Deal,” you say, reaching over with an open palm before Vernon can even say anything.

This time around, Chanhee does reciprocate your gesture, shaking your hand firmly. The white flag flies freely over your heads, and you can only pray that these next four weeks will be over just as quickly as they started.

The news blows up fairly quickly after it’s published, even faster than any of the scandals you’ve been in. After the announcement your companies sent out confirming your relationship, you posted a picture of Chanhee to your Instagram story to show support from your side. Never have you garnered so many notifications in a single day, but you’re not complaining. You suppose your fans have also been waiting for you to get into a serious relationship, seeing that you’ve been single since your acting debut, so the update is received with a mostly positive reaction that you’re thankful for.

However, just the news and a picture alone aren’t going to cut it. Arguably, the hardest part of this whole ordeal is your interactions with Chanhee, making your relationship believable enough so your fans don’t think this is the PR stunt like it really is. Your first order of business is taking Chanhee along on a date tonight to a movie premiere, the first actual public appearance you two will be making.

To say you’re nervous is an understatement. The last time you saw Chanhee, it took Vernon’s presence to stop you from biting his head off. How will you even survive a whole event together, let alone act like a couple?

You tell Chanhee to show up a couple of hours earlier so you can plan out the details, unable to keep your nervousness at bay. You don’t know if Chanhee is as anxious as you, but Vernon always says it’s good to stick to a plan, so calling him over isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.

Actually, it might be a little bit bad.

“Wow,” you say, your throat suddenly parched from seeing his clothing, “you clean up nicely.”

Nice is the simplest you could describe his outfit. He’s wearing a black suit, indented polka dots scattered across the black cloth. Paired with a white shirt underneath and matching tie, along with those round glasses that are definitely growing on you, he looks just like another A-list celebrity in the crowd. Maybe even a model if you would care to admit it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, unbuttoning the jacket to strew it across your couch, “it’s kinda hot in here, no?”

You would agree, but your mind is currently occupied with how delicious he looks in just a simple white shirt and a tie. You have half a mind to tell him that he really should quit his job and become a model instead, but you settle for nodding instead.

“It’s probably because of all the facial stuff we did earlier,” your stylist Kevin says, walking over to place clips in your hair, “it’ll calm down in a little bit.”

Chanhee’s eyes widen when Kevin enters, his eyes staring at you in panic and moving over to Kevin before they travel back to you. You laugh, amused with how seriously he’s playing the part.

“He knows,” you reassure him, “most of my close staff know, so you don’t need to worry.”

Chanhee exhales in relief, his head drooping down into his arms. Kevin meets your gaze before quirking an eyebrow, and you shake your head, not wanting to indulge in his teasing.

“Okay,” Chanhee says after he’s calmed down, leaning into the couch, “what’s the plan?”

“Well, since this is our first time in public together, we can keep it simple,” you start, wincing when Kevin tugs on part of your hair a little too hard, “maybe holding hands, walking next to each other, maybe a hug if we’re up for it.”

Chanhee looks disgusted, and you honestly can’t even disagree with him. You’re not exactly happy about jumping straight into skin-to-skin contact with the guy you hate, but this is the bare minimum for a relationship and you intend to follow through.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you sigh. “You do know that we’re going to have to kiss at some point, right? This is probably the tamest we’ll get.”

“Hey, don’t haunt the poor guy,” Kevin says, pulling out a makeup palette. “Just take it slow, okay? It’ll be a while before you get to that stage.”

You disappear into your bedroom to change after Kevin is done with your styling, and Chanhee visibly relaxes once you’re gone. It’s not like he wants to murder you with every fiber of his being, but something about you puts him on edge, and he can’t tell what it is.

“Are you still stressed about the kissing thing, dude?” Kevin asks while packing up his supplies. “Y/N’s just saying that to scare you, so don’t worry. Besides, after you see them in this outfit, you might change your mind.”

Kevin leaves with a wink, and Chanhee is left to scramble for its implications. You can’t possibly look good enough to kiss, right? He’s seen you countless times, and the only time his resolve ever-so-slightly wavered was when he saw you in person about a week ago. That was because you were drunk, though, of course. Not because he was facing you, flesh to flesh, for the first time in his life.

His overthinking ceases though when you step out of your bedroom, and he can’t stop Kevin’s words from floating through his brain.

You’re beauty personified, he thinks, from the tips of your curled hair to the bottom of your glass footwear. The silver-length outfit you adorn is something to die for, heck, you are someone to die for, and Chanhee can’t even breathe because he just imagined you standing next to him and the room is suddenly very, very hot.

“Ready to go?” you ask, adjusting a couple of rings on your fingers.

Chanhee dumbly nods, now realizing why literally everyone is in love with you, and he stands abruptly. He follows you to the front like a puppy dog before you turn around and start giggling. He doesn’t even register you speaking because suddenly, your giggles aren’t annoying and all of your sounds are like songbirds from heaven.

“You forgot your blazer, silly. Here, I’ll get it.”

While you turn back around, walking to the sofa, Chanhee slaps himself. Gently, of course, because he doesn’t want to ruin his face before the red carpet, but just enough to remind himself of his position in this whole scheme. You’re a celebrity, obviously you look good, and he can’t lose his morals just because you look stunning after being dolled up.

You’re a celebrity and he’s a journalist. A journalist who gets paid to antagonize you. Realistically speaking, even just meeting you should have him seeing red. He should not of all things, be pretending to date you, and he definitely should not be reconsidering his life decisions after spending two hours with you.

He just has to get through these four weeks. You’ll be out of sight, out of mind before he even knows it.

“When the cameras start flashing, just look forward. Don’t ever look at them straight in the eye, otherwise, you’ll feel dizzy.”

Chanhee grumbles as you continue rambling, but you can’t find it within you to stop. You’ve never had a public relationship like this, especially with someone who’s not a celebrity, so the desire for perfection is getting to you.

Any small thing could fuck this up and not only ruin Chanhee’s career but yours too. What would the public think if they found out you were lying about a relationship? Heck, you wouldn’t be able to trust your own self after that, let alone the public.

“Y/N, it’ll be okay. It’s just handholding and a hug, right?”

“Yeah, but we need to look like we’re in love,” you huff, your head drooping as you play with your fingers in your lap.

You feel a hand cup the side of your chin, bringing you up to Chanhee’s gaze.

“Look at me,” he starts, thumbing your cheek, “we’ll be fine. Just stare into my eyes like this, and no one will ever doubt us.”

You don’t get to tell him that you might be believing it too with the way you can’t stop gazing at the twinkle in his eyes and the fondness in how they crease. You’ve met many gorgeous celebrities in your life, but not once have you ever felt your heart beat so heavily until this moment.

“We’re here,” Vernon interrupts from the front seat, breaking your intense gaze, “get ready.”

The flashing blinds you as soon as the car door opens, but you’re immune to the glares at this point. Chanhee, however, is not, so your only focus is being by his side until you walk inside the venue. You exit first, waiting until he steps out beside you before interlacing your fingers together and offering him a chaste smile, hoping it’ll calm his nerves.

He grips your hand tighter as you walk, and you both ignore the press shouting from around you. The screams seem extra prevalent today due to his presence, and you hope he isn’t feeling bombarded by the chaos around him. You focus on Chanhee, watching as he stares back at you to ground himself. You walk quickly in unison with him, counting your steps and smiling for the camera as you finally step inside the entryway.

“Are you okay?” you ask after you’re situated, having a few minutes of peace before you’re off to star on the red carpet. “I know that must’ve been a lot.”

“It’s fine. It’s over now. It was chaotic, but it helped to just focus on you.”

A twinge of heat flutters across your cheeks, but you pay no attention to it.

“I’m glad. Don’t worry, we don’t have any more red carpets in our schedule.”

He unlaces his fingers from yours, something you’d completely forgotten about, but you don’t have time to mull over the loss of his warmth before Vernon pushes you to the red carpet to get ready for the pictures. You take deep breaths, reveling in the mere seconds you get before the flashing starts again and you are simply an object for the camera. You pose, striking a big grin for the camera and remembering your media training. This is what you do best, being a celebrity, and suddenly you find comfort in this familiarity after all the turmoil you’ve been through the past couple of days. No Chanhee, no relationship, no headlines, just you and the camera like always.

However, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering when you get a break, watching Chanhee converse with Vernon. You let your daydreams drift, wondering how he would look like posing next to you for the camera, how he would laugh and answer questions about your relationship so giddily, or even how he’d stare into your soul like earlier before, bearing his heart for the taking.

You know that he won’t even meet your gaze after the four weeks are over, but you let yourself indulge in your imagination anyway. You’ve been touch-starved for so long, so it’s only natural that you have these thoughts about affection, right?

You walk back to Chanhee after you’re done, joining him and Vernon as you travel the venue. The place looks spectacular, with intricate chandeliers and a whole buffet of delicacies, and you make it a point in your mind to compliment the mastermind behind this all, Juyeon, when you see him.

Vernon leads you guys over to the food, piling the spring rolls on his plate until you glare at him to stop. Chanhee restrains laughter behind a mouth full of cupcakes, but even you have to agree with Vernon’s eagerness when you take a bite of the macadamia cookies. You’re on your fourth one when Juyeon saunters over to you, his goofy grin ever-so-present on his face.

“Y/N! Long time no see, right? I haven’t talked to you since my party months ago.”

“It’s been too long. I love the venue, by the way. You always outdo yourself.”

“Don’t talk to me about outdoing things. Look at you with your new boyfriend!”

You glance over at Chanhee, who’s busy trying to see how many spring rolls Vernon can fit in his mouth. You grimace, turning back to Juyeon. You know Vernon’s your manager, but sometimes it feels like you have to keep him on a leash instead of the other way around.

“Yeah it’s… a recent development, but I’m happy.”

“I’m surprised you got into a relationship in the first place. After you rejected me, I kinda thought you weren’t looking for love.”

Juyeon clutches his chest in fake agony, and you roll your eyes. Juyeon asked you out years ago when he was the director of your film, and he never fails to bring it up whenever he sees you. You still aren’t looking for love, of course, but your recent news is probably a shock to Juyeon and the many other people you’ve rejected over the years.

“I’m not incapable of love, Juyeon,” you sigh, looking back at Chanhee again, “I just needed to find the right person.”

The word love has never meant anything special to you, but when you look at Chanhee, you feel your heartstrings pull at your chest. Finally having a boyfriend, even if he’s fake, means you have the ability to love and be loved, and maybe you’ve been denying yourself happiness far too long for the wrong reasons.

As you wave Juyeon goodbye, sauntering over to Chanhee, you walk with a change in mindset. The situation you’re stuck in isn’t perfect, but you decide that it’s best to make the most out of it.

“Y/N, watch out!”

Suddenly, your whole world turns upside down, and you brace yourself as you fall backward, watching the twinkling of the chandeliers above you. You shut your eyes as a reflex, expecting the hardness of the wooden floor beneath you, but instead, you feel a strong hand supporting your back. You open your eyes to see Chanhee, but as his orbs bore into yours, all words tie on the tip of your tongue.

This close to him, you can see his faint eyeliner, the slight curve of his nose, and the barely visible mole on his top lips. It feels like the world is spinning still, but as Chanhee breathes, exhaling a soft puff of air, your gaze remains grounded only on him as he cradles you gently.

The sound of a camera startles you both, and Chanhee pulls you up, staring at Vernon. You smooth down your clothing, clearing your throat as you eye the culprit.

“What was that for?” you ask, throat slightly parched by what happened mere seconds ago.

“Whatever practice you guys did together before coming here definitely worked, because this picture definitely looks like you’re in love. I’m gonna leak it to a local magazine, so good job for today’s work.”

Your cheeks burn as he shows you the picture, and your gaze flits over to Chanhee. His expression is indiscernible, and you have the sudden urge to know exactly what’s running through his mind. Was he just as affected as you, or was this just a mere act of kindness?

The rational part of your brain hopes it’s the latter, but the heaviness of your heart might have different aspirations.

Your phone dings as you finish applying the last bits of your mascara, and you pad over to your couch, seeing Chanhee’s text message on the top of your screen.

Be there in five.

It’s been a week since Juyeon’s movie premiere, a week since your heart has practically gone haywire. You’re a celebrity, if anything, you’re the last person to be looking forward to a text, but you found yourself checking Chanhee’s chat every morning and being disappointed when nothing rolled in. Even when Vernon’s picture leaked and the internet blew up over your coupling, his message bar still remained dry and lifeless.

He didn’t have any reason to text you anyway, so you wonder why you always looked forward to one.

You were the one to reach out first, letting him know that you had a date scheduled for Saturday night according to Vernon’s schedule. A meeting once per week was mandatory, just to keep up the image, and today’s plan was a nice, fancy dinner at a restaurant.

Chanhee, like a true gentleman, offered to pick you up instantly after you’d sent him the message, and you let yourself feel elated for five seconds before you texted him the time and place. You don’t know why Chanhee reduces you to a middle school girl longing for her crush, but you suppose it’s just because you haven’t been on a proper date in so long.

You’re dressed in blue satin, a dress you’d had no real reason to wear until today, and you’ve tried your best to clean up without Kevin’s help. You send a quick picture to your stylist as you wait, asking for advice even though you know you always look good, but Kevin just sends you a string of heart emojis in return and tells you that you look perfect.

Three sharp knocks on the door indicate Chanhee’s presence, and you open the door. The words on your throat die down when you realize he’s wearing a similar blue satin to yours, and it only takes one flicker of your eyes to meet his for him to start laughing.

“Are you stalking me or something?” he teases, pulling out a bouquet of fresh flowers.

“What’s this for?” you ask, setting them on the vase inside.

“Vernon told me to. He said you always like getting flowers on a date.”

You haven’t been on a date in years, so you don’t know where Vernon got this information from, but you appreciate the gesture nonetheless. The arrangement of peonies, lilies, and daffodils looks stunning on the countertop, and you post a quick picture to your Instagram story before heading out with Chanhee.

“Do you want the aux?” he asks when you’ve situated yourselves in his car.

The wind blows freely as he drives, the night sky twinkling through Chanhee’s open convertible. The rich red color of his Toyota Solara stands out against the deepness of the blackness around you two, but you can only focus on Chanhee’s side profile and the glittering earrings he’s wearing. Up until this point, you’ve only ever been in spaces you were familiar with. Seeing Chanhee in his own car is a completely different atmosphere for you, and you’re not sure how it makes you feel.

“I’m good. Play whatever you like,” you reply, truly interested to see what type of music he listens to.

Paris in the Rain drifts through the speakers, and you have to fight back a smile at the tune. Of course he would play this song on a night drive, judging by its mellow atmospheric feel, but you’re not mad about it.

“Why did you choose this restaurant?” he continues after the song settles, looking over at you when he pulls to a stop in front of a red light.

You have to recenter your thoughts to answer him, bringing your vision back from how ethereal he looks against the red tones of the stoplight.

“It’s been on my list for a while,” you admit honestly. “It’s also not super high scale, so someone will definitely notice us being there.”

Chanhee nods before quieting down as the red light fades into green. You’ve noticed that Chanhee tends to sit in silence when he’s with you, not interacting as much as he had with Vernon at the premiere. You wonder if he’s just naturally silent and hit it off with Vernon or maybe if he’s just hates you.

“Are you always this quiet?” you voice when he slows down due to traffic, not wanting him to feel alienated by the question.

“Ah, not really,” he says, scratching his head, “I just didn’t know if you were comfortable with me talking since we’re technically just coworkers.”

“Oh,” you voice, not expecting his admission.

You didn’t foresee him being so considerate of your feelings, enough to stop talking completely, and the thought warms your heart. Maybe he’s not such a bad person after all, you think, staring at him expectantly.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have admitted that,” he expresses. “I can go back to sitting in silence.”

“No!” you exclaim, and he looks over at you with slight alarm, “I mean, it’s fine. You talking is fine. You don’t need to restrict yourself from speaking just because we’re in a work setting. I don’t mind you talking.”

His shoulders relax as he steps on the gas, maneuvering through the gaps of the traffic that’s slowly clearing.

“That’s good,” he mutters, flicking on his blinker, “cause otherwise, this would’ve been a very awkward dinner date.”

You fight back a smile as he pulls up to the restaurant, and you don’t even have a chance to open your own door before he’s unlocking it for you. You thank him politely before walking inside, side by side with Chanhee. You follow the receptionist to your table once she gets your section cleared, and you’re offered complimentary chips and salsa as you wait for your food to arrive.

“You said this place was not ‘super high scale’?” Chanhee questions, looking around at the décor.

Okay, so maybe it is a little bit classy. The mediterranean themed restaurant has a cozy interior, and you’re currently sitting on wicker chairs by a huge glass window. The setting feels very exposed, as if you truly are sitting outside with the stars hanging over your heads. Subtle things about the place remind you that it’s elegant, such as the intricate menus and the tons of cutlery that sits next to you, but you hoped that it was something more comfortable for Chanhee to acclimate to.

“Why, is it too much?” you ask, picking up a chip.

“It’s not, but this is definitely fancy in my world.”

You smile, watching Chanhee be starstruck by his surroundings.

“Just because I’m famous now doesn’t mean I always was,” you start, “before I got my big break, my version of fancy was a dine-in restaurant.”

He laughs, relaxing a little.

“I didn’t know we were so similar. I just always assumed you were a nepo baby or something like that.”

“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I’m privileged. I worked hard to get here, you know.”

Chanhee nods as your waiter brings out your food, and the two of you immediately dig in. The appealing smells make your stomach hungrier than usual, and it takes a good few minutes for you to settle your appetite before you start conversing with Chanhee.

Now that the awkwardness is gone and that you have a simple understanding of each other, talking with him is easy. Putting aside all the hatred that’s spewed up these past few months, you find out that Chanhee is actually an amiable person, someone you could’ve seen yourself being friends with if you two weren’t so different. He shares stories about growing up and his family in exchange for yours, and you have to clutch your stomach in laughter when he slips in a joke that matches your taste exactly.

Being with Chanhee is natural, so much that you wish you had met him under different circumstances. In addition to being a friendly person, he’s also a gentleman, from the way he slips his card under the menu without you noticing (you definitely scolded him for it later) and opens the car door whenever you get in and out. As he walks you up to your apartment, you thank him honestly for tonight, regretting that your time together is already over for the day.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers suddenly when you’re outside your door. “I’ve written so much shit about you without being an honest judge of your character.”

“It’s okay, Chanhee. This is what you do for a living, I get it.”

“No, you deserve an apology. You’re an amazing actor and an even better human being. You didn’t deserve a single word I wrote about you.”

You’re not tipsy this time around, but you pull him into a hug anyway. This time, you actually mean it though, and you try to disregard the loss of warmth when he pulls away after a few moments.

“Thank you for tonight,” you murmur, stepping into your apartment. “See you next week.”

He smiles, and suddenly, the room is filled with sunshine.

“No, thank you. See you soon.”

You woke up the next morning with a text from Chanhee. The texts have not stopped coming in ever since you responded, as if you’ve opened the floodgates of interaction. You wish he’d texted you sooner, because even though he bombards you with everything in the world from funny memes to just crying about his day, you love returning the same energy.

Where are you rn, a text flies in, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

on set. wbu?

Driving to somewhere special!

oooh spill??

I’ll let you know after I get there

You frown, not so pleased with his secrecy. You hate secrets, and so does Chanhee, so why is he indulging in one right now?

You don’t have time to mull over it as your director calls you back over, ready to continue with the shot. Your costar Younghoon stands before you, smiling as his assistant fixes up his hair before clearing his throat.

“Ready for this scene? It’s a lot,” he comments, reading over the script one more time.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, watching for your director’s call.

The line starts rolling a few seconds later, and you immediately straighten your posture, preparing yourself for the scene.

“Hey,” you whisper, “what was so wrong about what I did?”

He laughs bitterly, pointing to the papers on the desk beside him.

“What was so wrong? You ruined my entire career!”

The papers fly around you as he wipes them off the desk in one sweep, and tears well up in your eyes once you look at his angry gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, clutching onto his arm, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear—”

“You didn’t know?” he asks, although it’s more of a statement, “you’re the editor for the goddamn newspaper! Of course you fucking knew this was going to happen!”

He rips his wrist from your fingers, inching away from you.

“It’s my job to write the news, darling. You have to understand—” you cry, dropping to the ground.

The papers shift around you, and you watch your tears drip onto the headlines.

“We’re done,” he utters, one final phrase before he rips off his ring, throwing it by your feet. “Never speak to me again.”

“And cut!” your director shouts, “good work guys. Take 30.”

Younghoon helps you up from the ground, and you whisper gratitude before brushing off your ankles. The wooden floor was uncomfortable to kneel on, but you’re grateful that it was only for a short period of time.

“Y/N!” you hear from the other end of the room, and you peek over Younghoon’s broad shoulders to see a familiar figure waving.

“Chanhee?” you gasp, walking over to him once he register his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprise?” he replies, giving you the bouqet of flowers he was holding. “I wanted to be a good boyfriend and surprise you on set.”

“Thank you,” you reply, grabbing the flowers from his hands before leaning in closer, “did Vernon put you up to this?”

“Um…” he starts, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, definitely. It’s the middle of the week, so why else would I be here?”

You roll your eyes, leaning back before you reach for his arm, squeezing it tightly.

“Thank you, regardless. No one’s ever visited me on set before like this. Even Vernon.”

“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I thought you would have a lot of people around you like that.”

“I have acquaintances, but they’re all busy too. The most someone’s ever done for me is send me a food truck, and that was from my own mother.”

“Well, I’ll be here from now on, then.”

You feel a pang in your chest, and Chanhee must notice the shift in the atmosphere too because he clears his throat. You both know that this arrangement is already halfway over, so why do Chanhee’s words feel so comfortable, as if you both were in a regular relationship from the very beginning?

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Y/N? Is this the boyfriend?” Younghoon interrupts, walking up from behind with an outstretched arm. “Hey, I’m Younghoon, the costar. Nice to meet you, man.”

Chanhee smiles, plastering a smile to cover his previous frown before taking Younghoon’s hand in his, shaking it firmly.

“Nice to meet you too. Y/N’s been telling me about you, so it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Younghoon laughs, removing his hand from Chanhee’s grip.

“Yeah, it’s surreal working on this movie. It’s kinda funny how Chanhee’s a journalist because Y/N plays one in this movie too.”

Chanhee turns to you, surprised by this new piece of information. You’ve been pretty lowkey about the role, not wanting to tell anyone until the movie wrapped up filming, but Younghoon seems to trust Chanhee with the information because he’s your boyfriend.

“Really? I didn’t know.”

You nod in confirmation, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, we just finished up a heavy argument scene before you arrived. Wanna see the set?”

You and Younghoon parade Chanhee around, introducing him to other actors and cast on the set working diligently. Chanhee is in awe, starstruck by the unfamiliar environment and you can’t really blame him. The movie industry in and of itself is a dream, and witnessing it for the first time is probably exhilarating for him.

After your break wraps up, you lead Chanhee out, standing by the front of the garage. He still has stars in his eyes, and you have to nudge his shoulder twice before he pays attention to you.

“Sorry, I just… I wanted to be a director once, so seeing this all is kind of a dream come true.”

Your eyes widen. Whatever you were expecting to come out of his mouth was not even close to what he just said, and you’re still processing his words when you voice your confusion.

“Yeah, that’s how I learned writing and photography. I used to write screenplays and direct them, but I never made it big like I wanted to. Luckily, Sangyeon took me in when I was struggling, and that’s the only reason I have a job today.”

Suddenly, you know nothing about Chanhee. If events had played out a little differently, Chanhee could be standing right in front of you, not as a fake boyfriend but as a director. You wouldn’t be from two separate worlds anymore, and the thought is killing you.

“Do you still direct?” you ask uncertainly, unsure of what to even say after his confession.

“Nah, not anymore. I help my friends out with short films sometimes, but that’s about it.”

“If you ever want to get back into directing, I can help you out.”

Chanhee looks like his breath has been stolen away, staring at you dumbly.

“I don’t know if I can give you a position directly, but I can definitely link you up with fellow directors of mine and see if there are any film festivals looking for submissions.”

“Thank you,” he mutters hoarsely, “I don’t have an answer for you right now, but what you just said means the world to me.”

Chanhee does the unexpected, wrapping you in a hug this time around. It’s meaningful and tender, and he burrows himself into you as he clutches your shoulders tightly, never wanting to let go. The same shoulders that he once tried to pry your hands off are now encircling you, and you smile against his cheek.

“It’s no problem,” you voice honestly, pulling back to look at him. “I’m always here for you, just remember that.”

You told him the last date would be a little different, but seriously, Chanhee was not expecting a van.

You wave from the front seat, putting aside your phone as he scrambles into the front seat. Chanhee quirks an eyebrow at you, urging you to spill, and you take in a deep breath as you struggle to get the words out.

“So… um, you know how celebrity couples usually have pictures of them making out in their cars, right?”

Chanhee stares at you incredulously, and you grimace, biting your lip.

“I know it sounds bad, but it was Vernon’s idea, I promise! We just need to kiss a couple of times for the pictures, that’s it. It can’t be too bad, right?”

“Y/N,” Chanhee sighs, massaging his temples, “are you crazy? We haven’t even kissed once before this.”

“Well, now is a good time to start, right?” you ask sheepishly, “Look, Vernon paid some guys to photograph us, so they’ll be here any time now. Let’s just get this over with.”

Before he can even blink, you clamber over into his lap, resting your legs on either side of his and holding onto his shoulders. Chanhee gulps, too loudly for the silence that settles between you two, and he’s close enough to you that he can feel your heartbeat thumping wildly.

Good to know that you’re just as affected as him too.

You guide his arms around your waist, securing them tightly before looking back up at Chanhee. The last time he’s ever seen you this close is from when he saved you from falling, and somewhere in the depths of his heart, he admits to himself how much he actually missed it. The fluttering of your lashes, the indents of your mouth, and the sliver of your jawline are all something he wants to commit to memory, to burn into his mind before he loses you.

Chanhee would write a whole article just about your lips if he had to.

“Ready?” you ask, so close that he can feel your breath on his.

He nods, and before he can even lick his lips, you lean in, meeting him halfway with yours.

Chanhee feels like he’s in oblivion, completely succumbing to the darkness that you’ve slowly been feeding him with. You’re like poison, and as he slots his lips against yours, he can’t get enough. You’re killing him with the way you pull him in closer, imperceptibly close as if you two aren’t practically molded together already, and as Chanhee uses one of his arms to tilt your neck, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.

You pull back, catching your breath and your chest heaving, but it takes Chanhee only one glance at your swollen lips before pulling you back in again. He’s addicted to the way your tongue swipes across his entrance, the way you shiver as he gently tugs your bottom lip between your lips, and the way you clutch onto his hair as the two of you exchange life through your kisses.

“Just a couple, baby?” he whispers, pecking down the side of your face, “I can give you a lot more than that.”

He tugs your sleeve down as you whine, tilting your head to give him better access to the area. He nips and sucks at your collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise in spots that you’ll probably scold him for later. He wants them to be deep enough, red enough that you won’t even be able to cover them so the whole world will know you’re his, and he knows it’s well worth it with the way you groan as he keeps going.

“I wish could stay like this forever,” you gasp, preening away when he nips behind your earlobe. “I never want to let you go. My boyfriend. Mine. Forever.”

He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your neck before he stops. You whimper, angry at him for pausing his ministrations, but as he processes your words, the hazy fog he was in moments prior fades away, and all that is left is the consequences of his actions.

“What’s wrong?” you ask when you realize he’s stopped completely.

Chanhee is shaking from underneath you, glassy-eyed, and his fingers tremble as he removes them from your body.

“Boyfriend,” he dumbly repeats, and you nod before realizing the mistake you made.

“Chanhee, I—”

“Get off me. Please.”

You stare at him incredulously, and when he doesn’t make any move to take back his words, you climb off him and into the seat next to you.

“This is all fake. Why do I keep forgetting that?”

He laughs bitterly, watching as your face morphs into a frown. How could he be so careless, to lose himself in you when this is all clearly just an act?

“Chanhee, I know this was planned, but the way I kissed you was definitely not fake.”

You sound hurt, and if he was in a better headspace, he would be calmer with his words, but the weight of what just happened is sinking down on him hard. Suddenly, he needs to leave, to never see you again and to not spend any more time in this stupid, suffocating van. He opens the door, climbing out before shutting it behind him firmly, breathing in heavily as he staggers away from the vehicle.

“Chanhee,” you cry, running up behind him and grabbing onto his wrist, “you don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand!”

“I like you,” you whisper, and suddenly, his whole world shatters.

“Of course you like me,” he laughs, running a hand over his face. “Do you not realize that you have an insane amount of privilege to be saying that? I can’t even like you in return because my career hinges on hating you! Don’t you get it, Y/N?”

You’re full on sobbing now, observing as he wrenches your hand away from his. Your fingers fall limply to your side and all you can do is watch as he walks away, shaking his head.

“Don’t contact me. I never want to see you again. Fuck you, for real, for playing with my feelings.”

You can only stare as the love of your life walks away, leaving your universe in shambles.

Unfortunately, just because you encountered the worst breakup of your life does not mean the world stops moving.

You’re at another after party, one that you’d been looking forward to for months because it would finally mean you’d get to catch up with some of your old costars. However, after the chaos that had befallen you earlier this week, going to some stupid nightclub was the last thing on your mind.

Really, you’re only here because Vernon is sick and tired of you wallowing in your misery. He thinks that you’ll be getting a change of scenery by being here, but the only thing you’ve been getting is shots filled with the strongest alcohol the bar can offer. Your one goal is to successfully forget about the black-haired man that ruined your life, and your plan is effective until the bartender stops you from getting another round and tells you to get some fresh air.

You grumble as you stumble out of the bar, finding a home on the gray sidewalk in front of it. Your sequined outfit digs into your skin as you sit down, but in your drunken stupor, you can’t find it within yourself to care. You’re lucky enough that this is a nicer venue, because there’s no one around to bother you to find another spot. It’s just you and your thoughts, and you can’t tell if that’s more dangerous or not.

Your first order of business is to pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent contacts. You have half a mind to call Vernon, to curse him out from condemning you to the hell that is this place, but instead your finger hovers over a familiar contact.

You are so going to hate yourself when you wake up.

The line rings, once, twice, thrice, and just as you’re about to cut the call, a voice answers from the other side.

“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. I thought I told you not to contact me,” Chanhee whispers groggily.

“Well too bad! You’re the one that said all that shit to me and left, so how unfair is it that I don’t get my turn?”

The line goes silent before Chanhee scoffs, and you can hear the bedsheets rustle around him as he gets up.

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, giggling from how similar this is to when you first met him.

“Where are you right now?”

“Outside a nightclub,” you sing, holding your phone out behind you so he can hear the EDM music from inside a little better.

“Send me your location.”

“Nope! I don’t owe you anything, you piece of shit!”

“Y/N, wait—”

You cut the call, laughing as Chanhee’s name disappears on your screen. He calls again, neverendingly, but you never once pick up, feeling glee from how he’s the one chasing after you now.

You play Candy Crush on your phone until a car screeches beside you, and you scoff as you recognize the familiar red Toyota Solara pulls up beside you. You’ve sobered up by now, but you still hate him just as much.

“Hell no,” you whisper, getting up as Chanhee steps out. You try to run, but the highness of your shoes make it hard for you to run properly, and you stumble as attempt to escape.

“Y/N, look, I’m just going to drop you off at home, okay?”

You stop in your tracks, turning around to see Chanhee behind you with his hands stuffed in his hoodie. You note the eyebags on his face and his chapped lips before speaking to him with a softer tone, grateful that even if he despised you, he didn’t make an attempt to grab onto your wrist and coerce you into something you didn’t want.

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me?” you ask, folding your arms over one another.

“I asked Vernon for your location. If you go missing, he’ll know it was my fault.”

You grumble, staring at him angrily before walking towards his car. He opens the door for you, but you stick your tongue out at him and find a spot in the backseat instead.

The ride is silent, but you feel him watching you through the rearview mirror as he drives. Usually, you don’t mind his silence, but now the stillness is bleak and uncomfortable, just like his presence near you.

“Why did you call me?” he asks, and it takes you a moment to register it because of how intensely you’d been ignoring him.

“I wanted to cuss you out.”

“Okay, so cuss me out then.”

You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“You know what your problem is, Chanhee? You’re self-centered. You think everything is about yourself, even down to our breakup. Who are you to even say things about my privilege when you know damn well how hard I worked to get here? Do you think I’m unaware how my feelings will affect your career? Hell, Chanhee, I literally told you I could help you find another job! I did so much for you to protect you, to support you, all for you to throw it away because you’re scared of the stupid future.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Let me finish. I love you for who you are. Even if we were destined to be opposites, I still found a way to fall in love with you. I was able to love you despite all that you have written about me in the past, so why can’t you love me for the person I am today?”

He pulls up to the front of your apartment, and you clamber out, not wanting to see his face anymore. The rain falls heavily as you step into the lobby, and Chanhee follows suit, shrugging the droplets off his jacket.

“Let me follow you up,” he asks.

You shake your head, but he trails you into the elevator anyway, watching as you press the button for your floor. He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not in the mood, putting up a palm in front of him.

“Save it. I said what I needed to say. I might be drunk but my words are true. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say in return.”

Despite your words, you let him into your apartment anyway, throwing a towel at him so he can dry off. He pats his hair dry, wiping his glasses against the fabric, and suddenly you’re reminded of how devilishly handsome he is. You shake your thoughts off, chalking it down to good taste in men before wiping down your neck.

The thunder booms outside, startling you as your towel falls to the ground. When you pick it up, Chanhee stares at you, an indiscernible expression on his face.

“Thanks for the towel. I better get going.”

He spins on his heel to leave as the storm crackles, and against your better judgement, you call out for him to stop.

“It’s storming outside. You can’t drive in this weather.”

“What are you suggesting?” he asks, turning back around to meet your gaze.

“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Chanhee laughs, as if your idea is so atrocious he can’t even fathom it.

“You’re funny. I’ll just drive home, don’t worry.”

“Chanhee, I’m being serious. I don’t want you to die, for god’s sake.”

Maybe he registered the concern in your voice because he exhales, contemplating in his head if this is a good idea or not. The loud thunderclap outside has him reconsidering, and soon enough, he shakes his head in agreement.

“Alright, but you have to sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Chanhee, I’m not fucking arguing with you. You know what? We can both take the bed if it makes you happy. A pillow between us should work.”

Before Chanhee can even respond, you’re walking into the bedroom, flicking on the light. You grab your pajamas from the closet and change in your bathroom, slipping into the sheets quickly once you’re done. Chanhee follows suit, taking the right side of the bed and placing a pillow between you two for added measure.

“Thank you,” he whispers after a few moments of silence. “I’ll be gone in the morning before you know it.”

“No need,” you grumble, shoving your face into the pillows, “just don’t roll over to my side, okay?”

He hums in agreement, and he watches as your eyes flutter shut.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You’re far too asleep to even respond.

You wake up to the sound of your head pounding in your ears. You grumble, shifting around before you open your eyes, expecting to see empty sheets, but instead you see a man with a very familiar face.

You as the events of last night rush back to you, and you hold yourself back from groaning as you recollect your thoughts. You should’ve just let him leave when he wanted to, but you didn’t, and now you have to deal with his beautiful bare face and his deep morning voice as if you haven’t fallen enough for him already.

You don’t register his eyes fluttering awake until he pokes your side. You shake, startled by his actions, and he tries to hold back a smile.

“Good morning. Sorry I overslept.”

“It’s okay. I won’t be nice enough to let you stay for breakfast though.”

“Wait,” he whispers, clutching onto your arm as you attempt to get out of the bed, “can I say something?”

You nod, and his arms falls back on the bed as he sits up, clearing his throat.

“You were right. I was selfish, and the words I said that day were extremely uncalled for. They were useless too, because if I had just expressed my feelings to you, we wouldn’t have needed to have this conversation now.”

You cock your head, confused at what he’s trying to imply. He takes in a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much that it hurts to breathe when I think of you. I love you so much that I’m willing to quit my career just to be by your side. I was scared then of ending up on the streets like I did in the past, but I was stupid enough to not trust your words when you said you would help me. I didn’t even like that job anyway, so I was an idiot for trying to fight for something I would eventually end up leaving myself.”

“Chanhee, you’re not—”

“No, I am stupid. And selfish. And self-centered. But I am also just Choi Chanhee, the Choi Chanhee who is irrevocably and utterly in love with you, and even though I can imagine a future where I won’t be working for Sangyeon, I cannot imagine a future without you by my side. I know you deserve better, but I’m begging you to just give me one chance to rectify my mistakes. We can take it slow and not rush things like we did in our four weeks. We can go on silly restaurant dates and I’ll practice getting used to the lights at red carpets. I’ll visit you on set every day with flowers and I’ll rent out five billion vans for us to make out in. I’ll do all this and even more because you deserve it, and because I love you. Will you please let me have one chance to make this fake relationship into a real one?”

You’re kissing him before he can even respond, letting him press you against the bed. He kisses you like he’s been starved, inhaling you and memorizing every inch of your presence as if you’ll let go of him again. Like before, you’re not restricted by the millions of voices against you and Chanhee, and as he lets himself go, you follow suit, dragging him down under until you’re writhing against him, begging for more.

“I love you,” he whispers when he kisses down your collarbone, “I love you,” he whispers when your clothes join the ground, “I love you,” he whispers when you shake against his fingers and mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers one last time, cradling you gently as he becomes one with you. “I’ll never let you go. Never again.”

As you lay against him, bare skin to bare skin, you trace the tips of his hair as you smile. You don’t know what the future holds for you two, but there’s one thing you’re certain of as you press another kiss to his mouth.

"I love you. Even if the world caves in, it’ll be you that I lie with. Endlessly, until my last dying breath.”

This time around, you take things slow, not restricted anymore any more by four weeks, four months, not even four years. You have the entirety of your lifetime to spend with him, and you intend on using every single bit of it.

First, however, you let him make it up to you. Just because you bared your soul to him, figuratively and literally, after his apology doesn't mean you've completely forgiven him.

Chanhee doesn't disappoint though, reminding you every single day why he deserved the second chance you gave him. Once upon a time, he called you privileged, and that's exactly what you are now for having such a sweet boyfriend. One that doesn't leave the vase on your countertop empty by gifting you fresh flowers, one that always opens the door for you when he takes you on apology dates, one that sits with you in silence when you want to and one that chatters just as much as you do when you can't shut your mouth.

He visits you on set when he can despite his busy schedule as an assistant director. Surprisingly, you played no part in this, just the source of his determination when he finally decided to give the movie industry a chance again and bagged a job with none other than your close friend Juyeon. He surprises you for late-night drives and lets you have the aux even without you asking for it. He accompanies you to movie premieres despite hating the cameras and if you ever get asked questions that you don't particularly like, he'll glare at the reporters until they shoo away.

And god, the kisses. If the world counted kisses as an apology, Chanhee would be the CEO. Every slot of his lips against yours is like an unwritten confession from him to you, and every purse of his lips is a ballad from the depths of his heart. He kisses you for trivial things, like when you finally get that one specific line right as you're practicing for a script or when he's pecking you against the makeup trailer walls as he wishes you a successful day at work. He kisses you in the earliest of mornings, murmuring sweetness with his tongue against your hot skin, and he kisses you in the depths of the night, trailing his fingers down as you gasp against his mouth and exchange breaths through each swipe of his tongue.

Even after you do end up accepting his apology, he doesn't stop showering you with the affection you deserve. On nights you're feeling particularly insecure, Chanhee beats himself up and vows to never make you feel those emotions again, waking up the next morning to prove exactly why you're worth it. He takes care of you gently, the gentlest lover you've ever seen. He's the personification of a comfortable morning, the desire to stay in bed despite all the things you have going on. You never want to leave, forgetting all reason and staying in his embrace forever.

You're by his side when his first cinema blows up, when his first screenplay wins an award, when he gets his first nomination for directing, and today when he's on stage with an Academy Award in his hand and a smile you'll remember for ages.

You watch the twinkling in his eyes when he thanks his cast and crew, holding onto his assistant director tightly as he expresses his gratitude. What takes your breath away, however, is when he turns to you in the audience and whispers a confession that you'll never forget in your lifetime.

"And lastly, thank you, you know who you are, for being the best I could ever imagine. I will never regret the moment by the pond where you hugged me, the one that changed the trajectory of our lives forever. If anything, you deserve this award more than me. I love you, my Y/N."

You smile as the audience erupts in cheers, but as his assistant director hugs him on stage, his eyes only bore into yours.

"I love you too," you mouth back, watching as he grins when he recognizes your words.

"Forever and always."

#text #deoboyznet #dbn: holiday party #bluesia #chanhee #chanhee x reader #choi chanhee #tbz #tbz x reader #chanhee imagines #chanhee angst #chanhee scenarios #chanhee blurbs #choi chanhee angst #choi chanhee x reader #choi chanhee scenarios #kpop x reader #kpop #kpop angst #kpop fluff #the boyz #tbz fluff #tbz angst #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios

[lumiinix]

Hey, Pardon for the Intrusion and sudden ask but is the request close? If yes, you can delete this ask and message me but if not. I appreciate it a lot

Could you make a headcanon of Suna, Osamu, Oikawa and Iwaizumi with Silent and Mean but secretly caring S/O (Like Raven from Teen Titans. S/O is snarky, sarcastic, dark and grounchy but secretly gentle to kids, their boyfriend and animals).

Haikyuu boys with a secretly caring S/O.

Pairing(s): Suna, Osamu, Oikawa x gn!reader.

Summary: To others, you are snarky, sarcastic and dark, but to him. You’re someone else.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hey there, sorry but I only take 3 characters so I will only take the first 3 characters you choose. Other than that, enjoy!

Suna:

He’s your classmate and the two of you actually sit next to eachother.

He saw how people fear you and avoid you and honestly, he kinda did the same for a while.

That is until he saw you stay behind and feed the stray kittens that had just lost their mothers. He was just sneaking away from the Miya twins when he saw you playing and feeding them. There’s a box that have little blankets on them and milk and food around it.

And there was you, your annoyed and gloomy expression change into a much softer one as you play with the kittens, and did he even heard a giggle from you??

He was about to dip out when you caught him, your expression changed into a sort of flustered but still scary one. Clearly trying to intimidate him.

But he isn’t scared anymore, he knows your secret now and he began to teased you about how you’ve gone soft for kittens, which flustered you very much. And the rest is history.

When you two started to date, your favorite activity is to wait for him to finish volleyball practice and then the two of you to go to where the kittens are.

He values this so much as it lets him see a very different you compared to the you everyone else sees.

And boy does he feels special when you suddenly become soft for him, kissing him and holding hands after literally roast the shit out of a guy for breathing wrong-

Osamu:

The first time he meet you is when Kita told ordered him to save Atsumu’s ass from you-

He reluctantly went there when he saw you just verbally bullied the piss haired Miya, and honestly, he’s impressed.

Like it’s not everyday you get to see someone more brutal than Miya Atsumu.

When you saw him tho, you were about to verbally insult him too bc you thought he was with his twin. And he notices this.

So what does he do? He also started to verbally assault Atsumu to show you that he’s on your side and it honestly becomes fun as the both of you just straight up roast the other Miya. And the two of you begin to bond after this encounter.

Yeah Kita did not like that-

When you two started dating, it was Atsumu’s worst nightmare when the two of you were together. Like he literally cower in fear when you started to walk into the room.

And to add salt to the injury, you would become very soft to Osamu, making him bentos and such and acting like a genuinely sweet person. Which freaks Atsumu out even more.

He would love to call that out but didn’t dare to ask you both will verbally assaulted him more.

Kita is now very pleased about the fact that your present cause less fight between the twins, he even personally request you to be in their practices.

Oikawa

Nah yah gotta be childhood friends or smt cause anything besides that you’ll both just hated eachother’s guts for sure.

Like as your childhood friend, he will really hold a grasp on your true soft self and why you always have that mean and dark facade.

And you would know his facade too. A very mutual understanding.

So that’s why you both work so well with eachother…Is what close enough people like Iwaizumi would say.

The rest of the world, they still can’t get a grasp on how the fuck are you two together in the first place, much less together for years.

The volleyball team thought that you’ll be another Iwaizumi until they saw you softly comforting Oikawa when he ran into your arms after he got hit by Iwaizumi.

Yahaba tried to get to your soft side to only to be roast into crips. He took a while to recover from that.

Oikawa’s fangirls hated you because they thought of you as “too mean” but never actually have the balls to do anything about that.

Takeru lowkey loves you since you were soft with kids, it actually makes Oikawa a little jealous tbh, because he thought that he’s the only one that can see it. Let’s just say it took you a lot of milk bread and kisses for him to stop pouting (what a baby).

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#lumi:post! #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #suna x you #suna x reader #suna x male reader #suna x y/n #suna rintaro #suna fluff #osamu x reader #osamu drabble #osamu x you #osamu fluff #osamu x male reader #haikyuu osamu #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #hq oikawa

[d10nsaint]

DAPHINE

secretive plotter, kim dokja, yoo junghyuk, yoo sangah x gn!reader [separate]

another request from @rouecentric 😦⁉️🤯 so surprised rn. Anyways i love od but he’s not here because i don't wanna make them all have a romantic setting then have od be the only platonic one bcs he’s like 12.also tagging @elychee bcs they're AMAZING and wrote abt the lcf trio with a plus sized reader and you should really check it out [wink wink] i really tried to make this gn pls tell if it isn't THIS IS ALSO JUST ME SAYING NONSENSE BTW IT MIGHT NOT MAKE SENSE

ʚɞ Kim Dokja;

DOKJA is just happy he has a lover.

Really.

He also loves hugging you after a warm day—you’re just so soft and sweet to him (like anybody would be. hes so

He loves touching you. Hes just such a sucker for affection because he had none when he was younger, and he'd be elated to have someone who could handle his touch and affirm him throughout the day that its okay and they dont mind.

When it comes to your body,he really likes your chest.He lays on it when you both are lying down on the couch or even in bed. But once, one thing led to another on the couch and his head ended up on your thighs. he was literally shaking. His mind was going a million miles per hour and his face went beet red, and it was to the point where you had to make sure he was okay.

ʚɞ Yoo Sangah;

SANGAH is so naturally sweet and was raised in a way that everyone is the same—and thats how she sees people! Of course, not until she finds an s/o whos plus sized. She finally realizes the beauty of plus sized bodies !!

after a long day of work getting harassed, she just wants to go home and settle down in her lovers arms with a book and some detox tea !!

once, she was laying atop you reading a book with your back against the armrest of the couch and her back against yours, and then she realized something—you were very soft. Well, to her, atleast. Ever since, you’ve always been the big spoon!!

Shes never really had impure thoughts about you or your body….in fact, you’d have to bring stuff like that up to her in a conversation because of how little she thinks of it, so i cant really do the thigh thing

ʚɞ Yoo Junghyuk/Joonhyuk;

JUNGHYUK would just be happy that you’d survive a situation where he can't get you both food. ( Idk why i wrote that,i can't go 5 hours without getting hungry)

He’d usually carry you around as a form of training—and never admit it. He also does it just to be able to hold you, but whatever.

He'd be very fond of you (in his head) and try to be very subtle with it-he'd throw you a high grade item and say,'here,you're weak' and if you call him out, he'd glare at you and do nothing else.

By the time that you both are dating, he'd have opened up and really cherished you,hoping to make you happy and give you a life like him of the past would have.

If theres a point where youre dating and not fighting for your lives, he'd love to [secretly] just hold you in his arms and cherish you. It doesnt matter if he's standing up or laying down.He's just so happy to have you in his empty regressor life.

ʚɞ Secretive Plotter;

PLOTTER really doesnt care about body types, even when they come to his s/o UNLESS its very unhealthy.

As i’d suppose that you and plotter would be in a nice,loving and healthy relationship, he’s seen your body—no matter how insecure you are. He loves you no matter what, and nobody should ever dare to talk bad about your body and your habits or else he’d (as I said in a previous post) reign hell upon that person.

Putting the reassurance aside, hes very glad to have a thicker/ plus sized partner, due to how much his body is developed. He wouldnt have to see you as a doll and try to hold back his natural strength with all his might (i mean he still has to hold back) but its better than nothing!

he LOVES to put his hand on your thighs. He can't go a DAY without putting his hands on them, if its meant to be a reassuring caress or a more intimate touch. Male? Female? Something in between? He doesn’t care.

#manhwa #saintspeaks #leigewrites #manhwa x reader #leigetalks #x reader #orv constellations #orv au #orv #orv spoilers #orv x reader #orv omniscient reader's view point #kim dokja #kim dokja x reader #yoo junghyuk x kim dokja #yoo junghyeok #yoo junghyuk #yoo junghyuk x reader #yoo sangah #yoo sangah x reader #secretive plotter x reader #secretive plotter

[ficnoire2]

A Little Legendborn/Bloodmarked Scent Theory

Scent is nostalgic.  It transports us back to a memory, a person, and the feelings that lived in that pocket of time.  When I was a teenager Snoop Dog proclaimed in Lodi Dodi “For all the bitches I might take home, I got the Johnson’s Baby Powder and Cool Water cologne.”  Yes, I have happily dated myself with that reference (all my youngins, do your Googles) but nearly every boy I knew had that scent profile and every time one of them said, “Where my hug at” I would bury my nose in its familiar embrace.  Tracy has been hella intentional with so many of her choices in this amazing series (see a bit more in my “A little LB/BM…” series at the end) and I don’t think the way our favs smell is any different.  Let’s take a dip in the olfactory pool shall we?

Bree Matthews - scent profile Gourmand, Green, Mossy Woods

“Do you want to know?” he asks in a low voice that makes me shiver.  He reaches for my hand, and his fingers are hot against my palm.  “What your magic smells like?”... “Honey wine.  Amber.  Green things growing.  The tiniest hint of copper, like fresh blood.  Something else…”  A deep inhale, and I feel him shudder.  “Power.”

Well now, Selwyn said a mouthful when describing Bree’s scent and every note fits her perfectly.  

Honey Wine - Did y'all know that honey wine is also called Meade?  Arthur went on about someone drinking all of it when Bree popped up in one of his memories.  It is made from honey, yeast, and water and can vary in alcohol content and can be mixed with fruit.  In Celtic cultures, Meade is thought to enhance virility and fertility and has aphrodisiac qualities (had Sel on his ass in the woods).  This wine was said to have been first made in secret by Irish Monks. Its origins, however, are lost in prehistory with the earliest archeological evidence dating back to 7000 BC. It was used in feasts and celebrations across Europe and Asia and still exists today. A scent fit for a King. 

Amber - Warm and exotic, amber which is derived from tree resin and described as “Gold of the Sea” and has been touted as the world’s oldest and most desired treasure.  It is considered beautiful and unique and has special chemical properties that are electrically charged and could ignite when rubbed together (A bit volatile and explosive like our Bree).  Amber is a powerful Chakra cleanser and can absorb negative energy, transferring it into positive. It can be used in meditation for relaxation and can heighten and enhance psychic abilities. 

Green Things Growing - The scent of fresh cut grass, blooming flora, mother earth.  Representing growth, new beginnings, healing, and renewal.  I find it interesting that Sel tapped into this aspect of her scent as taking in her root (after giving him consent) revitalized him.  In a way Bree’s arrival has brought forth new beginnings and growth for everyone she has come into contact with.

Copper, Fresh Blood, Power - Smelling blood (where none is present) can signify a deep connection with ancestral ties.  As we know Bree has seen Vera bathed in blood, and its use has been pivotal to her communing with her ancestors.  It can also serve as a shield or protection.  Erebus has Bloodmarked Bree which alerts him to her danger, in a way protecting her. This scent being part of her profile is telling because it is a symbol of life, sacrifice, and spiritual potency.  These attributes are ever present in Bree.  She after all is their sharpest and strongest blade with a powerful connection to the spirit realm. 

Selwyn Kane - Scent profile Oriental (amber/sweet), woody (smoky), peaty (aged whiskey)

“We are so close I smell whiskey and smoke.  His aether signature, back again.”

Whiskey - Did you know that smelling alcohol has spiritual significance involving evolution, cleansing, and reemergence with renewed clarity?  Smelling alcohol can be a call to purify oneself, to get rid of negativity.  It can signify a period of transition or transformation, a rebirth if you will.  Selwyn Kane has managed to change immensely throughout both books.  He can literally transform by owl shifting.  By the end of Bloodmarked, we see yet another iteration of him as he transitioned more towards his shadow side, his demon nature.  Historical context suggests the scent of alcohol is associated with sacred rituals (Oathing ceremonies) and can be a bridge between the physical and spiritual realms. 

Cinnamon - In the oriental scent family, this scent is exotic and seductive (just like our favorite, angsty, goth).  Some people use cinnamon for protection, prosperity, and healing.  It is said to be anti-viral, anti-biotic, anti-microbial, and antifungal “I don’t get infections.”  Cinnamon has therapeutic properties, it's no wonder Selwyn is able to heal so quickly from injury (bruised ego aside).

Smoke- While a part of Sel’s scent profile, when Bree smells the hint of smoke he gives off, it suggests her closeness to the ancestral plane and the supernatural.  Like Bree, people that smell smoke when there is none can sense the spiritual world.  Selly has an affinity for detecting those pesky Shadowborn that continuously make their way to our world. Its scent is also associated with messages from our ancestors and the divine.

Nick Davis - Scent profile Woody, fresh

“When he catches up, his fresh laundry and cedar scent comes with him.  Of course he smells good.”

Fresh Laundry-Nick’s scent has been described as a bit boring, but I tend to disagree.  Tracy has been extremely intentional with her choices in this series and I don’t think Nick’s scent is any different.  Fresh laundry makes you want to bury your face in it.  After a long day and a nice shower, it feels like home to snuggle into freshly laundered sheets (Is it just me?).  It is comforting to snuggle up in your favorite blanket that smells of your favorite detergent.  It is soothing and in a sense freshly laundered linens are a clean slate.  If that isn’t Nick, I don’t know what is.  He is deeply comforting to Bree and is a soft place to land for her.  Whenever she is in his room, she is smelling his clothes, sheets, she is able to find respite with him.  He is a change of pace in all the chaos happening in her life.  Not only does he serve as comfort for her, but for Sel as well (hello Bloodwalk).  Plus, tell me you haven’t taken clothes out of the dryer and took a big ol’ whiff.

Cedar- I love the smell of cedar.  Symbolically it represents protection, wisdom, strength, and spiritual grounding (come on Nicky!).  In some cultures Cedar trees are considered sacred and are known for their healing relationship with humankind.  The scent of cedar clears the mind, opening it to past memories. Cedar trees in particular are said to store energy, only releasing it when important healing needs to occur.  We know Nick has a lot of inner rage (Max fucked around and found out), but he is also optimistic and seeking correction of the wrongs his father and The Order have imposed on the Legendborn.  I don’t know about you, but I’d bathe my clothes in this for sure.

Scent is such a powerful medium. What do you think of our faves’ scents?  I find it interesting that the spiciest characters (looking at you Bree and Selwyn) are in the oriental/woody scent family and our more level headed bunch is in the fresh scent family. 

In part two, we’ll take a look at Valec, William, and Incense Daddy himself, Erebus. 

Color Theory

Symbolism

#legendborn #bree mathews #nick davis #selwyn kane #tracey deonn #bloodmarked

[vodika-vibes]

first off just wanted to say congrats for 500 followers!!! that’s such a great achievement🎉

and second i saw that you’re tup girlie and figured i’d drop a request for the event with tup!! i was thinking something with diamond bc our boy deserves a love that is everlasting😌✨✨ and could you make it gender neutral please?

Just The Two Of Us

Summary: You love Tup. It’s easy. Simple. The easiest thing you’ve ever done. You just aren’t sure if he feels the same way.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x GN!Reader

Word Count: 540

Prompt: Diamond - Everlasting Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you! And I'm always happy to write for baby boy Tup! I don't get to very often because people don't request him very often.

“Alright, are you ready?” You ask as you take Tup’s hand and tug him down the street.

“I am, but where are we going, cyare?” Tup asks, his gaze alight with fondness as you pull him through the crowds.

“It’s a secret!”

He laughs softly, and takes several large steps so that he’s standing next to you, and he threads his fingers with yours, “But wouldn’t it be more fun if you told me where we were going?” Tup asks, as he leans in so his nose is almost bumping yours.

“...are you trying to seduce me into spilling my secret?”

“Is it working?”

“....yes.”

He laughs, his forehead lightly bumping against yours, “Great! So where are we going?”

“I…might have reserved a room at the botanical garden for our date tonight.”

Tup blinks at you, “Cyare, that can’t have been cheap-”

“You’re worth it.” You say quickly, “Now! Hurry up!” You tug continue to tug him though the streets, until you reach the garden. Where you then lead him to one of the small greenhouses.

A greenhouse full of blue and white flowers.

You intentionally chose this greenhouse.

And there, in the middle of the room, is a table for two, with lit candles and a cooler full of food next to it. There’s also soft music filling the room. “Ta-dah~” You say nervously, as you look at his face to try and determine what he thinks.

“You did all of this for me?”

“Yup.”

“The picnic-?”

“Your favorite curry, the cooler is specially designed to keep hot food hot.” You explain quickly.

“The music-”

“You really liked it when we went dancing that one time-”

“The candles?” Tup asks, a slow grin crossing his face as he leans into your personal space.

“Uh…scented candles. The spicy scented ones you really like.”

“Mm,” His arms wrap securely around your waist and for some, ridiculous, reason you’re feeling kind of flustered with how he’s looking at you, “The flowers-”

“I like blue and white,” You say sheepishly, “and they make me think of you.”

“You didn’t have to go all out for me, cyare.” Tup says, a wide grin on his handsome face as he leans in so that his lips are hovering just over yours.

“Well,” You say, somehow even more flustered, “I love you and you’re worth it-”

You’re not able to finish your statement as his lips claim yours in a deep, and passionate kiss.

“You love me, huh?” Tup murmurs against your lips.

“Was that ever in doubt?”

He chuckles, “No. You’re not terribly subtle.” He kisses you again and again, “I love you too. Just as much.”

“You do?”

“You doubt it?”

“No. Never,” You kiss him quickly, “But you’ve never said one way or the other-”

“I’m sorry for making you worry. I didn’t want to pressure you. And then I just thought that you could tell.” Tup murmurs, “Will you ever forgive me?”

You beam at him, “Already forgiven.”

He releases a sigh of relief, “Good. That’s good.” Tup leans in and kisses you again, his arms tight around you.

You have a good feeling about tonight, and about the rest of your life. After all, you have Tup, and he has you.

#star wars #tcw #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #clone trooper tup x reader #tup x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[milawritesstuff]

I see you’re taking requests 👀 can you do a gavi imagine where the reader, his girlfriend is celebrating her birthday & she’s having a huge party in which he forgets about & pedri being the reader’s brother tells him the next day at practice how he doesn’t like to get into his sister’s personal life but he has to for this situation bc she’s really upset about him forgetting. Eventually Gavi starts to make up for it by going back to their first date & recreating that. If you can make it fluff & smut if you’re comfortable. Thank you :)

A/N: I tried to make it short but I think it was still too long. Hope you like it. Couldn’t include smut really or it would have been much longer. If you want a second part let me know. :)

Warnings: None

•••••

You came out of the restroom in a short black dress that hugged your curves. “How does it look?” You asked your friend Alice who was anxiously waiting for you on your bed.

“You look amazing! Pablo won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.” She smirked.

“I kind of need him to behave while Pedri is around.” You said to Alice. “Maybe in the after party.” Alice looked at you confused. “We’re having an after party?” She asked.

“Pablo and I are.” You winked. “Maybe you and my brother can have one.” Alice’s cheeks turned red as you both began to giggle. You were soon interrupted by a knock at your bedroom door.

“Everyone dressed?” Asked your brother, Pedri. “You can come in.” You responded as Alice turned to face the bedroom door excited to see Pedri. She had been in love with your brother for years but of course Pedri was too focused on futbol to notice. “Hola Alice.” He nodded to your friend whose cheeks were red as tomatoes now. She smiled at him.

“Are you almost ready?” Pedri asked you. Pedri was in charge of taking you and Alice to the club you would be celebrating your 20th birthday at. Your parents had asked him to get you there safe and then you were on your own. Pedri had rushed home from practice to get ready and look halfway decent in case fans saw him and asked for pictures. “Meet you outside in 5 minutes?” You asked.

The three of you made your way to the club. You knew if Pedri had made it home on time Pablo had too, they played together. On your way to the club you had sent Pablo a message “On our way, see you soon ;)” but he hadn’t responded yet. You and Pablo had been dating for a few months, you had tried to keep it a secret because in addition to being your brother’s teammate he was also his good friend. Eventually Pedri had walked in on you and Pablo making out in your room, reason why he always knocks now. He wasn’t happy but he wasn’t upset either. He had warned you not to mess up his friendship with Pablo but he had also told you he wouldn’t get involved in your personal life.

Pablo didn’t answer.

Your friends started to arrive to the club but you kept on looking at the entrance waiting for Pablo to walk in. He never made it.

Alice has a few drinks and was finally talking to Pedri. Unfortunately, even if either of them wanted to escalate things they couldn’t because you were going back home with them now.

You didn’t say anything to your brother and he knew better than to ask what had happened. Halfway through the night he had also messaged his friend if he was coming but he had not gotten a response either. Once you two had dropped off Alice at her house the drive home was silent.

“Did you enjoy yourself, enana?” He asked. You just half smiled at him and nodded returning to look out the window of his car trying to hold in the tears.

The next morning when you woke up Pedri had already left to practice.

Pedri walked into the locker room and went straight to Pablo. He had just gotten there as well. “Cabron, what happen?” Asked Pedri in a loud low voice, enough to get Gavi’s attention but not loud enough for the other teammates to notice. “Buenos dias to you too, Pedri.” Answered Gavi.

“Are you serious?” Asked Pedri. “What’s up with you today, Pedri?” Spat Gavi back as he finally managed to get his locker door open. As Pedri mentioned your name and Pablo opened up his locker his phone fell out. Pablo bent down to pick it up and then he looked up at your brother with a furrowed brow “Y/N? Oh fuck Pedri don’t tell me.” He quickly looked at his phone and saw all of the messages and missed calls from you.

“You missed her birthday celebration cabron. I promised her I wouldn’t get involved in whatever you guys have going on but I thought it was more serious than this. If all you’re looking for is a good time in bed you better break it off with her right now. I can’t keep quiet after seeing Y/N looking at the club entrance all night waiting for you to appear. She didn’t even enjoy herself.”

Gavi just stood there in front of your brother not knowing what to say. The truth was he had left practice in a bad mood yesterday. He left in such a bad mood and in a hurry that he had forgotten his phone in the locker room. When he got home he fell asleep and he was so mad and tired he didn’t wake up until this morning.

Gavi was uncomfortable the whole practice because he could feel your brother staring at him. Probably plotting how he was going to kill him for hurting his little sister.

“Can I ride with you?” Gavi asked your brother as practice ended. “I don’t think Y/N wants to see you right now.” Responded Pedri as he walked away, which meant no. Gavi took the hint.

Gavi decided to send you a message.

Gavi: Y/N I’m so sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I didn’t mean to miss it. Can we meet up and talk?

You didn’t respond. You had spent all day in your room. Your parents thought you had a hangover but it wasn’t that. In fact you wished you had drank enough to forget how you felt but you hadn’t.

You continued to get messages from Gavi the following days which went unanswered. Until finally one of those days your mom walked into your room “Pablo is here looking for you. What do you want me to say?” Pedri was in his room and as soon as he heard he barged into your room. “You still haven’t talked to him?” He asked.

“No. Why should I?” You answered.

“Because he’s been horrible at practice all week. I can’t take any more days of him walking around with that frown on his face and everything bothering him.” Pedri was annoyed.

“Fine.” Your mom let Gavi in who quietly walked into your room. “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He explained what had happened and although it may be hard to believe it was true you knew how mad he got when something didn’t go right in practice or a match. “Let me make it up to you.”

A few days later Gavi asked you to meet him at a local park in the afternoon, after his practice. That’s where you two had your first unofficial date. You remembered that day perfectly which ended with Pablo and you kissing for the first time. You walked around the park for a while until Pablo messaged you he had just gotten there.

Pablo approached you and gave you a kiss. “Amor.” He said. You blushed at such a simple word that filled you with hope. “What are we doing here, Pablo?” You asked.

“I told you I was going to make it up to you.” Explained Gavi. “Pedri told me what happened at the club and I feel like such an asshole for having missed it.”

“Pedri?” You asked surprised.

“Yes. And he told me he thought this was more serious than I was acting like it was. And I want to tell you that I am taking this seriously. I really like you.”

“I really like you too, Gavi.”

“These past few months have been the best. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.” He said as he leaned in and kissed you. You bit his bottom lip and continued to kiss him. Pushing your bodies together.

“Y/N, there’s people around.” He whispered. “And I wish there weren’t. Because I had something planned for you after the party that I wish I could give to you right now.” Pablo took a step away from you and looked bewildered. “Really?” He looked at you from head to toe. You nodded.

“And if you behave you might get it tonight.” You teased him. He knew exactly what you were referring to because you two had talked about taking the next step in your relationship. “Don’t do this to me right here.” He said as he looked around and placed his sweater in front of him trying to hide what you had caused.

“Vamos, Pablo.” You said as you began to walk away. “Show me what you planned for us today.” He followed you as you recreated your first date step by step. Except now you didn’t feel as nervous and you were 100% falling in love with him.

#pablo gavi #gavi fluff #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavira #pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine

[miniimapp]

Can you make hcs for Aaron T,Z, and fem or gender neutral reader being in a poly relationship?

Gen ;; Fluff - Headcanons

Warnings ;; none lol

Proofread + Edited ;; if you even consider this a possibility do you even know me ??

Auth. Note ;; never written poly before so forgive any inaccuracy,, also we went gn!reader for this bc i wanted to alskfkb

also the colour scheme is giving halloween and i live for it :DD

Jan 2024 Edit ;; excuse my abhorrent timing.. let's pretend it hasn't nearly been a year since i got this, yh ?? sick lol

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

literally the first thing that came to mind is lazy mornings

just straight up cuddles only,, no worries

as i typed that i got the sudden like mini scene in my kind of T singing hakuna matata and Z joining in with little harmonies

holy shit T's morning voice is deeper than the fucking mariana trench my dudes

let's get one thing clear,, everyone gets flustered by T's morning voice

and he finds it fucking hilarious

but for the first months of dating,, you thoughts Z was the only exception

literally not a single eyelid batted

you were beyond confused

like,, your cheeks are burning

how is mans enduring this.. what are his secrets

like,, you'd feel your brain melting out of ears trying to maintain some semblance of calm and Z over here is brushing it off like water off of a duck's back

at least that's what you think

inside Z is full on screeching,, he is hot,, he is flustered,, he might be dying..

but hey,, at least no one can tell !!

it took a couple months for you to figure out that Z does not,, in fact,, keep his cool over T's morning voice

he does,, in fact,, lose it just like everyone else

how did you find this out you may be wondering ??

through Z's top secret diary of course !!

you and T stumbled upon by complete accident

really,, you did !!

no sneakiness was utilised in this mission.. definitely not..

but it just so happened to be left open on the table

you didn't even realise what it was at first,, figured it was one of Z's choreo notations and got kinda curious

T always liked to sneak peeks at the choreo beforehand to see how tiring it was going to be lol

then,, once you'd started reading you just couldn't stop

there were pages upon pages of flustered musings,, sincere endearment,, and loving descriptions

it was all too sweet !!

and within those pages was it

all of Z's hidden breakdowns over T's morning voice !!

you knew you weren't the only once,, you just knew it !!

the euphoria quickly subsided to make way for guilt at reading his diary

and you knew T was feeling similarly..

so,, you fessed up

that was awkward,, lemme tell you !!

you'd never seen T so.. squeamish (??) before

luckily,, Z didn't react badly

not even slightly

his reaction actually startled you slightly

because he just started laughing

it started small,, an amused little huff and snowballed into hiccuping snorts

it was honestly kinda adorable..

and that broke the awkwardness for both you and T

you joined in real quick

that really smashed through a couple of layers of ice you guys hadn't even realised was there from the beginning of your relationship

you all got a lot more comfortable around each other after that !!

it was good :))

moving on,,

i feel like T started this game called something stupid like "say that again but rap it"

literally all he does is get Z to repeat his sentences but rap them instead

so Z flipped it back on him because let's be real,, T can talk for a podium position,, he's literally the perfect target of his own game

fr out of nowhere T was rambling and Z waited for him to finish his spoken essay before going,, "say that again but rap it"

T was beyond flabbergasted,, mans forgets the words as soon as they left his mouth

and don't we all frfr

but is that going to stop him from trying (and failing) ??

you bet your ass it isn't !!

mans said real fast "gimme a beat"

AND Z DOES WITHOUT HESITATION

free entertainment baby,, that's what you're in for with these two ;DD

it was a catastrophe,, lemme be real clear

it was mostly just frantic not-words and vocalisations with the odd word or phrase that he actually remembed thrown in

lots of "hmm dumm da stupid fucking washing mashine uhh da dee da" and "broken p- uh p-pu- uh,, what's that word?? da da,, shut up Z !! oh,, pulsator!!"

like,, yeah you got that word but now we've lost all sense of rhythm lmao

it's a great time honestly,, wish i could've been there fr

overall,, i think that this throuple would be so amazingly chaotic but also so sweet and good to one another

you'd never want for anything,, they'd do everything they could for you

and you work so well with them and be such a good connection to the world outside 4*TOWN

i think you'd def keep them feeling human and real

#catch me running over after a year long hiatus #nice to see you to see you nice #i think thats the quote #clearing out my drafts #4town headcanons #4town #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town aaron z x reader #4town aaron t x reader #polyamory #turning red

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I can't | {InoTan(Zen)}

Theme: Fluff and Angst

Note: The parantheses in the title (the InoTan(Zen)) is because this is mostly InoTan but Zenitsu is also partally involved in the relationship, except because this is mostly from Inosuke's POV (although 3rd perspective so uhm-) it mostly features InoTan rather than the full InoTanZen iykwim :>

Also major spoilers 😁 Idgaf there's probably spoilers in all of the one shots I write.. this one just has more bc of the ending of the manga- 😀 And I apologize if I get anything incorrect I haven't read the last book in a while ;-;

Tanjiro had always been easy to like. Even from the beginning, when he'd worried about Inosuke all the time. It was annoying, of course. But there was a small tug in his heart. Something that told him that this boy was different. And different in a good way. Tanjiro was constantly there for him, caring, worrying, it was just so.. comforting. A warmth that Inosuke liked. It was a soothing one. Sometimes it even gave him a feeling of nostolgia, although he was unsure why given that he'd been raised by boars who weren't exactly like this. 

Inosuke often found himself thinking about Tanjiro—something he hated catching himself doing, and always ended up being really flushed around Tanjiro for the next hour before he managed to keep himself collected again and back to his normal, chaotic self.

The two—or rather, the three, but Inosuke often favored Tanjiro over Zenitsu—grew closer over time and eventually a relationship sprouted from the roots of their friendship. The more time they spent with each other, the more time they made new memories with one another, the more the bud bloomed into a flower. And by then they started dating. It wasn't clear, at first, just.. a suggestion. An unspoken one. 

Small things; holding hands while they walked, sharing snacks, going on mindless walks together, etc. Eventually the flower buds pricked out more and they started doing bigger things. Hugs here and then, stolen kisses between missions. They were at first, just on the cheek. It had started when they'd been joking around and Tanjiro had taken Zenitsu's hand and kissed it, much to the blond's surprise. Eventually it became something normal to do. Take one's hand, or cheek, and kiss it. Just.. touches of affection. Not a lot, right? Just a joke? But it turned into more. More as in.. on the neck, collarbone, lips.. 

That's when it became abundantly clear that they liked each other. That's when the unspoken relationship came to be. They had something different. A secret they kept but none had ever said aloud. Sometimes, their conversations nearly led to the subject, moving dangerously close. But it was always turned away at the last minute and it was left untouched. The flower continued blooming as time went on. Eventually, Tanjiro decided to just straight up ask. 

One day, after a mission, the three had been walking home—home was just an abandoned house they had found and fixed up to liveable conditions—and they were talking. Tanjiro went off to the side to rest a little, put Nezuko down. While Inosuke and Zenitsu argued a little on the road, waiting for Tanjiro to catch his breath, the sweet boy was looking for some flowers. When he came back, he was adjusting Nezuko's box—as far as the other two could see. But then he pulled out the flowers and give them to Inosuke and Zenitsu. Inosuke had taken his in wonder; they were a bundle of blue forget-me-nots, beautifully intertwined with each other. He'd seen them all over the mountains where he'd lived and was very familiar with them. But for some reason, for some reason these were special. They were special because they came from Tanjiro. Then the young and wild boy looked up and his eyes met Tanjiro's, right before the other's eyes met Zenitsu's. Then Tanjiro uttered the words that are now engraved in Inosuke's mind, the words he would never forget and forever cherish. "Inosuke, Zenitsu, would you two.. be my boyfriends?" 

Tanjiro had said more. Went on with a rant—a cute one at that, Inosuke always loves listening to Tanjiro when he went on, rambling about whatever was on his mind. He found it adorable in some ways, although when anyone else did it he found it extremely annoying and boring—something about how it was okay if they didn't want to, it was okay if they said no, how he'd been thinking about this for a while, and so on and so forth. Inosuke heard none of it however, just staring at Tanjiro and how lovely he looked in the sunlight. Then Inosuke's eyes locked with Zenitsu's and they both grinned. Tanjiro was then smothered in a hug and the rest of his words were stopped in his throat as the other two embraced him, accepting the flowers and the question. They both loved him with all their hearts and wouldn't, even if it saved them their lives, have said no.

And so it went on. A tree now. Big and beautiful. Blooming flowers coating the branches. They spent a lot of time together. This time their relationship wasn't quite as secret as before. Their hugs in public were much longer, more prominent. 'Secret' whispered conversations were held more often. Hands clutching each other's hands were seen whenever they were together. And soon, the brief kisses hidden from the view of others became something none of the trio cared for the world to know about. Nezuko had been delighted at the three's revelation, how they'd gotten together, all of it. She loved how it made them all seem closer, as well, how they felt more like family with every minute.

But of course, good things always come to an end. 

Inosuke found himself in a difficult position. Tanjiro or himself. Tanjiro or himself. Tanjiro or himself. Tanjiro was a demon. Stronger than Muzan. He had to move. Cut the head. Weaken him. Just move!! Cut his head off. Now! Move! Why.. why can't he? Is it because.. because he was his boyfriend? Because they were more now? Because he didn't want to lose all he had? All he'd gained? All the love.. the happiness.. everything.. everything he fought for.. gone? No.. he couldn't.. he couldn't do this.. no.. please.. don't.. don't make him make such a terrible decision.. True.. Tanjiro was a demon now, he could regenerate.. but Inosuke would never forgive himself if he hurt Tanjiro. No. He couldn't. He.. just.. couldn't.. And he felt himself pulling away. Moving out of harms way. But Tanjiro was faster, pinning him down. He heard somebody call to him. The Hashira. The Half and Half Haori Hashira.. What was he saying..? 

"CUT OFF HIS HEAD, HASHIBIRA!!"

No.. no.. he.. it was too hard.. Then he let out a strangled cry as Tanjiro went for his neck.

"I'm sorry.. I can't..!" he whispered.

{Word Count: 1153}

Stop I actually feel bad for writing this 💀

#inotanzen #angst #spoilers #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #dkt #demon king tanjiro #tanjiro #inosuke #zenitsu #kamaboko squad #angsty shit

[sluts4shigaraki]

BACK TO SCHOOL!

CW ♡ none really for this chapter. mild creepiness from shiggy but what’s new tbh

Pairing ♡ shigaraki/fem!reader

Word count ♡ 2,100

minors/ageless blogs DNI ♡ you will be blocked

A/N ♡ as of right now i’ve got around 7 chapters for this but i’ll be scattering posting them, i’m trying to get back into writing again so this blog will be semi active ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ also it’s under a read more bc all these chapters are kinda fat. so obv reader is chubby in this, but you can assume that all of my reader fics are chubby reader tbh

DAY ONE

———————————————————————————

Calculus was your worst class. Not just because you were bad at it, or because Mr. Byrne was rude to you, but because of him. Tomura was a part of an exchange student program. Most of the students adjusted well and made friends, but it seemed like Tomura didn’t even want to be here. He constantly had his hood up and never spoke to anyone as he moved across campus. He sat directly behind you, never contributing to any discussions. All he did was stare at you so hard you could feel his eyes burning a hole in your head. This semester felt like it would last forever thanks to this class. You tried to take notes and listen to the lecture but none of it made sense. As the lecture came to a close, your professor called your name, and Tomura’s. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Can you two stay for a moment?” Oh good lord. Holding your breath, you stepped up to your professors desk. “Your test scores have been… inadequate lately. So I’ve asked Tomura to tutor you. He’s already agreed, and I’m willing to bump your grade up. As long as you’re willing to meet up for an hour or two every day till the test next week,” he presented a sheet, dates, times and a place for a signature. “You two fill these out and we’ll see what we can do,” why, why of all people, this guy? Surely there has to be someone else just as smart. Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe no one else would tutor you.

“Mr. Byrne I don’t…” before you even finished, he held up a hand.

“If you fail this class, your GPA will drop and you’ll have to retake it. I know you don’t want to be here. Give it a chance,” as he spoke, Tomura was rocking on his feet, anxiously picking at his fingers. He wanted you to say yes. Needed you to say yes. This was his in. He never knew how to speak to you. You were out of his league, and he’d never even spoken to someone he was attracted to extensively, especially not one he wanted as badly as he wanted you.

Tomura had been watching you since you started this class with him. Of course, he’d seen you around campus. You stuck out to him, because you were just his type. Soft hips, chubby, a beautiful smile, and a sunny aura that he didn’t have. Obviously he didn’t know you that well, but he knew you enough. Hopefully you didn’t notice that he found out where you frequented, coffee shops and parks on campus. He definitely hoped you didn’t notice how much attention he paid you, listening in when you spoke to someone, watching your secret little habits you don’t even think about. Tomura wanted to know everything. He knew he was weird, so he’d have to find out how to attract you despite that. That scared him. How could he attract someone like you to someone like him? It didn’t matter. Even if being near you made him nauseous and sweaty, he’d do it. You would be his before the week was out.

“That’s.. fine I guess. I’ll do it,” turning to him, you noticed he wouldn’t even meet your eyes.“So, are you free right now, or do you have a class or somethin’?” Tomura’s throat went dry. All he had to say was that he’s free, and wants to tutor you now, but so many questions and worries bobbed around in his head. Would you want to go to your dorm or his? God, not his dorm. It’s disgusting. There’s a picture he took of you on his computer. You weren’t aware he took it, but it was sticky and he knew you’d be grossed out. Maybe even enough to drop the class and take the failing grade. Finally he managed to sputter out some words, knowing he’d took a weird amount of time to respond.

“We can do it right now. Wherever, i-is fine,” instantly you recoiled. You didn’t want him to know how much you dreaded this so he’d at least do a good job and help you pass.

“There’s some tables in the park if that’s okay. It’s usually pretty quiet,” but public enough to not be totally alone with him, you thought. Tomura nodded, following you out of the building. He always loved how you looked, the way your thighs spread when you sat, how soft your tummy looked. You were confident, and it showed in the way you dressed. He could only imagine how it would feel to touch you, your stomach, your thighs. Being behind you was like a godsend, he got to watch you walk. He could’ve easily outpaced you with his height, but he made sure to keep a slow pace just to stay where he was.

Trying to fill the silence on the way to the park was awkward, but you had to say something. Anything.

“This class makes me feel kinda stupid. It’s not a part of my major but it’s a required class, so I feel like it shouldn’t be as hard as it is, you know?”

Tomura doesn’t know how to respond. The only thing he wants to do is hold your hand. Be yours, so you can be his. His palms are soaked with sweat at the very thought. He wiped them on his hoodie, not knowing what to do with them. Why did merely existing around you make him feel so out of place? All he wanted to do was impress you and he had no idea if he was even capable of that. Instinctively, his hands flew to his neck to scratch at the scarred skin there. You flick your eyes back to him, all you see is his head down, hands digging at his neck.

When you get to the park, it was more empty then you’d hoped. You dropped your backpack at the nearest table and sat down with your notebook full of a few notes and lots of doodles and scribbling. Just like before, it took Tomura way too long to speak.

“What part is uh.. confusing you?” Clicking his pen over and over again, like a nervous tick, he still refused to make eye contact.

“Um, well, I guess the calculus part,” trying to make a lighthearted joke to ease the tension. It was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Well, I think we should start with what the basics and… go from there?” Once he got started it was hard to get him to shut up. Turns out if you wanted him to speak, you just needed to ask a distressing amount of questions about math, probably video games too. Tomura was smart, which probably shouldn’t have surprised you. You shouldn’t even be in the same class as him. Your teacher couldn’t teach you half the things Tomura could. Eventually the lights in the park had come on.

“Wow, has it really been, like, two hours? I didn’t even notice. You’re actually a really good teacher,” the compliment made Tomura’s head swim. You tore off a scrap of paper, scribbling your number on it. “Text me, ‘kay? This helped a lot but, I think I need a lot more to pass that test. Thanks for that, Tomura,” you beamed at him, and he finally met your eyes. You were a little hesitant to give it to him, or even give him that wide of a smile. Then he gave his best attempt at a smile back to you. It was crooked and a little unnerving.

With visibly quivering hands, either due to nervousness or tremors, he took the paper. Tomura cleared his throat, and added it to his phone. He pushed the paper into his pocket and sent you a text. Regret sinks in just a touch, but you needed to be able to communicate with him when you didn’t have a class together.

“There, so you’ll know it’s me and not some.. weirdo,” in your head you burst out laughing but you kept an innocent smile on your face. Did he not realize he was some weirdo? Even though he was incredibly helpful with tutoring, he still did weird things that made you a little scared of him. Things on and off campus that made others avoid him. Tomura had long, greasy, unkempt hair. It somehow still held some volume, so you couldn’t imagine what it looked like clean. The bags under his eyes were deep, like he never slept, not a singular time since he was born. His lips were always dry, his voice raspy. You were pretty sure he survived on Monster and take-out. Girls would talk about how they caught him staring. Or walking behind them, quite a distance away, but still following. The talk died down when he started calculus, all because of you. You were the one he wanted. The other girls were pretty, a little stupid, probably easy to manipulate. Getting you though, that would be like the boss battle at the end of a game. Incredibly difficult, it might take a few tries, but the satisfaction it’d bring would be worth it.

“I’m free th-the same time tomorrow. We can meet here if you want,” he was scratching his neck, and you could see his sharp, uneven fingernails digging in and blood getting underneath them. You felt like you had to be nice. Tutoring you was at least worth a little bit of kindness, considering he did it for free. The reason why he did it was so obvious and so obscure. Plus, you were taught manners, and no matter how much you disliked someone, you should help if they’re hurt.

“Oh, you’re uh, bleeding. Here, let me see,” digging through your backpack, you found your first aid kit. You cleaned his wounds, and put some neosporin and a bandaid on his neck. Tomura could cry. The feeling of your fingers on his neck made his dick twitch. He wouldn’t say that, and he’s hoping he didn’t show it. You both went your separate ways, you went back to your dorm and didn’t think much more about it. It was much different for Tomura.

On the walk back, the only thing keeping him from digging the skin fully off his neck was the bandage you put on him. Gently grazing his fingers across it, it made him blush. It also made him incredibly angry. He could’ve said something. Kissed you, even. You were so close, your soft hands making him light headed. Yet just looking at you, feeling your breath on his neck, paralyzed him. The walk gave him time to think, and that gave him time to get angry at himself.

When he stepped in his dorm room, he threw his backpack against the wall, slamming the door shut behind him. His roommate, Touya, sat on the bed opposite Tomura’s. Unfazed by one of his frequent tantrums, he tapped on his phone. Probably trying to figure out what party to be at so he can get his dick wet. Tomura despised him. He could get nearly anyone he wanted but Tomura couldn’t even get the one person he wanted. Everything about you was all he wanted.

The room was dirty on both sides, but his side was worse. Tomura had empty energy drink cans everywhere, figures of lewd anime girls, dirty clothes covering whatever else was there. Sometimes it was clean, when the RA decided to come by. That rarely happened so Tomura rarely cleaned.

“Wha’ happened? Someone mildly inconvenience you again?” Smirk decorating Touya’s scarred face. He looked like a freak too, but he didn’t get the same judgement Tomura faced. Touya had girls lining up to even talk to him. Tomura had girls crossing the street if he passed by.

“I was... an idiot! She was right there. So close I could’ve touched her anywhere or anyway I wanted to. And I didn’t,” aggressively pulling his gaming chair closer and sat with his elbows on the computer desk. Scratching at his neck, he felt the bandaid you placed, running his finger along it. “She…she really took care of me. And I’m practically a stranger.”

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe, for once, you should try not stalking them and being a freak. Act like you don’t want ‘em, they come runnin’,” what he said was maybe right, as much as Tomura hated to admit it. When he meets you again, he’ll test this theory.

#shigaraki x reader #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha x reader #chubby!reader #shigaraki x chubby!reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x you #mha #my hero academia

[manonblaqkbeak]

A Little Something

hello, me again with the very exciting titles as always lol.

hope you’re all doing well.

this fic is an attempt to be humourous, and i have no idea if it worked on paper. a little rowaelin human au this time bc i keep getting human rowaelin fic ideas lately.

enjoy!

cw: none??

word count: 1.3k

Aelin had done a lot of travelling throughout the world in her twenty-five years of life, from travelling around her own country and continent, to the further reaches of the plant, there was always the same spots she was drawn too.

The beach. No matter how far she travelled, Aelin would always find a way to get to the beach. There was simply something magical about the ocean, about the sounds and imagery it created. The utter peace she felt when she would sit on the sand, and tune out the rest of the world while listening to the sounds of the crashing waves and seagulls.

And ever since she started dating Rowan, her love of the beach intensified.

It had become a shared love between them; it was where they had their first date—a picnic at sunset—and where they declared their love and consummated their relationship.

She was about to suggest to Rowan, who was driving her convertible, for a quick stop at the beach before going to their hotel when he seemingly read her mind and did so. There weren't many cars around at the closest parking, but Rowan drove further until he found a park higher up so they had a better view of the cerulean waves.

“How do you think Aedion and Lysandra are handling everything?” Rowan asked as they held hands and made their way to the rail. The air was heavy with salt and wildflowers.

“Well, I haven't received any texts from either of them saying that they've killed each other,” Aelin said, leaning against Rowan's chest as his arms came to rest around her waist, his chin on the top of her wavy head. “But it's only been a couple of hours so we'll have to wait and see.”

Aelin and Rowan were headed to a pretty coastal town for two weeks for a holiday, mainly to spend some more quality time together and to have a break from work, but also for a festival one weekend and then a symphony orchestra the next. And instead of paying for a house-sitter, Aedion and Lysandra offered to look after their apartment for them. Aelin was well-aware that her cousin and best friend were in the “thinking about moving in together” phase of their relationship and was more than happy lend out her and Rowan's apartment so that they could truly see if they were ready for that big step.

Rowan was interested to see how it went (though his impassive face didn't exactly reveal it) and was fine with them making themselves feel as if it was their own place—except for the “no sex rule” he had given them (although he had reluctantly relented after the heavy scoffing he received—but only if they had sex in the bathtub and on top of their own towels and thoroughly cleaned the bathtub afterwards. Aelin, despite knowing Rowan as well as her the back of her hand, wasn't sure if the was kidding or not about it).

They listened and watched the waves in comfortable silence and Aelin found herself saying without any fear or doubt: “I was thinking, in the future, when we get married, we should have it on the beach.”

Rowan tensed, his arms tightened around her waist momentarily before loosening, and Aelin's heart both stopped in her chest and got stuck in her throat.

They were each others soulmates, they both knew that, but maybe talking about weddings was just too soon—they had only been dating for nine months (but that didn't seem too short of a time, since they moved in together after three and a half months).

“I knew you would find it, Aedion told me you would, I just didn't think it would be a week after I got it,” he chuckled. “I know you're the secret schemer in this relationship, but I thought I could at least give it a try.”

Now it was Aelin's turn to tense as she turned in Rowan's arms, his handsome tattooed face soft.

“Rowan,” Aelin said, her throat dry, “what are you talking about? What do you think I've found.”

The soft look that Aelin loved dropped like a stone and Rowan cleared his throat. “Nothing. I was talking about nothing.”

Aelin left the warmth of his embrace and faced him completely. Her heart was pounding and it had absolutely nothing to do with the iced caramel coffee she recently consumed.

“Rowan,” she tried again, “do you...do you have something you want to give me?”

“What? Nothing. I mean, I've got ideas of what to buy you over these next two weeks? Like books and gifts and manicures and pedicures and apparently there's sky-driving not far from us, and hiking and a buffet, but other than that, I've got nothing.”

Aelin's face broke into a wide smile at his yammering, he was flustered and it was a rare sight. “Buzzard.”

“Fireheart.”

Realising that maybe he had some grand plan, Aelin's smile dropped. “Have I ruined the surprise?”

“No, because I haven't told you if I've gotten you something.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Rowan, I think it's perfectly clear that you have something.” And Gods, was she dying to know what it looked like.

Rowan sighed and cupped her face in his hands and kissed her not once or twice but thrice. “Are you sure you didn't find it?”

“No. I might be a snoop in other people's lives but I refrain from doing any snooping in your life because of moments like this.”

“How kind of you.”

Aelin snorted and kissed him. “So?” Rowan raised a silver brow. “Can I see it?”

“No, because I am not pro—showing you what it is in a car park.”

Aelin's smiled showed up again, this one full of mischief. “Can I at least have a clue?”

“No.”

Sighing dramatically, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and calming. Rowan kissed the top her head and wrapped his arms around her.

“I know that I'm not much of a traditionalist, but did you ask for my parents blessing? I really don't wanna hear for the rest of my life of how you didn't ask them because it's the 'proper thing to do'.”

“I may have asked them, I'll give you the proper answer soon.”

Another snort left her and Aelin found herself contemplating. “Actually, I'm glad you haven't asked me today.”

“And why is that?” Rowan asked, giving up any pretense that he didn't have an engagement ring for her.

“Because I have coffee breath and I'm wearing leggings and one of your old shirts.”

“And Birkenstock sandals with socks on.”

Aelin playfully jabbed him. “So do you.”

Rowan kissed her again. “I'm looking forward to asking you.”

“You already know that my answer is yes, in case I haven't made it clear.”

“I know.”

X X X

When the time to officially ask Aelin to be his wife, Rowan asked her during the symphony as her favourite piece played in the background, the swirling notes joining in the music drifting in from the ocean.

Aelin squealed in delight when she finally saw the ring—a princess cut emerald with a gold band that suited her perfectly and said yes a hundred times before Rowan got a chance to properly say his speech, but neither of them wouldn't have it any other way.

It was her favourite gifts from their holiday, and she was pleased for her parents when her mother and father talked about how they were waiting everyday for the news ever since Rowan asked them face to face.

And on the way home, they made another stop at the beach, this time with Rowan confirming that a beach wedding would suit them wonderfully and got down on one knee to propose a second time in his Birkenstock sandals and socks, with Aelin wearing the same outfit the day their holiday started, laughing as he did so with her fiance's smile as bright as the sun behind them.

She let him know afterwards that she would still have said yes if he asked her that first day, and would say yes even if she was nothing but her birthday suit.

So he made a point to ask her that very night in their shower, her body covered in suds and Rowan’s silver hair falling in his eyes.

She still said yes, even as she rolled her eyes at his rare display of theatrics. 

#rowaelin #my work #rowaelin fanfiction

[zoyalannister]

tlh people are not good friends tbh

James doesnt give two shits of Christopher he is even embarrased of him at many points

Matthew is a drunk and no one bats an eye, I think only Lucie and Kit ever bring that up and thats it

Anna is a trainwreck and no one asks her if she is okay at any damn point, and that none of them went to her when she had Kit die in her arms, or when she saw Alexander almost being killed of in front of her

Lucie doesnt really care of the rest, and keeps so many secrets is tiring

Thomas never feels comfy to tell how he feels, damn he took years to come out

Its not a good friendship enviroment as CC wants us to believe

I second every word.

Most of the people who are against Gracetopher say it would have broken the Merry Thieves, but they’d never been that close in the first place.

Also, both James and Thomas always treated Christopher like an idiot, and in this book Thomas especially is condescent with Kit in a way it got me furious everytime he mentioned his name.

The Merry Thieves are only friends bc CC can't write realistic relationships.

No one cares about Anna whose brother died in her arms bc they are all too busy thinking about their love interest rather than about actual things.

Like literally James and Matt, who are alive, are mourned much more than Kit is mourned, so it's either CC who can't write or she's trying to tell us that they're shit friends.

Also Thomas and Matt should have drifted apart for the fact that Thomas is dating Alastair, but CC sorted out the whole matter in two lines bc she didn’t want to write about an actual conflict.

I agree with every word you said, anon.

[whileyouweredreaming]

from dream bitch (various dates, 2024)

March 11

Perfect Coriander

I dreamed that I was walking down the street with Lila and there was a barefoot hippie girl (petite, blond, maybe with dreads) banging away at something, it sounded like a guitar or stringed instrument. I asked if she was making guitars and Lila said no, strings. She wanted to ask if the girl was making “perfect coriander “ which was a type of method where one made two strings at once, strung in opposite directions and one had the black part underneath exposed. I asked if she wanted to ask the girl but she said she didn’t want to bother her bc she knew what it was like to be interrupted In public for working on something artistic.

March 9

Dreamed that Annabelle and James were at a restaurant where there was one specialty dish made just for you. They neglected to tell the waiter about their dietary restrictions. When the food arrived it was mystery meat. They asked what kind and the waiter said they didn’t know. Annabelle said “I don’t eat beef or sugar” and in the dream James was vegetarian.

March 1

Had a dream that I took over a room that Leah had been renting. It was way out in the sticks- like the equivalent of going to Staten Island, but I think it was the east bay.

One roommate was Tyler and the apartment was owned by an older Asian guy who lived next door.

I went there to sleep for the first time and immediately realized that the two hour bus ride commute was not going to work. I dreaded having to tell the roommates.

Later in the dream I was at a hotel where most people spoke German.

At some point I was maybe even at cafe 78, telling someone about the room but as i retold it I said that the room I was renting was actually behind a coffee shop !

Jan 22

Dreamed that I was invited to be in an art show here in Portland but it was also sort of the bay because Jessica drove me and when we got there for some reason she refused to come inside. My art piece was a photo, and I put it in the frame outside the gallery right when the opening was beginning. At the last minute Jessica told me I should put a different photo in so I did. Then she refused to come inside the gallery even though it was a lot to carry (my photo was in a large frame with real glass and I also had a portfolio of other photos.) At the end of the opening I realized embarrassed that I had put the wrong photo and as I took my photo down to switch it out, I told everyone what had happened. Everyone was drinking and no one cared. It was John James from secret room here in Portland. The photo I had put was of the inside of the gallery, during the opening?? The one Jessica had told me to put was a pic of the gallery from the outside.

My dad showed up and started talking to this one guy. He said “thanks for talking to me the other day, I really prefer phone calls over text!” I don’t know why they had talked on the phone. Then the guy told us about some place with Korean “sake tacos” and they were this fusion thing that was like quesabirria and I wanted to try some but that part of the dream ended just then.

Then I was in a store with some new hipster guy friend and he was picking out clothes for his girlfriend based on sight- he said he could tell if they would fit or not. I told him I usually try stuff on since r and I are similar sizes. In the back room of the vintage store we were at was a wall with a lot of recent crewels for sale, by local artists. None were appealing for the price.

Jan 18 (NSFW)

Dreamed I was talking about a series and everyone kept indicating that there was one really disgusting episode. I got to it one day - it was about a pair of men who suddenly realized they were into necrophilia because they worked as nurses and some of their patients died. These two men just happened to be roommates upstairs from the hospital they worked at. Their apartment was strewn with corpses eventually/ each of them had a “girlfriend” but then they got “mistresses” and then eventually they were so crazed that every time someone in their care was a vegetable they squirreled them back to the room.

Then they had scrambled to get the next person but he was really lucid and one of the nurses was very confused because the guy was assigned to him and he didn’t know how he would add him to the “collection.” Luckily the lucid guy, who was wheelchair bound, noticed a sign that the guy was a sicko- he had loose skin around his elbow with a black gaping hole, which was an indication that he was s*xually involved with unalive ppl.

In the end I woke up very freaked thinking that I had to spend the night in a shelter cot but I was pleased to find it was like a Miyazaki film.

Jan 6

Just dreamed that there was a needlepoint in the store that spelled out CREMPERS Cafe

[ssparksflyy]

Hi, I just saw that request are open so can you do a boyfriend headcanon with Jason Grace please?

ask and thou shall recieve ༉‧₊˚.

jason grace dating hcs! ✮⋆˙ pairing : jason grace x gn!reader warning(s) : none ♡ a/n : tysm for ur request <3! hope u enjoy thisss! also why the heck did it take me 20 mins to make that little pic collab bcs nothing was matching so i js went 'screw it' anyway, enjoy!

jason grace how i love u my sweet golden retriever boyfriend

im not even lying tho

ive got a golden and she's very affectionate and he'd literally be the same

absolutely loves being around you 24/7, 365

ive seen some ppl say jason is like kinda tense, like he was raised to be a fighter, his guard is always up, and like he builds just a few walls to keep himself safe

but nahh best believe those walls comin right down for you

he's only himself when he's with you !!

he literally feels so comfortable and trusts u with his life

definitely tells u EVERYTHING

ngl i think jason is chismoso asf

( gossiper , nosy )

BUT LIKE secretively

like ppl think he doesnt gaf so they just gossip all care free when he's around cause they think he wont tell anybody

but in reality he's super invested

so like after a long day when ur cuddled up in the zeus cabin he's not only telling u about his day but also updating u on the drama he's found out about

NOW IK that may seem ooc, but im telling you, the walls are coming DOWN for you

jason literally adores it when u play with his hair

like it really just calms him down, especially after a rough day

bro just melts 🫠

i think jason is like in between with pda

yes ofc he loves holding ur hand and hugging u

but theres def a difference from when ur around ppl and when ur alone

idk if that came out wrong

but he just feels more comfortable when its just u two

speaking of hand holding

he's literally a hand holding king

its literally just a habit at this point

i feel like he's a hands interlocked kinda guy

like hes just walks up to u, gives u a big ol smile ofc, and plop, slips his fingers in between urs. just like that. super casual abt it.

OH MY GOD IF U WEAR GLASSES

he literally intentionally makes u bump glasses when ur kissing

idk if that made sense i dont wear glasses

but he thinks its the funniest thing ever and laughs every time

lemme tell u somethin

literally even before u started dating

u haven't opened a single door while jason's around

even if ur like about to reach the door and he's a few feet away he'll literally sprint captain-america-on-ur-left style to open the door for u

and then stands there looking stupid after u give him a kiss on his cheek

never fails to be left absolutely dumbfounded after u kiss him

ur just that good 🤷‍♀️

probs also why he isnt the biggest on pda

he knows he'll never be allowed to forget how stupid he looks

HE LOVES SLEEPOVERS

winkity wonkty

but fr he makes them sm fun

starts a pillow fight but loses

A SUCKER for karaoke

nah cause why do i think he'd be like "omg lets play spin the bottle" and ur just like "jason.. it's only me and you" and hes all like "ur point??"

always ends his night with cuddles

ur literally his personal teddy bear sorry not sorry

ngl i don't think jason's a jewelry fella

but get this

matching converse

they dont even have to be converse they can literally be any shoes idk i just like converse

you guys got them custom made nd everything ouuuu

even tho he doesn't seem like he'd be too big on jewelry i feel like he has a silver necklace with ur initials on it

i want to wear his initial on his chain round my neck not because he owns me but cause he really knows me

he's always wearing it, wether its like under his shirt (CLOSER TO HIS HEARTTTT) or over it and shining proudly

def has a playlist just titled 'y/n' with a heart and its just a bunch of love songs that remind him of u ♡

he's literally so in love and makes sure u know that multiple times a day

where can i get me a jason grace :(

a/n pt.2: yoyoyo! what is up dhar man fans, i really hope you enjoyed that message- jk, seriously tho, i hope u enjoyed! i hope this is what u were looking for catalina! nd yea <3 idk if u can tell, but im literally obssesed with this blonde superman / peter pan / pikachu white boy so i was rlly happy to get this request :)) anyway, bye bye for now!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus #jason grace #jason grace x reader