#and finding out he���s actually hated the nickname all the time

[rosieswriting]

Barty Crouch Jr x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: After the birthday of your dear friend, Pandora Rosier, Barty doesn´t seem as bad as he did before

Note: I took one of the request of reader "tutoring" barty not knowing he doesn´t need it by @treefairy-28 thank youuuu. And english is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! And i will do a part 2 to where things get really interesting

Words: 3,2K

You’d always hated Barty Crouch Junior. Everything about him grated on your nerves—the way he spoke too loudly in class, yet still managed to top every exam; the infuriating pet names he used for you; his smug belief that being a Slytherin somehow made him superior, especially to Hufflepuffs like you. His walk, his talk—everything about him seemed designed to annoy you. Luckily, you’d always managed to ignore him. Until now.

You’d recently been paired with Pandora Rosier for a Potions project, and to your surprise, you’d quickly grown close. How had you not been friends before? She was sweet, caring, and easy to talk to—similar to you in so many ways. When her birthday rolled around, she invited you to a small celebration at the Three Broomsticks with her twin, Evan, and a few of his friends. Including him. You’d thought long and hard about it, knowing you’d have to deal with Barty, but in the end, you decided to go. After all, it was for Pandora, and you could always try to ignore him.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, busier than you’d expected. It seemed half of Hogwarts was out celebrating. Just as you were scanning the room, you heard Pandora’s cheerful voice calling your name.

“Happy Birthday!” you said warmly, pulling her into a hug and handing her a small box containing a silver necklace.

Pandora’s eyes lit up as she opened it. “Oh, I love this! Thank you so much,” she beamed, hugging you again. “Come on, we’re over here.”

She led you through the crowded room toward a cozy corner table. And, of course, as you approached, you saw Evan Rosier, Regulus Black and Barty leaning back in his chair, already watching you with that familiar smirk.

“Hi” you mumbled a bit shyly to the slytherin as you sat next to Pandora, and to your luck, Barty was seated right in front of you. Regulus and Evan gave you a slight nod of acknowledgment and continue their conversation.

“Look who decided to join us” Barty teased raising his eyebrows “Dindt think you would show up, Treasure”

“Barty” Pandora said with a warning tone to his friend, trying to shut him up. But he only raised his hands in self innocence and exuse himself with a poor “just trying to start a conversation”

“I wouldn’t miss Dora´s birthday just because I have to deal with you, Junior” you said with a fake sweet smile to him.

“Deal with me? You wound me Badger” he said and you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“If its any consolation, im actually impressed that your ego managed to fit through the door” is the last thing you say before turning to talk to Pandora and ignore him.

You and your blonde friend talk for some time, she telling you about how her birthday has been and all the presents she got. At some point you start to get thirsty.

“Im gonna ask for something to drink, ill be right back” you say kindly as you stand up from the chair.

“I’ll go with you” you hear Barty says as he stands up as well.

“Great” you whisper under your breath as you start to make your way to the bar, him following behind you.

You ordered a butterbeer, and Barty, naturally, ordered the same, positioning himself so close that his shoulder brushed against yours. The warm, subtle contact sent an unexpected flutter through you, though you tried to ignore it.

“I must admit,” he began, leaning down just enough to speak directly into your ear, “when Evan told us Dora would invite you, my expectations for tonight went up higher.”

“Good for you,” you muttered, turning to face him with an eye roll, only to find his face so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek. You quickly turned your gaze forward again, pretending to study the bottles lined up behind the bar. He chuckled, catching the slight blush that had crept up your cheeks “When Dora mentioned you were coming, I almost declined her invitation” you continued, doing your best to sound unfazed

 “If you say so. But, can I just say, you show up here looking like this, put me in my place with that sweet, sassy voice of yours… you’re killing me here.”

Despite yourself, you feel warmth creeping up your cheeks.  Thankfully, the bartender hands you both your drinks before you have to answer. You turn to make your way back to the table, but Barty steps in front of you, forcing you to stop short as he smirks down at you, close enough that you catch the faintest spark in his gaze.

“You know, I think you secretly like driving me a little mad,” he murmurs, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It’s cute, really—seeing you pretend to be so above it all.”

“Pretend?” you scoff, raising an eyebrow as you try to sidestep him. “Trust me, Junior, I’m not pretending anything.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, following you smoothly, keeping pace as you try to dodge around him. “Then explain why you look so flustered.”

“I’m not—” You stop, realizing he’s caught you, the faint blush on your cheeks betraying you. You try to shrug it off, holding your head high. “In your dreams, Junior”

He grins, leaning in close enough that his voice is a murmur just for you. “Oh, Treasure. In my dreams we are doing more than talking. Belive me”

You huffed, finally brushing past him and making your way back to the table. “Idiot,” you muttered, though you couldn’t ignore the faint thrill left in the air.

Sliding back into your seat next to Pandora, you tried to steady yourself as she happily dove back into conversation, thankfully distracting you from the lingering heat in your cheeks and Barty’s lingering gaze across the table.

As the night wore on, you and the slytherins stepped out of the warm, bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks into the chilly night air. The sharp bite of winter nipped at your skin, making you shiver as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to keep warm. You hadn’t brought a jacket and now you were regretting it.

Pandora was chatting animatedly with Evan and Regulus, blissfully unaware of your growing discomfort. Barty walked alongside you, his familiar smirk already playing on his lips. You knew he was about to make a comment, and you braced yourself.

Without warning, Barty slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tightly around you before you had the chance to protest. “Here, wear this,” he said, his voice low and smooth, ignoring your startled expression. “You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”

You blinked at him, flustered. “You don´t have to-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Please, like I’d let you suffer while I stand here all warm and toasty.” He chuckled. “You show up looking all stunning, and I won’t let you ruin it by turning into an icicle.”

Your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture, the warmth of his jacket enveloping you like a shield. You tried to regain your composure, shivering slightly as you adjusted the jacket to fit more snugly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your charity, Junior.” You weren´t willing to give up that easily.

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Charity?” he teased, falling into step beside you again, his grin infuriatingly charming. “I thought it was more of a gentlemanly move, if you will.”

“Gentlemanly? You?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

“Why so skeptical? I can be quite the gentleman when the mood strikes me,” he said, leaning in closer again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides, I can’t have my favorite Hufflepuff catching a cold now, can I?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at his words, and you tried to deflect, “You’re just doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “But I also happen to enjoy the view when you’re flustered. You should see your face right now. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” You repeated incredulously, fighting the urge to smile. “You really think you’re charming, don’t you?”

He leaned back slightly, feigning deep thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say charming. More like irresistible.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you shot him a glare. “Keep dreaming, Junior.”

“Trust me, I will,” he shot back with that devil-may-care grin.

Pandora turned to you both, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh my gosh, you two are so cute! You’re practically flirting!” she gushed, completely unaware of your desire to bury your face in your hands.

“Flirting?” you exclaimed, turning to Barty in disbelief. “This isn’t flirting; it’s sheer torture!”

Barty chuckled, his gaze locked on yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Torture? Maybe I’ll have to keep it up then. Can’t have you getting too comfortable, can we?”

As you walked back to Hogwarts, you could feel the weight of his jacket around your shoulders, and though you’d never admit it, the warmth was more than just physical. Despite the banter and the bickering, you couldn’t shake the flutter in your stomach. Barty Crouch Junior might drive you mad, but maybe—just maybe—there was something nice about having him around after all.

You arrive to Hogwarts and everyone makes their way to their common room, the boys to Slytherin´s, Pandora to Ravenclaw´s and you to Hufflepuff´s. You get into your dorm quietly, because even if it was a Friday night, your roomates were sleeping.

As you began to undress, you suddenly realized you still had Barty’s jacket draped over your shoulders. Great, you thought with an eye roll. Now I have to see him again. You sighed, folding it neatly and placing it in your wardrobe alongside your other clothes.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and change into your pajamas, you settled into bed. The comfort of your blankets enveloped you, but no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the memory of Barty's teasing grin lingered in your mind.

You hated that the last thought before sleep was that goddamn smirk of his—so infuriating yet somehow captivating. With a frustrated huff, you turned over, determined to banish thoughts of him, but the image of his charming arrogance persisted, a playful reminder of the night’s events.

You woke up the next day, the soft sunlight filtering through the windows of your dormitory. The quiet of the weekend morning was a welcome contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of school life. You moved through your routine slowly, knowing you had no classes to rush to today. After freshing up, you dressed casually and made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You decided to take Barty´s jacket with you, so you could return it as soon as possible.

And thanks to Merlin, when you enter the Great Hall you immediately spotted him at the Slytherin table with his friends. You wave at your own friends and make them a signal to wait for you as you approached the green table, your friends staring at you like you had gone crazy.

“Junior” you call out softly from behind him.

Barty´s head whipped around, his grin widening when he saw you “Treasure!” his voice was full of amusement as he looked you up and down “Miss me alredy?”

You rolled your eyes and extended his jacket over him “Im here to return this, and to say thank you again” even if he was insufferable, you were always polite.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased by your words, as he took the jacket from you “You know, I was hoping you would keep it for longer. You did look amazing in it. Not that I didn’t like you in your top, of course”

You felt the heat increasing in your cheeks at his words but try to hide it with a scoff, your hands instinctively moving to fold your arms across your chest. “Whatever” you muttered, stepping back and already starting to turn away “Goodbye”

Some days later you were sitting with your friends in the courtyard, laughing as you discussed the latest mishap in Potions class, when you noticed a familiar figure making his way toward you. Barty Crouch Jr, in all his swagger, had that unmistakable smirk as he approached your small circle, his eyes already fixed on you.

"Treasure," he greeted smoothly, nodding to your friends before focusing entirely on you. "Got a minute?"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback that he’d be seeking you out in broad daylight, in front of witnesses no less. “Depends. What do you want, Junior?”

He chuckled, unfazed by your tone. "Pandora said you’re somewhat of an expert in Magical Creatures. Thought maybe you could help a struggling Slytherin with a few... basics.”

Your friends exchanged glances, one of them biting back a smile as they elbowed each other. You tried to ignore it, focusing on Barty. “Struggling?” you echoed, skeptical. “You’re one of the top students. Why do you need my help?”

He shrugged, managing to look both innocent and mischievous. “Call it an off week. I could use some extra guidance.”

One of your friends couldn’t resist chiming in, “Are you sure you don’t just want to copy her notes, Barty?”

“Oh, I’d love to copy,” he said, giving you a pointed look, “but I think I’d learn more if we… studied together. Say, this afternoon?”

“Fine,” you said, ignoring the snickers from your friends. “The library at six?”

“Or my room?” he suggested, not missing a beat. “Much quieter. Comfier too.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your friends burst into laughter. “Nice try. The library will do just fine.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning disappointment. “Heartbreaking, really. I was hoping for a more… private lesson.”

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for learning in public,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “See you at six, Junior.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his smirk widening.

With that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving your friends barely containing their laughter.

“Oh, Merlin,” one of them said as soon as he was out of earshot, “did Barty Crouch Jr. just ask you for a tutoring session?”

You sighed, trying not to show the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “Apparently. And he’d better actually need help with Magical Creatures.”

But even as you turned back to your conversation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this “study session” was going to be anything but ordinary.

That evening, you made your way to the library with a stack of notes on magical creatures and a determination to focus—no matter how distracting your “student” might try to be. When you arrived, you saw Barty lounging at a back table, idly flipping through a book that looked suspiciously unrelated to magical creatures.

“Good, you’re here,” he said with a grin as you sat down. “I was starting to think you’d stand me up.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat in front of him “Almost did” you mumble under your breath as you opened your book and notes. The library was quiet as you huddled over a hefty tome on magical creatures, quills and parchment spread across the table between you. It seemed like he was genuinely focused—or at least, he pretended to be.

“Alright, Junior” you said, pointing to a section in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, “why don’t you tell me everything you know about hippogriffs?”

He gave you a thoughtful look, scratching his chin as if deep in concentration. “Hmm… majestic creatures, proud, can be very dangerous if approached incorrectly… does that sound right?”

You tilted your head, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you do know about them, after all. That’s a decent start.”

“Well, I have the basics,” he said with a little grin, “but I wouldn’t call myself an expert. That’s where you come in, Treasure.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, nudging the book closer to him. “Alright, fine. Hippogriffs are proud, but there’s more to them than that. They’re highly sensitive and require respect—bowing to them before approaching is essential.”

He nodded, trying to keep a straight face, though you could tell he was amused. “Bowing. Got it. Sort of like dealing with you, isn’t it? Respect, admiration…”

You huffed, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Keep it up, and I’ll leave you to fend for yourself next time we have a test.”

“Anything but that,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t fade. “You’re far too charming when you’re lecturing me on magical creatures.”

You ignored him and went over a few more creatures, each time finding him surprisingly attentive. He asked questions—good ones, actually—and seemed engaged in a way you hadn’t expected. You started to think maybe he genuinely did want to learn more about the subject.

As the library began to empty, you glanced at the time. “We should probably get some dinner before the house-elves clear the tables,” you said, gathering your notes.

You started to walk to the Great Hall, still in conversation about the finer points of bowtruckles, when something slipped out from under his arm and fluttered to the ground. You instinctively bent down to pick it up, and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the parchment. It was an essay titled “The Lifecycle of Thestrals” with “A” scrawled at the top in red ink. The neat handwriting and the perfectly structured points left no doubt: Barty had known exactly what he was doing in Care of Magical Creatures all along.

You blinked, looking from the essay to Barty, who wore a guilty-but-unbothered grin.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t need my help at all, did you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, his smirk widening.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Unbelievable. So you wasted my time?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Come on, can you really blame me?” His eyes held that familiar glint. “When Pandora mentioned you were the go-to expert on magical creatures, I knew I couldn’t miss the chance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a few hours with someone as pretty as you, Treasure?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away, trying not to let him see how flustered you felt. “You are unbelievable,” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Unbelievably charming? I’ll take it,” he said, grinning as you approached the Great Hall. “I had a great time, by the way. Maybe next time, we can have a... more private study session.”

He threw you a wink before sauntering off toward the Slytherin table, leaving you standing there, cheeks flushed, speechless, and—if you were being honest with yourself—a bit confused. Because somehow, despite his insufferable arrogance, the idea of spending more time with him didn’t sound half as annoying as you’d expected.

[pupkashi]

boyfriend!yuta headcanons

a/n: i have been having major yuta brainrot as of late ,, here u guys go ! i hope these are too badly ooc seeing as though I’ve only written for him a couple times ! they’re a bit all over the place so plz lmk what y’all think :3

wordcount: 1,183

masterlist

first things first this boy is an absolute nervous wreck anytime he’s around you before he asks you out, I’m talking stuttering and fumbling over his words, looking anywhere but you, trying his best to not embarrass himself (he inevitably does poor guy)

asks you out when it’s just the two of you, on a picnic or watching a movie, his palms are sweaty because what if he just hallucinated you saying you liked him back and this is a big mistake??

okok this boy would definitely wear those ‘i love my s/o’ shirts, starts off as a joke, then wears it unironically because yeah, he does love you, what about it??

the biggest simp in the world yall, does anything you want him to, buys you whatever you want whenever you want it, you tell him jump he’s asking how high while already jumping

it’s a serious problem, considering you now have to make it clear that just because you say something is nice doesn’t mean you want it

“this sweater is nice right yuu?” “yeah it is really nice” ,,,, “yuta why do you have two bags?” “i got you the sweater in every color you like :3”

you’re always getting packages at your door, handing them to him only for him to say ‘oh that’s actually for you!’

the worst part of this is he absolutely hates when you get him something, always telling you to spend your money on yourself or save it, saying he has everything he needs already

still accepts your gifts with open arms, over the moon because ‘you really thought of me ?? i love you :(‘ he literally is ‘🥺’ if it was a person

calls you every sweet nickname he can think of: baby, babe, sweetheart, darling, my love, honey (he tends to favor my love and darling)

you tend to call him things like: baby, lover, pretty boy, angel

he turns into an absolute blushing mess when you call him pretty boy and angel, giggling and trying to not forget what he was talking to you about in the first place

the kind of boyfriend who will buy you flowers weekly, no matter what.

ever since he overheard you on the phone talking about how much you loved his ‘just because’ flowers, he made it a reoccurring purchase at a local flower shop

gets you all your favorite snacks when he just so happens to stop by at a convenience store, handing them to you with a happy grin, ‘we can have movie night with snacks now!’

has your coffee order memorized before you guys even started dating, rarely asks if you want some, usually just surprises you with it <3

he is such a homebody boyfriend :( prefers calm and cozy nights in sipping on hot chocolate cuddles in warm blankets over going out

takes you out to nice restaurants though !! especially if you like going out, he’ll take you on all kinds of dates

goes ice skating, amusement parks, the fair, laser tag (you destroyed him), escape rooms, literally everything

at restaurants if you’re between two things to order he’ll get one of the ones you want so you get try both :3

if you don’t like what you ordered he’ll swap with you / will tell you to order something different, saying he’ll take the other plate home and eat it tomorrow so you don’t feel bad abt it <3

LOVES going grocery shopping with you </3 finds it so domestic and lovely to be able to pick you celery with you (he also gets excited when you ask him what he wants to eat so you can get the stuff for it)

he’ll always tell you he wants to bake cookies and other treats with you, grabbing all the ingredients and grinning at you sheepishly when the cart starts to get full

“we came here for four things, how did you manage to make me get all these things” “cause you love me” he giggles

giggles at everything you say !!!!! topples over laughing when you tell a joke (we get it bro you love us 😭)

it’s so easy to make him blush and flustered, literally just winking at him makes his brain short circuit (let’s not get started on when you two make out) (he whimpers 🤭)

has pictures of you as his lockscreen, always smiles a bit when he unlocks his phone, when he’s away on missions he finds himself checking the time more often than he really needs to

AMAZING TEXTER !!!!! will reply to you very quickly and address all your messages and reacts to all the things you send him (everyone is amazed because is this the same yuta who left them on deliver red for three days before replying ??)

he is SO the jealous type ,, he tries not to be, really he hates having negative emotions of any kind, but he can’t help it :(

his entire demeanor changed drastically when someone starts flirting with you, he’s standing up straighter, clenching his jaw and has that threatening look on his face, no sign of the once cheerful and bubbly boy

he’s wrapping an arm around you, tugging on your hand and trying to get you alone so he can make out with you and remind both you and himself that you’re only his <33

insanely protective of you !!! he’ll be holding your hand in public, always making sure he knows where you are, in crowded areas he has one hand on your waist to help you through the crowds <33

will obliterate anyone who even tries to threaten you, ‘look at them again and you’ll be wishing i had killed you’ but in a not creepy and actually very 🦋way yk ?

really listens to you and everything you have to say, asking questions about your interests and genuinely loves listening to you talk about the things you like <3

i know he gets u literally everything but he gives you amazing and thoughtful gifts for special occasions !! he manages to always get you perfect gifts every single time <3

he compliments you everyday without fail, no matter where he is in the world, he will ALWAYS tell you how stunning you look !!!

reminds you everyday how much he loves you, telling you and leaving you little notes, writes you love letters like he’s away at war even though he’s most likely to get back before the letter even ships

cooks you dinner when he has the chance (he’s actually a pretty good cook!!) going all the way with wine (if you drink of course) and roses

uses your shampoo and conditioner sometimes because he just loves the way they smell and they remind him so much of u hehe

has your skincare routine memorized to when you’re too exhausted to do it he can do it for you <3

he’s overall just a soft and sweet lover, doing anything and everything he can for you because he knows you’re the one for him <33

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

The Harder I Fall (M)

★  PAIRING: Toxic Ex! Haechan x Toxic?Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 9.5K

★ GENRE(S): Smut, Angst, Drama, Ex2Lover

☆ SUMMARY: You find it hard to return to your normal day-to-day life after you break up with your ex, Haechan. He makes it his duty to make your life a living hell in order to see you. You're not sure why you thought it would be a good idea to date your cute punk rock neighbor, but you are soon to regret it.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Swearing. Various acts of sexual intercourse. Unprotected sex. Unwanted creampie. Dubcon. Spit. Light choking, Brief mention of drinking. Kinda manipulation on hyuck’s part to get readers attention? Reader got commitment issues. Probably a bad description of punk rock band idk brah. MDNI

☆★ NOTES: this is the final installment of THE POISON ARCHIVES, this one is not as toxic as the other ones but still has toxic elements so beware 

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.::･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.::･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.::･ﾟ✧

♫₊˚."Rehashing these feelings Swallowing the pain"♫₊˚.

You don't know why you thought it was a good idea to date someone who lives in the same apartment complex as you. You wish you would have thought this through when you said yes to your next-door neighbor's proposal when he suggested that you two start dating. Because now that you two have broken up, you are stuck seeing him every day.

When you return from work, you can never seem to avoid him, always catching him on the way up to your apartment. If that wasn't awkward enough, you have to listen to him bring girls home every other night. You don't think your relationship ended on bad terms, but he thinks differently. You know he does because on the nights when he doesn't have someone screaming his name, a constant reminder of the person you want to forget, he is blasting music at frequencies you can't drown out. Ever since you two broke up, your ex-boyfriend Haechan has been a pain in the ass. He makes it his duty to make your life a living hell. He knows your schedule, so he knows exactly when to bother you. Tonight is one of those nights. You had come from work late as usual, and all you wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep.

Not on Haechan’s watch

Haechan is blasting old 90s rock music when you're walking up the stairs to your apartment. You internally groan as you fish out your keys from your pocket, unlocking your door, and you try to stay positive. Today has been a good day for you so far, and you wanted to keep it that way.

"At Least he doesn't have someone over," you think in return. You would much rather listen to old rock music than some random girl's high-pitched moaning and the repeated banging of the headboard against the wall. Sometimes you wonder if that's what your other neighbors had to go through when you and Haechan were together. You head for the shower and pray that by the time you get out, he's getting ready for bed. It's already 12 a.m.; he should be tired by now.

The reason you and Haechan were able to get close in the first place was because you both were night owls. You both worked late and always returned home at the same time. You would catch him in the parking lot as you two made your way home. Sometimes he would invite you over, and you two would talk about work and whatever else crossed your mind at 1 a.m. Through these late-night convos You found out that Haechan was just his nickname; your handsome neighbor's name was actually Donghyuk. You also learned that he was in a band that primarily made its income through gigs at bars and other small venues, and that Haechan was the name he used on stage. Although everyone called him Haechan, you thought his real name was cute and couldn't help but give him a nickname based on it. When you first started calling him Hyuck, he hated it, but it grew on him. You enjoyed your late-night chats with Haechan, and you wanted to see more of him, so when one night he asked you out on a date, you couldn't say no. After that, you two started to see each other more often and began to date.

You were in a relationship with Haechan for five months before you broke up with him. You were having to work a lot more overtime to pay the bills, and you just didn't have time for a relationship anymore. You thought Haechan would understand and that things would be cool between you two, but obviously not.

After you exited the shower, his music was still blasting, and you could practically feel the bass rattling your bones. How has he not been evicted by now? Did your other neighbors just not have ears, or maybe yours were just too sensitive? You wrap yourself securely in your robe and march over to his doorstep. You bang on his door repeatedly for at least a minute before he answers. Haechan swings the door open, meeting your gaze with one that matches your level of annoyance. How dare he act like you're inconveniencing him when he's the one keeping the entire neighborhood awake!

"I know you're a struggling artist and all, but you at least own a clock, right?" You deadpan with a quirk of your eyebrow.

"Of course I do. How else would I know what time to piss you off?" He smiles sarcastically.

You absolutely hate this little back-and-forth that you have going on with him. You know he does this to get your attention so that you come charging over here and bang down his door. He just wants to see you, and you hate to give him what he wants, but you know it's the only way to get him to turn down the music.

"Pls Hyuck I have work tomorrow, and it's late. I just want to sleep," you plead with him exasperatedly.

"What do I get in return?" He asks, looking down at you through his bangs. He must have just finished a show because his eyes were still smothered in smokey black liner.

"I won't file a noise complaint; It's my third one this week. Didn't the landlord say they would kick you out if I complained again?" He knows they're empty threats, but he's gotten what he wanted, so he lets them go.

"Since you asked so nicely. I'll do it just this once," he says, shutting the door in your face, and in the next few seconds, the music is lowered to a bearable hum through the walls. Once you play his little game, he's always kind enough to reward you, as he always has. When you return home and find it quiet enough to sleep.

Haechan knew the first thing you would do when the two of you broke up was try to avoid him at all costs, but he wasn't going to let that happen. He's always making excuses to have to see you. Sometimes, when he's not at home and he knows you will be, he asks you to grab a package for him or groceries that he ordered so that you can bring them to him later. Other times he will knock on your door, asking to borrow a few eggs or your hammer—anything he can think of that he knows you have. You have already come to accept the fact that you can't get rid of him, but that doesn't stop you from trying.

It's been a few days since the music incident, and miraculously, you haven't seen him around. Lately, you can hear him getting home just a few minutes ahead of you. He must have been too tired to bother you lately; either that or he's matured past his little pranks. You think tonight is another night that you're in the clear. When you arrive home, you don't see Haechan’s car in the parking lot. You don't want to run into him, so you rush up the stairs to your apartment. You giddyly look for your house keys, thinking you finally got one over on him, when you realize they are missing from your keyring. The keyring is old and bent out of shape, so the key must have slipped off during the day. You were horrified; you were beyond tired and in desperate need of a nice warm shower. You let out a huff of annoyance. You could stay at your friend's house for the night, but she lives 30 minutes away, and you don't think you can get behind the wheel of a car without immediately driving off the nearest cliff.

You were already having a rough day, and this was the icing on the cake. Before you can wrack your brain for a solution, an even bigger problem presents itself. Haechan returns home with his bass strapped to his back and his hair a wild mess. He must have returned from band practice, probably getting into another fight with one of his members. He meets your eyes with a tired smile.

"You look like shit," you comment before you can stop yourself.

"I think you meant hello; how was your day?" He rolls his eyes as he reaches his door. He begins fishing his keys out of his jacket pocket when he turns to you again. "Why are you sitting here?" he questions with a quirk of a brow.

"I think the air is fresher during this time," you say mockingly.

 "Oh really? Well, have fun with that princess," he smirks as he finally unlocks his door, letting himself inside.

He leaves you outside. Curse you and your big mouth. Would it kill you to be nice? You really didn't want to ask, but you really had no choice. You worked a double shift today, and your body was on the brink of collapse. You knew what he wanted; he wanted you to come crawling to him for a favor so he could hold it over your head, and you really didn't want to give into his games, but just like always, you had no choice. After 10 minutes of contemplation, you knock on his door softly. A few seconds pass before he opens the door.

"What? Is the air not fresh enough?" He mocks, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Look, I'm sorry for earlier, but I'm locked out, and today has not been my day. Can I stay over?" You plead. 

Hmm, maybe you should ask a little nicer, and I'll consider it. '' That bastard was definitely getting a kick out of this. What was his redeeming quality again?

"Please, hyuck, just do me this one favor; I promise I'll pay you back." You gritted your teeth.

"You better keep your promise," he says as he opens the door wider for you to come in. "You already know where everything is to make yourself comfortable; I'm gonna hop in the shower." He leaves you to go grab what he needs as you take off your shoes to follow him to his room.

You sat your things down on the nightstand by his bed. "I don't mind sharing a bed with you; just stay on your side, get it?" You look at him with an accusatory glare.

Haechan raises his hands in defense with a smile as he walks backwards into the bathroom. He doesn't say anything more and shuts the door behind him. You busy yourself and go through his drawers to find a comfy shirt and a pair of his boxers. You grab a towel from the towel closet and wait your turn for the shower. You scroll on your phone as you wait. When Haechan finally exits, he's wearing a plain white shirt and his boxers. Even in the simplest of clothes, he looks so good. You distract yourself with your phone again, hoping he doesn't catch you staring at him as he dries his hair in the mirror.

"Did you leave me some hot water?" you question, knowing that he probably used it all just to get on your nerves. He always liked it when you got angry at him.

"Of course, what kind of host would I be if I didn't?" he says as he plops down next to you on the bed. "I also thought of a way you can repay me," he says, looking up at you with a smug look on his face.

"If it's something perverted, absolutely not," you say as you stand to get in the shower.

"It's innocent, I promise," he laughs.

You don't hear him as you shut yourself inside his bathroom, turning on the water. You knew Haechan’s definition of innocence was definitely far from normal. This wasn't good. Sleeping in the same bed as your ex? Especially one that loves tormenting you, was not a smart move. You knew he was up to no good the moment you saw him come up the stairs. He looked tired, but as soon as he laid eyes on you, you could see a fire ignite behind them.

You finish freshening up and sport the clothes you stole from his drawer. When you join him on the bed, he's scrolling on his phone. When he lowers his phone and stares at you with a quirked eyebrow, you finally take notice of how close you were to him. It was a force of habit. Your body was just naturally drawn to him like a magnet. You scoot back a bit with a sheepish smile and a nervous laugh. He sets his phone down and shakes his head. He reaches over, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

"You know better than to run from me, love," he smirks.

Him and that stupid smirk! It was like it was permanently etched onto his stupidly smug face. The stupidly smug face that you fell in love with—the stupidly smug face you're trying so hard not to kiss

"Don't call me that," you hesitantly whisper.

"But you get to call me Hyuk?" He retaliated. He rests his forehead against yours while you hold eye contact.

He had a point; it wasn't fair that you got to call him your favorite nickname when you two were together, but he couldn't. It just felt too intimate to you, though.

"Should I call you Haechan?" You start, but he cuts you off.

"Can we just stay like this? Just for tonight, can you let me pretend that you're mine again?" he whispers, a breath away from your face. He didn't mind you calling him Hyuck; it was the only proof he had left that you still loved him. If you called him Haechan, he had nothing else to hold onto.

"I don't think that's a good idea." You hesitate.

"Please, you owe me, remember? Let me just hold you like this just for tonight." Haechan is often one to make jokes, but at this moment he is as serious as ever.

You sigh in defeat. Owing Haechan a favor is never good, but this was a pretty tame request for him. You just didn't know the effect it might have on your heart later. As usual, you ignore the possible consequences and agree. He leans in and pecks the corner of your mouth, holding his lips there for a second longer than necessary.

"Hey, you said we would only cuddle!" You reprimanded him.

"Let me have just a little more, ok? I promise I'll be good to you from now on. No more loud music," he bargains.

You should have known he would have been content with just cuddling. Haechan was always an affectionate lover, and he always needed to feel all of you to be satisfied. His pecks trail from your cheek to your jaw, and when they reach your neck, they blossom into kisses. At this point, you're breathless and squirming. His arm that was around your waist unwraps itself, so he can use his hand to massage your lower back. His slow, passionate kisses turn wet and sloppy when he grabs your ass. He can't help the groan that escapes his mouth at the feeling. At this point, you wanted to feel more of him. You knew he wouldn't touch you like you wanted, though, Not until you asked. Even when he was the one who started it, he couldn't help but have you begging for him.

He pushes your shirt up past your chest as His kisses move lower, leaving hickeys in his wake. You try to hold on; you really do, but when he ventures even lower to leave kisses near your navel and then to the tops of your thighs, you crack.

"Hyuck… just a little more."

"Just a little more?" He repeats your words back to you. You bite your lip and nod your head. "You want me to touch you more, pretty? I thought we were only going to cuddle?" He questions spreading your legs so he can lay between them.

"Just a little farther; it's ok if we go just a little bit farther," you relent.

"If that's what my princess wants," Haechan pulls your shorts swiftly from your core and settles back down. He looks into your eyes once more to make sure it was really okay, and when you let out a moan and buck your hips into his face, he knows you can't bear to wait any longer. Haechan licks a fat stripe from the heat of your core to your clit and showers it in gentle kisses.

"Please... more," you cry.

"So greedy!" Haechan tsks at you and finally sucks your clit into his mouth.

He can't hold himself back anymore and begins to eat you out like he really means it, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you down. He's making a mess as he spits onto your pussy, adding to the slickness. Before you know it, he's fucking his tongue deep into you, moaning at the taste. Your chest is heaving at this point, and you can't help but grab his hair and try to fuck his face. You roll your hips deep into his mouth, practically riding his nose as it bumps against you, clit at your movements.

He pulls away, and before you can even moan out a complaint, he's bringing two fingers to your entrance and slowly penetrates you with them, holding eye contact as he hums a sound of approval at how well you take his fingers. He licks his lips clean as he fucks his fingers into you faster. You pull his hair again, but this time you're pulling him up so you can kiss him. It's the first real kiss you've shared since the breakup, and it's all teeth and tongue as he's knuckle-deep in your pussy. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue. He pulls away to look at you with heavy lids; a single string of saliva connects you and breaks when he licks his lips.

"You gonna let me fuck you, baby?"

"Hyuck, we really shouldn't be doing this," you slur.

"Just the tip, I promise."

"You also promised just cuddles."

"We are cuddling, extreme cuddling, '' he jests. You've already crossed the line with him, so what's the harm in indulging a little more?

"Just the tip," you say with a nod, pulling him into another messy kiss.

You pull off his shirt and push his boxers down past his hips, and he takes them off the rest of the way. His length slaps against his stomach in all of its glory, and you know you're fucked. There's no way you'll be satisfied with just the tip. You haven't had him in so long, and he's so long. He always made sure to fuck you so that you’d never forget the feeling. He filled you up just right and knew how to make sure you felt every inch of him. He guides his tip to your entrance and coats it in your slick, letting it trail up and down your slit, prodding your entrance. He lazily thrusts forward, making his length slip up and nudging you clit. He did this a few more times, knowing it would drive you up a wall. You wrap your legs around his waist, threatening to pull him closer.

"Just the tip, baby, remember?" He reminds you that you're the one who suggested this stupid idea in the first place.

You shoot him a glare, and before you can choose the right words to verbally abuse him, he's sliding in. He keeps his work and just fucks his tip into you, using his hand to act as a barrier so he couldn't slip father into you. He pushes in, and when he pulls out, he smacks the head of his cock against your pussy creating a wet sound from how drenched you are. He repeats it a couple of times before fucking his tip back into you.

You notice that the longer he fucks you, the lower his hand slides down his cock as he sneakily fucks more into you with each thrust. You don't even think he notices because, when you look up at him, his lip is caught between his teeth. He looks like he's concentrating so hard to not slip more. After a few more thrusts, his hand is gone completely, and he's fucking deep into you.

"You liar," you smile. You knew he couldn't do it from the beginning, but you admire his perseverance. You reward him by clamping your walls down on him. He lets out a shaky whine and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," and the look he gives you genuinely reflects remorse, but not because of what he did but because of what he's about to do.

He roughly unhooks your legs from around his waist and manhandles you onto your arms and knees just to shove you down onto your chest so that your ass is the only thing stuck in the air. He reenters swiftly and fucks you from behind. He's snapping his hips deep into you; it's almost too much. You reach your hand back to rest on his hips, and he grabs onto it and pins it to your lower back.

"Come on love, I know you can take it; fuck me like you mean it," he groans.

He's almost as fucked out as you are; no one else can ever make him feel like you do. He struggles to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head when you fuck back into him with a vengeance. He told you to fuck him, so you do. You throw your hips back into him so hard that he stops moving. He's trying his hardest to pull himself together, but all he can do is take it. Mouth agape as he moans at the feeling. You think you might have gotten the upper hand on him, but then he pulls out of you and flips you back onto your back, throwing a leg over his shoulder as he starts hitting deep again. At this point, he's gone. He's completely pussy drunk, and you can't see a thought behind his eyes as he drills into you.

 "Hyuck.. Don't forget to pull out," you moan, barely able to catch your breath.

If he can hear you, he sure doesn't show it; his pace doesn't let up, and he's pressing a hand against your lower stomach. He can feel himself inside of you and can only moan. Any previous worries you had are completely wiped from your mind as you tighten around him and release all over his cock. He fucks you through it, and when you meet his eyes again, you know he's about to cum. His brows are furrowed, and he's biting his lip so hard that you're surprised he hasn't drawn blood.

"Hyuck. Pull. out," you try to say sternly, but it comes out as more of a whine as the overstimulation sets in. Haechan shakes his head as his grip on your waist tightens. He can't think straight when you feel this good. At this point, he can't even control his moans as they spill out. He's close, and you do the only thing you can think of to snap him out of it.

You slapped him across the face.

You think you may have brought him back down to earth, but when he lets out a high-pitched moan, you know you're screwed, and not in a fun way. His hips stutter, and he's releasing deep inside you, hiding his face in the crock of your neck as he tries to ride out his high. Every weak thrust is accompanied by a pained moan from him as he continues to fuck you.

"No more hyuck!" You scold him and push on his shoulders. You pull his head back by his hair so he can meet your eyes. "Pull out," you glare.

He knows he messed up and finally pulls out. When he rolls over next to you, you slap and pinch his arms and chest.

"You're unbelievable! Just the tip, my ass!" You yell at him, and he's trying to roll away from you on the bed, but you follow him, continuing your assault.

"I'm sorry I got too carried away; I couldn't resist. Don't worry, I'll buy you a plan B first thing in the morning," he says with a flinch each time you attack him. You finally settle down with a huff and lay facing away from him.

"I know your memory sucks, but remember this was a one-time thing; after tonight we go back to normal," you mumble.

Haechan scoots closer to you and lays a soft kiss on your shoulder. Well, then let me savor this moment," he says in a whisper that you almost don't catch. He pulls you back into his chest and warps you up in his body, and you let him. As much as you want to be mad at him, Haechan is like a giant teddy bear; you always feel safe in his arms, and soon you're fast asleep.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.::･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･

The next morning, Haechan stays true to his word and goes to grab you a plan B as you wait for your landlord to give you a new key. When he returns, he finds his apartment empty. He assumes you were able to get into yours. He knocks on your door, and when you answer, he hands you the pills. You don't spare him a look or even a thank-you as you shut the door in his face again. Haechan may suck at keeping his word, but you don’t.

You were set on making sure you didn't cross the line with him ever again. During the week, he begins to notice your colder than usual behavior, so he goes back on his word about the loud music as well. You don't want to see him, so you try texting him instead. When you ask for him to turn the music down, this time he ignores you and leaves you on read. 

It's like you two are back at square one. You should be happy, but a part of you kind of hates the fact that you two have become bickering neighbors once again, this time worse than the last. You know Haechan is only acting like this because he's hurt. You confirm this when you sometimes catch him in the breezeway returning home from work, but he doesn't try to make small talk anymore; he looks more tired as the days progress. One day, you can't ignore the bags under his eyes any longer. You know you're the one who made him like this.

He returned home at the same time as you; you were always scheduled on the closing shift again, so when you arrive, Haechan is unlocking his door. You find the courage to speak.

"Hey, are you okay?" you ask, concern filling your voice.

"I'm fine," he sneers, pushing his door open. Before he can enter, grab his arm.

I'm worried about you. Have you been getting enough sleep?" You ask, trying to meet his eyes, but he's avoiding eye contact. He snatches his arm away from you.

"Since when do you care what happens to me?! I thought you wanted me to stay away. Fuck. off," he snaps and slams his door in your face.

You know to let him cool off when he gets like this, so you decide to leave him be. Maybe you can catch him in a better mood tomorrow and ask. Before you can enter your apartment, you hear a loud thud from Haechan's apartment. You think maybe he dropped something, but the absolute silence that follows has you worried. You don't hear any footsteps or movement coming from the apartment, so you go to knock.

Hyuck, I'm sorry I upset you, but is everything okay in there?" You wait for a response, but nothing comes.

"Hyuck?.....if you're ok, please answer me." You twist the doorknob to his apartment and notice he left it unlocked.

When you open the door, you find him lying on the floor. His eyes were shut tight, and his chest was heaving. You rush over to his side to check on him. When you touch his skin, he's sweating heavily and burning up. He clearly has a fever.

Hyuck, I know you don't feel good, but we've got to get you to a hospital," you say, trying to help him to his feet.

"No, I'll be fine; I just need to lay down," he says, stumbling as he stands.

You help him to his room and lay him down. You help take off his shoes and change him into something more comfortable to sleep in other than his usual ripped skinny jeans and leather jacket. Once you get him settled in bed, you grab a towel and chill it in cool water so you can help cool him down. He's been up for half the night, tossing and turning from the uncomfortable heat of the fever. Eventually, he's able to cool down and enter a deep sleep. You stay by his side all night and call into work once morning comes. When Haechan wakes up the next morning, he finds you asleep by his side and feels terrible. He knows how much you hate missing work and feels bad that he was the reason why. He gently shakes you awake. Once you're up, you immediately reach for his forehead. He's still a bit too warm for your liking, so you hop out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I'm gonna grab you some soup, and you're still running hot, so I'm going to grab you some ice." Before you can get too far, he grabs your arm.

"Thank you for staying with me, but I promise I can take care of myself."

"I've already called out of work today; you might as well let me take care of you," you counter.

He lets your arm go and falls back into the sheets. In truth, he still felt terrible; he was having a hard time even trying to sit up. He's been feeling a little under the weather for a few days now, but he's been able to persevere through it. His body must have just given up on him at this point. When you return, you have an ice pack and some chicken soup. You helped him sit up and fed him since he still seemed really weak. After you made sure he ate, you tucked him back into bed and set the towel on his head. You turned on his TV and put it at a low volume so as not to give him a headache, and you binge-watched a few shows as he fell back asleep.

It's around 9 p.m., and he's still heavily sleeping when you're bored of the shows you've been watching on Netflix. You decide to straighten up around the house a bit. Haechan isn't particularly dirty, but he hasn't had the time to properly clean up in a while due to his schedule. He has band rehearsals during the day and is booked for gigs at night. When he's not with the band, he's out partying. He only ever returns in the dead of night.

When you two were together, though, Haechan made an effort to make more time for you. He showed up late to rehearsals, stopped partying, and even turned down a few well-paying gigs to spend more time with you. You, on the other hand, refused to call off work. You were constantly working overtime, and you made no effort to make time for him. He tried really hard to be understanding; he was happy with the time he got to spend with you; he knew you had a lot of bills to pay, and he did too. At one point, he realized it wasn't enough; if you truly loved him, you would want to make time for him and make an effort. All he wanted was to know that you loved him, so he asked you to take more time off so you guys could go on more dates. When you agreed, he was content. You were finally making time for him; you must love him. He thought everything was going well until you broke up with him. You told him he was a distraction from work and that you didn't have the time for a relationship at the moment. He was heartbroken. He tries to take it back; he tells you that it's ok that you don't see each other, but you insist that he should be with someone who has more time for him. You said it wasn't fair to him. That's how your relationship became what it was.

You think you let him go out of love; he thinks you gave up on him.

You finish cleaning around 11 p.m. and go next door to your place to grab some more of your stuff. You grab your skin care essentials, body wash, and a new pair of clothes. You set up your things in his bathroom as you shower. It was bringing back memories of when you used to be together. You were always at his place and kept a lot of your stuff there. You shower, and when you get out, you start your skin care routine. While looking in the mirror, you can't help but reminisce about the old memories.

You finish up and return to his side. You checked his temperature again with the thermometer you got from your apartment. He was able to kill his fever. You figure his body is just catching up on all the missed sleep from the past couple of days. You don't want to disturb him, so you exit the room and lay on his couch. You stare at the ceiling.

How did it become like this? Since the last time you saw him, feelings that you previously thought had died have come back full force. That's why you were so bent on avoiding him at all costs. You were already confused, and being near him would only muddle your feelings more. You didn’t want to listen to your heart; you wanted to listen to logic. No matter how much you missed him, it would not work out. You couldn't afford to think with your heart; you didn't want to hurt him again, but it seemed the more you pushed him away, the harder he fell for you.

What was that saying? Absence makes the heart fonder. Well, whatever it was, it had you running laps in your mind, trying to escape thoughts of him. All you could think about was Haechan. If you're being honest, your job wasn't the only reason you pushed Haechan away. You were a little scared; you had never cared for someone as much as you did for Haechan. Your other relationships always ended before things got too serious, and you were afraid that this one would end up like the others. You were afraid of being hurt by him. You didn't want him to leave you, so you left first. You hurt him before he could get the chance to hurt you. You were a coward, and it seemed like you would stay that way forever.

You don't know when you fell asleep, but you wake up to the smell of coffee and breakfast. You sit up and feel the weight of a cover as it pools around your waist at your sudden movements. You don't remember grabbing one last night.

"Hyuck?" You call out, half asleep.

"Sorry for all the trouble I caused you, but I'm feeling better now," he reassures you as he sets a plate of food down on the coffee table in front of you.

You smile at him gently and reach for the food. "I'm glad to hear that." Silence falls between the two of you as you both eat. Once you're done, you clean up the mess you left behind and turn to him once again. "Well, I should get going," you say awkwardly.

"You can stay if you want," He says hopefully.

"No, I think I've already overstayed my welcome."

"You're always welcome."

"Hyuck…please" 

He runs his hand across his face, trying to collect his emotions, and says, "You know what? Do whatever you want; I don't care anymore." Even though this is what you wanted, it still hurts to hear him say it. You quietly leave and return home.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.::･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･

Tonight, you're going out for the first time in a long time. Your friend Jungwoo was finally able to convince you to take a night off. He even offers to pay you for any hours that you miss. You reject his offer to pay you, but you do join him for a night out. After all this time, you deserve to relax a little. You can't just work until you die.

You and Jungwoo go clubbing, and you're having a great time. Haechan was right; you have to stop working so much and live a little. If you have to budget a little harder or even move into a smaller apartment, you think it's worth it if you get to spend less time at work and more time around the people you actually care about. You're sitting at the bar with Jungwoo when you hear a commotion behind you. At the back of the club was a stage. The club had strippers that put on shows some nights; tonight must have been one of those nights. That's what you think when you see people crowding around the stage, but when you see a band set up on the stage, you think that's highly unlikely.

"Oh god, please no," you silently pray.

Jungwoo turns once he realizes you're not paying attention to the story he's telling you. He follows your line of sight to the stage. "A band must be playing tonight," he says, taking a sip from his drink. Hey, didn't your ex used to... oh my god," he says as he finally catches up to speed with the situation. "You don't think..." he asks, turning to you again.

You pray and pray that it's not who you think it is when you see five silhouettes walk onto the dark stage. The band finally finishes setting up in the dark, and when the lights illuminate them in all their glory, you can't help but curse every god in existence.

Of course, it was The Neos.

"It's fucking him," you say, turning to Jungwoo with wide eyes.

Look, don't worry about him tonight; we came here to have fun, and seeing your hot ex isn't going to change that."

"Jungwoo!" 

"I'm sorry, look at him!"

look at him? You could barely take your eyes off of him! His messy hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him. His eyes were adorned with his signature black eyeliner, and he was wearing simple black ripped skinny jeans and a baggy t-shirt. His fingers were littered with rings, and he was wearing his favorite bracelet. When you looked closely, you spotted a silver lip piercing sitting pretty against his plump, heart-shaped lips.

"Wanna get closer?" Jungwoo suggests you can only nod your head, still distracted by your ex’s new look.

You get closer to the stage, and he looks even more delectable up close. You're so terrible. You pushed him away all those times just to imagine pulling him closer to you under different circumstances. This was your first time ever hearing him play with his band. He’s played you a few songs before at home, but you never made time to actually see him play at a gig. He was amazing; he was truly born to be on stage.

As the band played, the crowd got bigger and more lively, jumping to the music. You almost forgot you were at a club and not a concert. Reality comes crashing back down on you when you lock eyes with Haechan. You immediately stop dancing, and it's like the entire world slows down. The flashing strobe lights and the bodies around you all move in slow motion as you're locked into this moment with Haechan. You can't hear anything; all you can see is Haechan. His eyes don't leave you for a few more moments, but when they finally do, it's like the spell is broken.

Everything begins to move again, and you can hear the music blaring, but you're still rooted to your spot on the floor. Jungwoo turns to look at you to ask if you're okay, and that's when you notice the band has wrapped up their last song. The crowd is starting to thin out when you see him jump down from the stage with the bass still hanging from his shoulders. When Jungwoo doesn't get a response from you, he turns to see where your eyes are looking.

"Oh shit he's coming this way." Jungwoo tries to be a good friend and pull you away, but it's too late.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a bit?" Haechan says it loud enough to be heard over the music of the club that resumed playing after their set.

"I don't think..." Jungwoo starts before looking at you for reassurance.

"It's ok, Woo, I'll just be a minute, ok?" You say this as you finally manage to pull yourself together.

"Are you sure?" he hesitates.

"Positive, I'll text you when I'm ready, ok?" You say this before following Haechan to the back of the club. He's guiding you through the back halls of the club when you two finally reach the spare room the band was using to store their extra equipment. Everyone was already packing up.

"Hey, we're heading out—oh, who's this?" the one with the pink hair says.

"This is my ex," Haechan somewhat introduces you.

‘Hello ex. I’m Jaemin," he flirts with a smile.

"Cut it out Jaem, before he punches you again," said a smaller male with messy brown hair.

"I'm just messing around Renjun. We all know he still loves his ex; he won't shut up about her." Jaemin laughs,adjusting a gig bag over his shoulder.

"Im going to fucking kill you." Before Haechan can make a move forward, another male finally speaks up; this one was probably the buffest next to Jaemin. He grabs a hold of Haechan's arm.

Guys, cut it out. Mark is already waiting for us in the van. Come on before he leaves us again."

"Jen's right, let's go. They obviously want to be alone," the one they called Renjun said.

The boys clear out the room supplies in tow, leaving the room almost as barren as when they arrived, save for you two still occupying the space. Haechin heaves a big sigh, his cheeks still tinted pink with embarrassment. "I'm sorry about them; they just like to tease me," he tries to cover up.

You nod, trying to help him change the subject. "You guys were amazing tonight. I knew you were good at playing, but hearing you with a band was incredible," you gush.

Haechan can't fight the huge smile that takes over his face. "That means a lot." An awkward silence falls between you two as you run out of things to say.

"So you wanted to talk to me?" You rock back and forth on your heels nervously.

"Honestly, I didn't really have anything to say; I just wanted to see you again."

It's been a hot minute since the last time you saw Haechan. Lately, you have been completely missing him in the parking lot and in the breezeway. He stopped playing loud music completely, and if he was bringing home girls, you couldn't hear them anymore. It's almost like the apartment next to you is empty.

Well, here I am," you say with an awkward smile.

A few beats pass, and he finally speaks again. "I see you came out with Jungwoo. What? Are you two together now?" He says it a bit bitterly.

"Oh god, Hyuck, don't start; you know I don't do relationships."

"So you're fucking him?"

"I didn't say that!"

Well, what is it then? He can convince you to take off work for a night out, but I couldn't even get you to spare me a few hours of your time?"

"Hyuck, you know that's not true! Look, I didn't come here to argue, ok?" You yell exasperatedly.

"Come home with me," he states. It's not really a question.

"I'm out with someone right now." You look away from him.

He stands in front of you now, "still too busy to fit me into your schedule?"

You remain silent.

"Too busy for me, but never too busy to take my cock like a fucking slut," he sneers.

"Go to hell," you say, pushing him away from you.

"What. Am I wrong? The only time you spent with me was when we were fucking. Let's be real." The usual warmth isn't behind his eyes anymore; they are almost as cold and steely as the lip ring that adorns his lip.

You're such a fucking jerk; I broke up with you because I knew I couldn't provide you with the attention you so desperately crave all the time. I kept it real with you from the beginning! I could have strung you along, but I ended it before it got too serious." At this point, you're fuming.

Oh, yeah, right! I'm sick of hearing your excuses; you knew your schedule from the moment you said yes. You knew what you were signing up for. Just admit it. You're scared of commitment; you were scared of it getting too serious."

You feel called out because he was 100% right. "Fuck you, Haechan."

"I bet you would love to, princess," he spits back.

You both stare at each other, chests heaving from anger. "Tell him you're not going back with him."

"You can't seriously still be on tha-" Before you can finish your sentence, his lips are locked on yours.

One moment you're screaming at each other; the next you're ripping each other's clothes off. There was no way this was healthy, but you didn't care because Haechan was your favorite drug. He's pushing you back into the vanity in the corner of the room and lifting you onto the tabletop. You spread your legs, allowing him room in between. You can feel his hard length through the tight fabric of his pants. You feel The cool metal of his lip piercing when you kiss him, and you can't help but imagine how it would feel on other, more intimate parts of your body. You grind against the front of his pants, trying to feel more of him as you breathe him in like he's the only air you need, until your lungs are screaming at you for air.

"You're no good for me, but I can't get enough," he mumbles between breaths.

Your fingers find purchase in his already messy hair as you use it to pull him towards you once again. You two continue to make out when your phone starts ringing in your back pocket. You try to ignore it, but Haechan can’t. He knows who's probably calling. He pulls away from you, biting into your bottom lip and tugging it with him until he lets go.

"Answer it," he demands. You try to pull him back into you, but he shrugs you off. "Answer it or I will," he threatens.

You want to test him, but the way he's looking at you makes you want to give him everything he's ever wished for. You decide to be his good girl tonight. You slip your phone from your back pocket and answer it.

"You good? It's getting late; we need to leave soon," Jungwoo voices through the phone speaker.

You hesitate with your response, trying to find your voice.

"Hellooo… Don't make me come find you." Jungwoo says you can hear him readjust his phone against his ear as he whispers sorry to someone, probably pushing through bodies looking around for you.

"Im good, Woo; go ahead and head home without me; I'm going to catch a ride with Hyuck.'' As you speak to Jungwoo on the other line, Haechan is peppering kisses up and down your neck, and you can't help but let out a few quiet, breathless moans.

"oh-OHH!" Jungwoo exclaims. "You're nasty; have fun and stay safe, bye!" Jungwoo hands up the phone upon realization of what's going on.

You drop your phone on the counter and continue where you left off. See, I can be good for you," you say.

"Only when you want something," he punctuates as he uses his teeth to snip at your neck.

Haechan knows you guys only have so much time before security comes around and makes sure they have vacated the room. They only have it for the duration of the time they booked the gig. He pulls you off the vanity and turns you around to face it. He flips up your skirt and pulls the neckline of your shirt down past your boobs, keeping you partially covered in case you have to cover up quickly. You met the eyes of your reflection, and you were able to see for the first time how fucked out you already looked. He hasn't even properly touched you, and you're already dripping down your thighs.

"Look at how pretty you are, angel. I want you to look at yourself as you take my cock. Don't you dare look away." Haechan lays a sweet kiss on the top of your head, and you know that's his promise to you that he's going to absolutely ruin you.

He makes quick work of his studded belt and pushes his jeans down past his waist. He pulls your panties to the side and quickly works in a finger. He stretches you until you seem ready enough to take him, so he frees himself completely and spits down onto his tip. He mixes his saliva with your juices as he strokes his tip through your wet folds. He doesn't hold back any longer and thrusts into you. You keep your promise and don't take your eyes off of your reflection. You can see the way your mouth drops at the way he fucks you deep, and you watch as your brows furrow up when he hits a particular spot inside you.

"Right there! Please don't stop!" You cry.

Haechan leans over your back and rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. His movements slow as he uses precision to repeatedly bully the spot inside you that's making you see stars.

"Do you feel that love? No one else knows you like I know you; who else is gonna make you feel like this, huh, baby? Tell me." His eyes don't leave your face, and when you don't respond, he lands a harsh smack against one of your ass cheeks. "You can't fucking hear me? I said answer me!" he yells as he picks up his pace. He wraps his hand around your neck, and you can feel the cool metal of his rings against your skin.

 "No one! Only you can make me feel this good. Only you can fuck me like this. Fuck me until I can't remember my name," you rasp.

"That's my good girl," he whispers in your ear.

He tugs you back into him with the hold he has on your neck. Your back meets his chest as he fucks into you at a new angle. You can't hold on any longer, so you let go. You come all over his cock, and when he doesn't slow down for even a second, you feel your second high quickly approaching.

Hyuck, please, I can't take another one; I'll make a mess," you plead. You know this next one is going to be messy. You can feel the pressure building up in your stomach.

That's ok, baby; I want to drown in you; let go for me." And for the second time that night, you come again, but this time you're squirting, and it's dripping all onto the ground below you. "You're so fucking nasty," he says to you as he pushes you to your knees on the wet ground. A hand goes to your hair, and you can feel the sting as Haechan tugs your head back so that you can meet his eyes.

"Open your mouth, slut."

You do as you're told and stick your tongue out for him. He moans at the visual and slowly lets a trail of spit fall from his mouth into your awaiting one. When you swallow his spit, he can't help but be proud: "That's my good girl."

He guides his length into your mouth, and you choke on him before you know it. Mascara running down your face, spit covering your lips This is what Haechan wanted you to see: you made him a mess on the inside, but he was always going to ruin you on the outside. It's a shame you couldn't see it. He fucks your face, and you take it like a champ. You look up at him, and all you can see is infatuation. That's when you realize it. He was never going to let you go. He was going to keep forcing himself into your life, whether you liked it or not, because he was disgustingly in love with you. Even as you kneel on the floor of a dingy club, covered in your own release, choking on his dick, his eyes are filled with love. His brows furrowed, and he let out a long moan as he released down your throat. He's still feeling a little mean, so he pinches your nose and makes you gag. He holds your head down and fucks deep into your throat a few more times before letting you go.

Did he love you? Yes.

Was he above making you suffer a little bit? No.

You catch your breath as you look up at him. Before a word can be spoken between the two of you,a knock comes at the door. Security announces themselves and tries to open the door but finds it locked. You and Hyuck look at each other in fear as you scramble to dress yourselves properly.

"One second, we were still cleaning up," He calls to the door.

"You guys were supposed to be gone 20 minutes ago." The security guards' annoyed voice can be heard through the door.

"Sorry, dude, we will be right out."

"You guys have 5 minutes!" security yells before walking away.

You fix your hair in the mirror, and Haechan tries his best to clean up the mess on the floor with whatever he can find. "Come on, let's go home," he says as he grabs your hand as he guides you through the back halls of the club on to the main floor and to his car.

In a matter of 15 minutes, you're back at your shared apartment complex. You're making your way up the stairs when Haechan offers to properly clean you up. You had left some of your skin care products over at his place a while ago anyway, so you agree. He runs a bath for the two of you, and afterwards, while you remove your makeup, you also help him remove his eyeliner. He's sitting on the counter when you gently wipe his eye makeup away. The silence between you is no longer awkward but a comforting one. You decide to break the silence first.

"I thought about what you said before, and you're right; I was making excuses. I was afraid you would break my heart, so I decided to hurt you first." You switch to taking off the makeup on his other eye. "I'm sorry for that, but I realize now that you would never hurt me; no matter how hard I push you away, you will never leave me alone."

"You make me sound like a nuisance," he said, glaring playfully at you.

"Because you are," you peck him softly on the lips, "but I've decided I don't want to live hurting the people I love anymore. I want to try again with you. Will you accept me?"

Haechan has been waiting forever to hear those words again. "You love me?"

Yes, I love you, idiot. Is that all you heard?" you joke.

"I love you too," he responds with a kiss. "Do you promise not to run from me again?" He looks at you, and you can see the vulnerability in his eyes.

"I promise, I'll never leave your side again". 

You finish removing his makeup, and you two set off to bed. This time, when you go to sleep in his arms, you don't dread the morning after; you know this is not a mistake. When the morning comes, you're going to be a new person and not the one that gives up on Haechan again and again; this time, you will love to the fullest.

[amorchai]

𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆.

written for my old blog but never posted!

pairing(s): tangerine x assassin!reader

words: 919

warnings/tags: mutual pining, mention of scissors, pet names, arguing friends to lovers, lemon playing cupid, cursing.

“just let me take over and i’ll pull the fucker open,” tangerine interjects, leaning down to lemon who is currently knelt on the ground trying to pick the wired-shut door to the train bathroom. you patiently waiting, tangerine… not so much.

“if you stop breathing down my neck i would be able to do it,” lemon replies, listening as tangerine huffs angrily before leaning against the train window, shoulder nudging yours. you look at him amused with a small, “just because you have big arms doesn’t mean you’re unstoppable.”

his eyes glare but a small smirk coats under his moustache, “yeah? you think i have big arms, love?” tangerine nods to his folded arms, shirt sleeves rolled up to show the hair and tattoos to his forearms and you try your best not to look.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, sunshine,” you tease back, the nickname he hates that is quite the opposite of him. his jaw clenches at the mention, looking away from you but back to his brother which neither of you notice the agitated state as he pauses with each flirtatious response.

“maybe we could get scissors?” you suggest to him, and lemon nods, his fingers stop fidgeting with the tangled mess. he grunts when he leans back on the balls of his feet, “that could work, actually yeah. tangerine?” lemon consults.

there’s no response and lemon wipes his hands against his trousers before he stands, turning to look at tangerine who seems lost in a daze, you awaiting his response too. lemon reaches over to wave his hand across the vision of tangerine’s disconnected view and you nudge him, “tangerine? lemon asked you a question.”

he snaps back into it, looking up to his brother, to you, and a smirk coats his lips as he looks back to his brother, “sorry, was busy thinking of y/n saying my arms were big. what’d ye say?” both you and lemon huff, lemon raising his hands in frustration before slapping each of his legs, “you know what, i’ve had enough of this ‘will they won’t they’ bullshit—”

“what the fuck—?” before tangerine can interrupt, lemon continues, “spending each and every job to flirt the entire time and forcing me to watch, it’s not cute anymore.” both you and tangerine stare at lemon with wide eyes as he rants, a thick tension coating the air of the unspoken thing being spoken.

“now i’ll go find a pair of scissors, and you better have sorted this whole thing out by the time i’m back,” before lemon leaves, he glares at his brother, “i’m talking to you by the way, you arsehole.”

it’s silent as you and tangerine watch lemon leave the cart, looking back on you both when the automated door shuts over and gesturing to you dramatically. tangerine chuckles awkwardly, looking back to you with a low, “somebody must’ve slipped something into his water, cheeky fucker.”

you watch as tangerine moves, swiftly stepping his feet to stand in front of you, hand anxiously petting his moustache as he avoids your gaze. “yeah, he’s crazy,” you laugh just as awkwardly as he did, unsure of how to act.

but after a beat of silence you’re outwardly thinking, “is he though?” tangerine glances at you, hand dropping to point where lemon had just left, gold rings shining, “what, lemon? yeah he’s fucking mental, talks about trains all day—”

“no, tangerine. you know i meant what he said about us.”

tangerine sighs, processing what you’ve said. there was always something there, always something unspoken and high in tension as you both held off from acting on it and it was all tumbling around due to lemon’s interference.

“no. he’s not.”

you move your gaze back to tangerine who is already looking at you, as if either of you are awaiting further instruction, seeing who acts first. “so, what now?” you ask him, eyes looking at him expectantly and his fleet across your features before letting out a, “fuck it.”

you’re shocked as he steps forward, hands cupping your cheeks and you stop leaning against the wall to move closer to him, his height towering over yours as he leans down to kiss you. your lips squish together easily and he’s hard and impatient.

nudging his head to the side, tangerine makes you feel light-headed by how intense and passionate he’s kissing you, your slight-shaking hands tugging on his fancy vest before reaching for the curly hair at the nape of his neck.

he walks you back a couple of steps, your back meeting the cold glass again as one hand leaves your jaw to rest at the wall beside your head, lips continuing to move against one another, only pulling back for a moment's breath.

tangerine pulls away all too soon for you, you’re out of breath and giggling profusely, resting your forehead against his heaving chest as he finally wears a genuine smile you don’t see often. the hand that was on your cheek moves to the back of your head, fingers rubbing your scalp as you both laugh.

and it dies down and you lift your head back up to look at the man, who leans down to peck your lips once more, interrupted by the smooth sound of the cart door opening, lemon’s voice booming down the room, “fucking finally, jesus christ, man.”

you both pull away to look at tangerine’s brother, who just shows off the scissors in his hand with a grin, “got ‘em.”

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[lovely-keii]

hihi can i request sakusa, kuroo and iwazumi with an s/o who has really red cheeks THANK YOUUU

with an s/o with really red cheeks

characters: sakusa kiyoomi, kuroo tetsurou, iwaizumi hajime

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

your first encounter, he stays far, far away from you. you think he hates you until komori hands you fever medicine. “this is from my cousin. the gloomy one with the curly hair. says to get better soon.” you’re confused til it hits you, your cheeks. you laugh and turn to sakusa who’s standing at the other corner of the room. he realizes his heart fucked. “oh, my cheeks are normally this red.”

when you get together, he’s honestly so crazy about it. he thinks your cheeks look so good with a laugh from you. “smile please.” “…one more.” “another one.” “just take a picture, omi. my cheeks are hurting from all the smiling you make me do.” “but i already have one.”

god forbid you do any physical activity and you look the slightest bit sporty. the red cheeks with the athletic vibe to it ruin his entire serious, gloomy facade. “you make me go crazy, you know?” “huh?”

when he gets comfortable, he doesn’t want you wearing masks at home. “don’t cover it up. such a waste of a good view.”

KUROO TETSUROU

kuroo will be such a tease about it. he absolutely knows it’s just your cheeks being naturally red, but he will never let an opportunity to mess with you pass him by.

“wow, y/n. i haven’t even said anything and you’re already blushing.” you love him but sometimes he needs a good shutting up. “tetsu, if you don’t shut up…”oh, and when you get mad at him: “that’s crazy y/n, because a minute ago you were all red and flustered.”

has the most insane, diabolical, vomit-inducing nickname for you. “hey there, miss tomato shrub.” “where’s my pantone pigment baby?” “good morning, my little red stop light.” “give me a sec, angry bird”

but if you’re insecure about it, he gives you a cheeky grin and goes “i don’t get it. i think it’s perfect like that. all red for me.” “it’s not for you.” “that’s your opinion.”

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

at first, he thinks you’re blushing all the time. “oh, i didn’t know that would fluster you. was it really that romantic-” he’s kind of disappointed when he finds out you just have really red cheeks normally and that you didn’t actually blush because of him. “oh, thats, um, nice.”

he’s oddly…bewitched by your cheeks. sometimes, you two are doing nothing when he’ll suddenly stare at you. “hm? haji, you need something?” “mot really.” and then he’ll just squeeze your cheek. and not let go for a good minute or two.

one time, he’s arguing with oikawa and you hear him go “stop bragging, shittykawa. does your girlfriend blush 24/7 cuz of you? i didn’t think so.” “iwa-chan it’s a genetic thing!” “skill issue, skittykawa.”

you don’t even have the time to be insecure about it, because he’s always got his hands massaging your cheeks and kissing them like crazy. “keep it all red and cute.” “it’s not like i can control it, haji…” “‘s fine as long as it doesn’t go away.”

[s0rr3l]

@blackknight-kai @jeminiikrystal @marcu-bug @dunanana @maiden-of-the-waters @rovobeam

relationship chart! Idea from @szynkaaa 's post here

Big Spoon/Little Spoon

Depends on the mood; they like to switch but Yēzi prefers being the Big Spoon

Lǐyú likes to hide their face in monkey's back cause they get embarassed how easily their face flushes

Lends Clothes/Borrows Clothes

Yēzi is more likely to procure clothing in Lǐyú's size then lend his own

But he does buy more oversized clothing when he realises they both can share it (thus scents intermingle together ❤️)

Monkey See Monkey Do AU - both Lǐyú and Yēzi share clothes, because Lǐyú loves oversized clothing)

Doesn't Use Pet Names/Uses Pet Names

Both of them don't really care, though they don't mind nicknames from friends/family

Besides, they have other ways to tease each other besides nicknames 🤭

Introverted/Extroverted

Yēzi is actually NOT that introverted! He's more of an Ambivert

Doesn't mind having company even if he doesn't do a lot of talking

Lǐyú, while they can talk and handle social stuff, would rather prefer quieter company

Affection Through Words/Affection Through Actions

Both are physically affectionate, even if Lǐyú has to wrack up the nerve to reach out

Yēzi tries to be respectful of Lǐyú's personal space (since they brought up how uncomfortable it was to have it invaded so easily)

But over time monkey learns to read Lǐyú well enough to know what kind of touch they can tolerate, and vice versa 😊

Confesses First/Waits for Confession

CHAPTER 6 CONFESSION

Liyu had realised their feelings early on but doesn’t confess, mainly because they realised how futile/unfair it would be to each other since they’re going back to their own world

just resigns themselves to pining

Yēzi is oblivious to his own feelings until post-chap 5 (and he falls hard- but also realises that it’s a little too late 🥲)

So he settles for a promise (the red string) to make sure they don’t forget him

Screams about Bugs/Squashes Bug With A Shoe

Lǐyú is usually cool with bugs (from a distance)

Yēzi loves to tease them though, so will sneak a bug or two onto their belongings, just to watch them squeal

He is also more than willing to squash a bug for Lǐyú

Drives the Car/Can't Drive lol

Cars don't exist in ancient fantasy china lmao

By default Lǐyú drives

(Besides Monkey would HATE automobiles)

Can't Cook For Shit/Makes Dinner

Yēzi is a gatherer and and sucks at cooking

Ok so he's not BAD, he just has no patience for it

The best dish Lǐyú can make is shrimp friend rice

Everything else they are average at best

When they were dumped into BMW-verse they couldn't cook for shit and had to learn

Both of them would rather mooch off others/eat out

Dislikes PDA/Loves PDA

Lǐyú gets soooo flustered about it (in the beginning)

But then they realise how much Yēzi enjoys it/doesn't care about the opinions of others

Still a little shy about it, but otherwise enjoys it

Yēzi REVELS in it 🥰

Loves PDA even if he's not loud or flashy about it

A holdover from their time journeying through dangerous areas, monkey will find a way to keep touching Lǐyú, either through hand or tail

Overprotective/Chill Going

Yēzi can get a bit overprotective/smothering because he underestimates Lǐyú's overall uh

Toughness

No worries he learms soon enough that his travel buddy can hold out well enough

(At least until he can get there)

Lǐyú's more fussy than overprotective, until someone is rude to their Monkey

Then all bets are off

Has More Relationship Experience/Has NO Relationship Experience

Lǐyú is a certified Unrequited Love expert. Good at pining from afar, terrible luck with confessions 💔

That being said they've also been in a romantic relationship, which is more than monkey can say

Yēzi is so out of touch with his own feelings that he didn't realise he was in love with Lǐyú until they confess first

[thegoldencontracts]

(Not) A Love Triangle

Summary: The rumors say you and Azul are in a love triangle with Jamil. Little do they know, that's not the case.

This idea is not mine, it's by @quartztwst - what if you and azul think the other likes jamil but you're both actually jealous of him and he hates his life?

“Oh, Jamil-san!”

“Hey, Jamil!”

“Dearest Jamil-san, you really ought to join Octavinelle someday.”

“Come on, Jamil, old buddy old pal, don’t give that guy the time of day. You should look at my epic ideas instead!”

This was the life of Jamil Viper, and he absolutely hated it. You and Azul Ashengrotto were both constantly pursuing him.

“Hey Jamil, why don’t you come over to my room sometime?”

“Dearest Jamil-san, do refrain from giving that cretin the time of day. Octavinelle’s lounge is far better than that musky old place.”

People had spread rumors, rumors about you two both liking him because, well, of course they did. The universe just couldn’t let Jamil Viper have nice things.

It was a love triangle, or so they said. Azul and you were both fighting over them, bickering, and the student body was enamored. One particularly enthusiastic student even made a small manga one-off that was quickly hailed as the hold grail of Night Raven drama.

But there was one thing that those fools didn’t realize.

Neither of you liked him. You both thought the other liked him, and so you attempted to get him away from the other so they’d stop liking him. You two didn’t react like most jealous individuals did, because the universe simply had to throw another inconvenience the way of Jamil Viper. What had he done to deserve all this?

Even when you two weren’t near him, he still couldn’t get a single break.

“Look!” Ace said to you, pointing at Azul with an impish grin. “It’s your crush. Aren’t you going over there and shoot your shot?”

“S-Shut up!” You said. “He’ll overhear, and- besides, he doesn’t like me. Everyone knows he likes Jamil.”

You seemed to deflate at the mention of Azul liking him, and if it weren’t for how wrong you were, perhaps a teensy part of Jamil would’ve actually felt bad.

No. He didn’t have time to feel bad. The only person here to feel sorry for was himself.

But this was getting annoying, so he tried to avoid looking at you — he didn’t want to hear anything else about your little romance.

That didn’t work out.

“Hey, Azul,” Floyd drawled, slipping an arm over Azul’s shoulder. “You gonna confess to your little grouper fish anytime soon?”

Floyd had even changed your nickname to that of a creature symbiotic with octopi! It was so clear you two liked each other and not him. And yet, no one but him - and maybe the twins - seemed to realize it.

“S-Shut it!” His response was so similar to yours it was driving Jamil crazy. “I don’t like- well, er-“

Realizing there was no defense for himself, he buried his face in his hands, cheeks red.

If he wasn’t such a pain, Jamil would almost find it cute. But Azul was a snivelling nincompoop,

“It doesn’t matter,“ he said, voice muffled. “My love couldn’t possibly be requited, not when Jamil’s right there!“

Azul’s ego was like a balloon, truly — appearing large and imposing, but small in volume and easily burst. Jamil had never seen someone more insecure.

Pathetic.

He didn’t have the time for this.

“Let’s go, Kalim,” he said, and almost instantly, the two of you perked up.

“May I assist you, Jamil-san?”

“Don’t look at him, I’m a way better pick! At least I’m not trying to scam you and kill your grandma!”

“I resent that accusation. In fact, I’ve never killed a grandmother in my life! I am a very respectful and law-abiding-“

“Yap yap. Now, go. Jamil deserves better.”

“Than you, yes.”

Any pity in his heart was immediately stamped out. Of course, the two of you couldn’t allow him a moment of peace.

Of course.

[rottindecay]

hi～sorry to disturb you！I'm new to this fandom and in the hope of talking with someone else.🥺🥺🥺 i notice that you write requests for Eric Draven👉👈...could you please write something like a crossover head canon👉👈like David from lost boys being bestie with Eric （as i just read somewhere yesterday that Kiefer Sutherland was close to Brandon Lee and even the one who introduced Eliza Hutton to Lee. 👉👈）Or maybe just write a vampire Eric Draven AU please🥺🥺🥺🌹.

OH MY GOD ANNON. THATS SUCH AN AMAZING IDEA! Thanks for the request!

I haven’t seen THE LOST BOYS movie in like a million years and sadly, I don’t write for them. that might change though!

So this post is gunna be about Vampire!Eric Draven x Reader !

𝑹⛧𝑻' s Note (1): also soo sorry I made this super late, lots of stuff is happening in my life such as school and other things so I hope you don’t mind too much! I've also been grounded for some time now so if this layout looks a bit weird, I'm writing this on computer.

𝑹⛧𝑻' s Note (2): also im so sorry if this is ass i dont know much about vampires.. lol

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who writes poetry about you and for you. whether it’s about how much he loves you, or how beautiful you look under the moonlight. anything that comes to mind when he thinks about you, he is writing down on paper and giving it to you once he’s done or he's putting them in a pile full of other his poetry he has written for you but didn't gift.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who feels bad when you give yourself up to him for when he is in need of blood. He hates hurting you in any way and will always feels guilty when he does do it, even after you say how it’s completely okay and you’re fine with it.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who when is done feeding on you, would patch any wounds up he might have left on you. he would hug and cuddle you and tell you how amazing and lovely you are as he kisses your patched up scars.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who would give you nicknames such as love, dove, my rose, angel…

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who is overly clingy towards you, but it’s not like you mind at all.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who stalks you at night when you’re at walking around or doing anything outside of your guy's shared apartment. He doesn't tell he does this; he just wants to make sure nobody is going to hurt you.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who watches you sleep at night since he isn't tired from sleeping all day. He admires your beauty from the one lit candle he has in the room and is astonished by how or why you chose him out of any other good-looking guys.

𖤐 . . Speaking of sleep.. Vampire!Eric Draven who will see you randomly taking a nap on the couch or bed and would just sit there and just stare admire you. He could do this for hours and hours on end and wouldn't get even the slightest bit of boredom.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who is like an actual crow. He would randomly give you things that reminded himself of you like roses, or just any cute looking trinkets he finds laying on the ground when he's out patrolling the night.

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven who when gifting you roses, would cut the thorns off of it first before handing it to you because he's scared that if you prick yourself on one of those thorns and smell the blood running down from your wound, he doesn't know if he could handle himself with the smell of your sweet... delicious... tasty... blood...

𖤐 . . Vampire!Eric Draven when you do accidently get pricked by something, would walk up to you and try to contain himself. He would ask if you're alright, but you can see the hunger in his eyes when he looks down at your freshly cut wound. After noticing this, you would ask him if he wants some of your blood but he's hesitant (as always) but gives in once he knows your 100% fine with it.

[cosmic-spider]

Jax x mexican fem reader

He finds you accent funny( if you have one.) especially when you pronounce stores and other thing.

 He finds it funny when you don’t remember the name of something and you just say  agárra me el dese.(get me the thing) it makes him giggle a bit every time.

On the other hand, he does hate it whenever you take off your shoe and start hitting him with it. (He still doesn’t understand how a slipper or a shoe can become a lethal weapon in less than two seconds.)

He still doesn’t understand how you’re able to hit him perfectly on the head when he’s trying to run away from you before you hit him.( later on starts to ask you how to do it so you can hit other people from far away for a prank)

He loves it whenever you sing in your language either in front of the others, or even just by yourself in your room when you think no one is listening to you.( Not that he will ever tell you he dose)

He keeps your room key very close to him at all times in case he hears you start singing in your room by yourself so he can just come in and or peep through the door and listen to you sing.

I also find it fascinating on how many different ways you can dance just one song. Still doesn’t understand how you can move your feet so fast or so fluently especially your hips.

Almost ever fight the two of you have is just you getting pissed off of his jokes, and you cussing him out in Spanish, which were some reason Caine has not censored. Then him yelling at you saying “I don’t speak Taco Bell! “And then you just get pissed off and just start hitting him with your slippers/shoe.

He does love your cooking on the other hand not that he would actually tell you directly. Every now and then he’ll give a comment, saying it was good, or nice. Will eat through the pain of the spicy food. ( Will be drinking so much milk and water that he can find the moment he get out of you eyesight.)

Still doesn’t understand the nickname you call him by conejo morado.( purple bunny)

As a s/o

Loves it whenever you come to his defense and cuss whoever is bothering him. It warms is heart seeing you do that. You’re actually defending. He covered his face whenever you ask him if he’s OK since he’s blushing under the covered up part of his face with his hand.

Find that funny whenever something goes wrong on the dates that you make for the two of you.

Some of the stories about how you grow up and how your siblings active during parties in for piñata’s terrifying him.

Especially since he’s not a kid person. He could just imagine the horror trying to take care of kids that Literally run around and hit each other over candy that comes out of a piñata.( Wonders how you even survive that growing up)

Find the face smashing into birthday cake, tradition hilarious. Wants to try it on you until you told him the story where you literally gave your cousin a blackeye because of it.( things twice about ruining your birthdays now.)

Purposely does things to piss you off just so you can cause I’m out in Spanish he just stays there and looks at you with a smirk, face and flirts with you more to get your even more pissed off try to run away afterward, but gets hit in the head with a slipper.

Absolutely adores it  whenever you make  pan dulce (Mexican sweet breed.) Hid favorite is conchas, galletas, cono, y poquito with some coffee in the morning.

Finds the stories, you tell him about cookouts, funny and entertaining, especially on long and boring days that he has or when you tell him that someone got into a fight.

Both of you start drama and problems for the others. Then watch it on falls on the sidelines. 

Is always impressed on how fast you can run whenever someone gets abstracted. ( like he’s a rabbit and he can run pretty fast, but damn, can you out run him any day)

Hates it whenever you start the cleaning ritual every Sunday or what you believe. It’s a Sunday.(especially when you start singing and blasting music out of nowhere, or when you go into his room, even though he had all the keys and other ways to get into his room.) Its his nightmare

[spectrum-spectre]

oh man... I just experienced A Thought™ again

I'm never gonna write this, so if someone else wants to, go right ahead (preferably with credit, please):

Everyone thinks that Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are alphas, but they're actually hiding their true designations--not because they're scared omegas, but because they're both secretly betas.

They're mimicking! You obviously can't choose what you present as (unless you go through bitching or studding, but this is rural Indiana in the 80's; nobody in that town has ever even heard of these things)--

BUT! Your designation can be partially influenced by your environment! That's why Steve's dad made him join three different sports teams; to encourage his body to develop into that of an alpha. Except, well... Steve doesn't really want that. He hates the culture surrounding alpha males, but he also sees how the world treats omegas of all genders, and he doesn't want to play a part in any of that bullshit. So his body decides to present as something else entirely.

Eddie's story was much the same, but he also went through a different kind of pressure from his family. His parents fought a lot, so he would play the mediator in a desperate attempt to keep them together (and so his dad would target his anger at him instead--just like he does with bullies at school).

Steve sees alphas as assholes, and Eddie sees alphas as abusive, but they both recognize they would be granted a certain level of safety and social standing if everyone thought that they were alphas instead.

That's not even getting into the fact that betas aren't exactly a hot commodity; Steve is terrified that people will find him boring--or worse, undesirable.

They came up with the plan together. Steve was a sophomore, and Tommy had dared him to try buying weed from the weird junior who still hadn't presented *yet. Eddie had just seen his last client for the day, but as soon as Steve approached the picnic table, both their presentations hit at the same time. There's no beta equivalent of a heat/rut, they just... suddenly Know™ that's what their designation is.

It was actually Steve's idea, at first. He remembered reading a book about mimicry in elementary school, and when he mentioned Monarch Butterflies, Eddie came up with the nickname King Steve (it only stuck because other students overheard Eddie refer to him as that while snarkily muttering under his breath). He helped Steve flesh out the details of the plan, and the two came to an agreement: they'd try to prevent targeted harassment from their respective cliques, under the threat of mutually assured destruction.

*in my mind, they go through their initial puberty around ages 11-13, and then their presentation/second puberty hits around ages 14-16. I imagine Steve was freshly 16, with Eddie just a few weeks shy of turning 17, so he was a bit of a late bloomer.

[noxturnalnymph]

Devotion 🖤 I. Stronger Together (Ch 3)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE PREVIOUS

I. Stronger Together

CH 3 (5.3k) One afternoon you come back with Bianca from your baths and Tess informs you that you’ll now be accompanying Joel to one of his weekly community meetings. There are the three nights a week that you all leave the house, but Joel also goes out after dinner the other four nights of the week, interacting with different groups in The Valley. Tess has always accompanied him to his Thursday meeting and she lets you know that you’ll be taking her place.

At the meeting he introduces you to the group, which is comprised of farmers who live further down the Valley, outside the safety of the town. You learn that they come together every Thursday to bring in the animal products, take away food, trade supplies, discuss safety issues, and spend some time socializing. The evening meeting with Joel is the last thing they do before they head back to their land.

With each passing week, he watches you come out of your shell more and he’s impressed by your demeanor. You assist the older folks with getting a drink and a bite to eat. You make conversation with them, easily giving them your time and attention. You nod and listen when they speak with Joel about their concerns. Most importantly, you don’t overstep. You allow him to speak, giving them his practiced lines, finding solutions to their issues and pacifying their fears.

You however, feel like you’re struggling to find your place at the house. In your attempt to fix the holes in Joel’s socks you accidentally sewed the socks shut, leaving Tess to pull the stitches and mend them properly. Tess gives you some rags and asks that you clean all of the surfaces in the house. She stops you ten minutes later when you can’t stop sneezing from the dust. She assigns you to the laundry instead, but the cold, soapy water makes your hands break out in hives. She makes a joke about you being allergic to hard work, but she doesn’t laugh. You think she was joking.

Sometimes you work outside with Rosie in the mornings, but you hate getting all dirty and smelling like earthworms. You pull up too many weeds that aren’t weeds and she sends you inside, urging you to use your talents elsewhere. What talents? You tag along with Sasha sometimes, and listen as she tells you how to set a trap for small animals, but you feel completely useless at her side. She’s good at so many things and you feel like a clumsy oaf, even more so when you trip in the woods one afternoon and scare off the deer she’d been tracking for an hour. She doesn’t attempt to hide her irritation the way Rosie did.

Kerri and Bianca try to use your help in the kitchen, but you burn all of the chicken on the grill your first night cooking. They switch you to helping with preparing the meals, but you cut yourself so badly with the knife that Joel threatens to take you back to the clinic and give you more of his blood. You stand against the doorframe with your arm above your head for forty five minutes before it stops bleeding and he calms down. No more kitchen work for you, he mutters as he holds you on the couch later, letting you rest while everyone else cleans up the meal.

All of the women are too nice to give you the dirty looks that you think you deserve. They all earn their place here and what can you do? Nothing. You try not to be sad the day that your only friend at the house, Bianca, moves out. Is she actually your friend, or is she just too timid to tell you off? You go up to the attic to help her pack up her few belongings before Tess sends you downstairs to help Kerri pack up to leave the room she’s been sharing with Sasha. 

You’re nervous that with Bianca gone you’ll be expected to take over her chores, which are a little bit of everything. You seem to mess up every chore you’re assigned. What the fuck are you supposed to do with yourself? As you walk down the stairs you hear Tess tell Bianca that this is for the best, and that she’s just getting bigger. You’d noticed Bianca gaining weight but you didn’t know that was a problem. Did Joel say something about her weight gain? Why would he care? 

You let your thoughts spiral a bit, wondering if Joel cared about your weight, if he would ask you to leave if you put on more pounds. Fat and useless, what a combo that would be. You’re not exactly skinny as it is, and you’re not even as nice looking as Bianca, with her kind, warm, brown eyes and her long, chestnut hair. She’s very shy and nearly silent but she’s very pretty. You see men look at her. Most people don’t give you a second glance, but that’s the way you prefer it. There’s a reason you chopped all your hair off and wore tight bindings across your chest for months.

You don’t want men looking at you. When a man looks at you he’s only thinking about one thing. He’s thinking what he can get out of you, what he can take from you; except Joel, you tell yourself. Joel doesn’t look at you like that. Joel doesn’t take, he wouldn’t do that. He still looks at you with wonder. He still has so many questions in his eyes about you that you’ve been slowly trying to answer. Maybe if you let him in, show him you’re trying to trust, he won’t care that you aren’t as useful in the home as the other women. 

–

Joel’s schedule is packed, making up for meetings he missed while he visited with you all day, every day in the clinic for nearly two weeks. It means you have less reading time together during the week, so your time together dwindles to holding hands under the table at mealtimes, quick smooches as he pulls you into his office between meetings, and nuzzling into each other outside your bedroom door in the mornings. 

Your only real alone time now is walking to and from the meeting on Thursdays. Each week after the meeting ends the group members filter out, some staying back to help you put away the folding chairs. As a group, you all walk together to the town square before splitting up; them heading out of town while you and Joel head back to the house. Each of these evenings allows you two a few stolen moments alone on the porch of the house before returning inside.

First you just spend them with your foreheads touching, noses brushing, and shared giggles between your pressed together lips. The second week Joel drags you onto his lap on the front porch bench, kissing and licking at your neck while you card your fingers through his hair. You start to panic when you feel him getting aroused underneath you, but the terrified voice in the back of your mind is muted when the front door opens and Sasha comes out for firewood, interrupting and ending your time alone together.

The following week is Thanksgiving, one of the few holidays The Valley celebrates. Joel makes sure you’re sitting next to him at the head table. There is so much going on, almost every single person – save for a small patrol – is gathered together for this feast. Everyone joins hands above the table while someone makes a prayer, but Joel doesn’t let go of yours for a long time afterward.

Even though you haven’t been getting as much alone time together, Joel feels like you’re still growing ever-closer. He has you next to him for this holiday meal so he can show you off. He wants everyone in The Valley to see that you trust him, that you’re becoming his. He notices your wide eyes scan the room, overwhelmed by the very large crowd of people and the raucous event. He leans over and whispers in your ear.

“What are you thankful for, baby?”

He sees your eyes cast down, trying to hide a shy smile. You squeeze his hand and meet his eyes. He squeezes yours back to ground you, to reassure you, like he’s taming a feral little animal.

The following week as you and Joel put away the chairs after the meeting, you hear a man call out a goodnight and you look up just in time to see the last farmer heading out the door. You turn in a circle to confirm there is no one else in the room with you and Joel, and your eyes come back to the door just as it clicks shut. The silence that follows is deafening. You’re completely alone with Joel. Completely.

What strikes you is not the all-encompassing fear that grips you; what strikes you is how this is not the usual fear you have come to know from being alone with a man. For once, you’re not scared of what Joel might do – by now you trust him not to hurt you. You have been mostly alone with him so many times in the last two months and he has always been gentle and respectful, never crossing your still-unspoken boundaries.

After he told you about his daughter, something inside of you shifted. For the first time in your whole life you thought that perhaps you belonged somewhere. Being here with him feels right, it feels like your destiny. You’re not scared of him doing something, you’re scared of him doing nothing. What if he doesn’t want you as badly as you want him? What if he got tired of waiting for you? What if he rejects you?

Joel sees you staring at the door with that look in your eye, the look like you want to run right through it, leaving behind a cartoonish hole in the door in your wake. 

“PJ”, he says, and your eyes find his, “Let’s put away these chairs and we can go.” 

–

He doesn’t try to hold your hand on the way home, worried that you’re too skittish for him to touch, sure that you’d bolt if he tried. You’ve never done that, you’ve never run from him and yet it’s always in the back of his mind. He’s so worried about losing you. He thinks about it all the time. It terrifies him.

The hour is late when you return to the house and you find it dark, everyone already in bed. You both head upstairs but instead of heading into his room as he usually does, he turns with you and stands outside your door. You tilt your head back to look up at him. Your hair has been growing out, looking more like a pixie cut now. He can just see the wet of your eyes twinkle in the darkness.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your voice faint even in the silent house. 

A deep rumble emanates from Joel’s chest. He can’t enter your room. It’s been one of Tess’ rules since the beginning and it’s very important to her. The position he holds in The Valley, the way that everyone looks up to him, she said they’ve put him on a pedestal. And once on a pedestal you have to be very careful because everyone can see you. 

Everyone knows he lives with all of these women, and everyone knows that he sleeps with most of them. Everyone but you. He’s kept this knowledge from you on purpose. They are consenting adults, they each have their own space and their own autonomy. If they want to initiate sex with him, they come to his room. He doesn’t go to them, keeping it entirely on their terms. 

But how does he reject your offer to come into your room without telling you the rest? Without revealing all of his half-truths and omissions. It’s taken so long for you to trust him, he can’t destroy that trust. But won’t saying no hurt you too? He wants to say yes but he can’t. How the fuck does he say no to you? Shit. He’s already waited too long to answer, his silence has gone on for too long.

“We could… close the door,” you offer. His eyes clench shut.

Jesus Christ you’re going to kill him. His dick is aching in his jeans right now. He’s been waiting for you to make an offer like this for so long. Waking up every morning hard, having to jerk off like a teenager before he can even start his day. None of the women have even tried to come to his room for sex since he brought you down off that mountain. He didn’t ask but he’s sure they see him preoccupied with you. Hell, he’s damn near drowning in you.

He’s never been like this with a woman he’s brought into the house. Never kissing them in the kitchen or touching their knees under the dinner table. He’s never made out with one of them in his office between meetings or woken up early just to smell their hair in the hallway. He’s gone off the fucking rails and it’s all because of you. But he can’t break the rule, he can’t accept your invitation into your room. He also can’t tell you about the rule.

Your heart is going to beat out of your chest, you’re sure of it. Joel reaches one hand forward to grab yours, finally touching you. His calloused fingertips trace the inside of your wrist, gently moving across the delicate skin. You can barely see in the dark but you know he’s moved closer because you can smell him, feel the heat of his body radiating off him. His clothes smell like sunshine, line-dried in the crisp autumn air. You smell the day wafting off his skin, a hint of sweat and leather hits your nostrils.

Your knees begin to knock together and you’re so afraid that they’re going to give out under you when he rejects you. You reach your free hand up to brace yourself, placing it on his chest, feeling his own heart thumping wildly underneath. You barely hear him say not tonight PJ over the pulsing beat in your ears, but before you can react to his refusal you feel his arms snake around your waist and he’s pressing his lips onto yours, hard. 

He pushes you up against the open door frame of your room, his feet planted securely in the hallway. You immediately grant his tongue access to your mouth and he begins to explore it, for the first time. You’ve never felt his hot wet tongue against yours, and you think it just might be the thing that kills you. You moan into his mouth as you throw your arms around his neck.

He continues to kiss you with moving lips and licking tongue, your hands moving to twist in his curls – curls that are a bit longer than when you first met him. His arms roam freely up and down your back, pulling you close to him and pressing your hard nipples against the broad planes of his chest. You’re lost in the heat of him, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressing to yours. You’ve waited so long for this. You don’t know how long it’s going to last but you never want it to end.

Driven by lust, madness, or both, you cup your hand over the zipper on his jeans, palming his erection. It feels so big in your hold. He exhales a moan into your mouth and clutches his hand overtop of yours, pressing you into him more firmly, curving your fingers around the heft of it. Fuck, it’s so hard. You feel wetness dripping out of you into your underwear. Holy fuck you’re getting dizzy. 

Unable to even think straight, you don’t notice he’s let go of your hand until you feel it cupping the front of your jeans, and the noise that leaves your mouth is sinful. He slams his mouth overtop of yours to muffle your wail but it still echoes down the silent hall. You know he must feel the heat radiating off your core, he must already feel how embarrassingly wet you are. He brings both hands to the front of your jeans and undoes the button, pausing to look you in the eyes and wait for you to nod him on further. You do.

As he takes down the zipper you close your eyes and think this is finally it, you’re finally going to feel him where you need him the most. But instead of feeling his fingers skirt along the waistband of your underwear, you feel them touching your lips. You open your eyes and his face is inches from yours. He nods his head and tells you to open, and lets his index and middle finger pass over your lips and touch your tongue.

He doesn’t have to tell you to close your mouth, you do it on your own, closing your eyes again and letting your pooling saliva coat his digits. You lick your tongue between them, along his knuckles and the pads of his fingers, then you gently suck, running your tongue flat along the underside as if it were another part of him in your mouth instead. You wish there was more light in the hallway because when you open your eyes to look at his face you’re pretty sure he looks the way you feel.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth slowly, a trail of saliva connecting them to your tongue briefly, before he dips them into your underwear and slides them right over your clit. He wouldn’t have known of course, but he didn’t need you to wet his fingers, you were already soaking wet from just his touch. The state he finds you in sends jolts of electricity surging down his cock. 

He gently rubs his finger alongside your bundle of nerves, dragging them down to collect even more of your ample wetness. You scramble your hands up the front of his shirt, longing for skin-to-skin contact with him. You shuffle your fingers through his sparse chest hair and drag your nails over his hardening nipples, causing him to crash his lips against yours to silence his own groan this time.

He pushes his middle finger towards your hole and feels you nodding as he does it. His finger slides inside you so easily; you’re so fucking wet. He’s never felt anyone this wet before. You reach around behind him and shove your hands down the back of his pants, grabbing handfuls of his ass, squealing against his mouth when you discover that he’s not wearing underwear.

He continues to work his middle finger in and out of your tight hole, spreading his index finger to run it up alongside your exposed clit. He knows you like it because you’re whimpering and clawing at him non-stop. It’s so loud in the otherwise dead-silent house but he can’t bring himself to give a single shit who else can hear you. Every sound you make goes straight to his leaking dick.

He pulls his mouth off yours and brings his face to your hair, inhaling deeply. Today was your bath day and your hair smells like soap and lavender. He likes it but he prefers when it smells slept-in, smells like you. He lowers his mouth and sucks a dark mark into your skin just below where your neck meets your shoulder, then he brings his lips to your ear, biting and kissing your earlobe. 

He whispers in your ear; you’re so fucking wet baby, you’re so tight, can feel how wet you are, can you feel it baby?, I’m gonna smell like you after this ya know, you’re all over me, can you hear it?, you’re gonna feel me for days baby, for days.

You yank on his arms, pulling him as close to you as possible and orgasm with a squeal, shuddering in his hold and panting his name over and over into the hollow of his neck. He takes his hands out of your pants, glistening with your release, and greedily shoves his fingers into his mouth above your head. Once clean he brings his face to the side of your neck, nuzzling you and nipping at your skin there and breathing in your heady scent.

Before either of you get a chance to give any due attention to his painful, raging erection, Tess’ door opens and she comes out of the room to head towards the bathroom. You yip in embarrassment and cross into your room, closing the door in Joel’s face. Joel shoots Tess a pissed off look and Tess shrugs her shoulders.

“Sorry, it sounded like you guys were done,” she says flippantly as she closes the bathroom door.

Joel knocks lightly at your door a few times and you open it a bit, mortified at being caught acting like a couple of horny teenagers. 

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he coos. “We didn’t do anythin’ wrong.” 

That’s true. He made sure to stay outside of your room so Tess has nothing to be upset about. He leans his face into the crack of your door and you give him several kisses on the lips but then you hear Tess coming back out of the bathroom and you shut the door in his face again, muttering a flustered goodnight from the other side of the wood.

He turns to Tess again, visibly angry and she suppresses a smile. She resists teasing him verbally and instead kisses him on the cheek and wishes him a goodnight also, closing her door behind her. Joel takes himself into his room and fucks his fist – again – to thoughts of you.

–

The week passes quickly, alone time together still nonexistent as Joel’s responsibilities increase. He always seems to be out of the house on patrols, having meetings, and visiting community members. He argues with Tess about his schedule being too full and she tells him winter is hard, and that people need extra reassurances to make it through. She also reminds him, in a whisper, that he has spent a lot of time focusing on one person and ignoring the rest, and he needs to make up for that. His only response is a growl before he leaves the room.

Joel finds you outside the bathroom door one morning and you blush, realizing you’re wearing one of his button-up shirts, ready to defend yourself for pilfering it off the laundry line. Instead of admonishing you, he wordlessly pulls the open collar over your one shoulder a bit, observing the fading mark he’d sucked into your skin. He kisses over it gently and you think he’s having regrets about marking you like that, but you say nothing, a little embarrassed by the fact that you stare at it every morning in the bathroom mirror.

When Thursday comes around again you find yourself alone once more after the meeting, entering a house that is dark and quiet. Instead of going upstairs you both go into the kitchen for a glass of water, slowly taking sips from your glass before you lose all control and launch yourself at him. This might be your first time instigating this kind of behavior but your need for him fuels your boldness.

You grab at him everywhere you can reach, pulling him tight to you, feeling the hardness of his shoulders under your hands and the softness of his belly against yours. You pull on fistfulls of his hair and shove your tongue into his mouth, eliciting groans from him. You don’t even care how desperate you appear as you writhe against him, whimpering. You are desperate for him. 

You need him to hold you tight, to kiss you hard, to make you feel like a woman. You need to belong to him, to matter to him, to make him happy. You need him to give you purpose, to bring you joy, to make you whole. You need him to make you forget every man that came before him, every hand that touched you with bad intentions. You need to feel his body enveloping you. You need him to consume you.

He pulls you into the dining room and lifts your legs up to place your butt on the table’s edge but instead you wrap both legs around his waist. He growls at your aggressive move and pushes your back down firmly on the dining table, keeping himself against you. He begins to grind himself against your core, unable and unwilling to hold himself back.

Feeling like feral animals, you lick and moan into each other’s mouths as the table creaks beneath you. You shove your hands up the back of his shirt, clawing marks down him. He moves his face along your neck, taking deep inhaling breaths and nipping at your skin, debating on whether to give you a fresh mark. Fisting your hands in his hair, you tug on his locks and interrupt his thoughts, earning groans that he muffles into the crook of your shoulder. 

Suddenly the lights in the kitchen flip on, and Tess is standing in the doorway.

“Please,” she says calmly, “Not on the table where we eat.”

You clap your hand over your mouth, silencing your loud yelp. Joel pushes himself off the table, also startled by her appearance. You take the opportunity to scramble away and run up the stairs. Hearing your door slam closed, Joel turns to Tess, snarling.

“What the fuck, Tess? What the fuck,” grabbing the edge of the table in a splintering grip. 

“Why don’t you two just fuck already?” she chuckles, trying to rile him up.

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ trying to do,” he growls, slamming his fists down several times. 

“Don’t break my fucking table,” she snaps at him. 

Joel grabs her by the hips and pushes her face down bent over the table, slamming his body into her ass. Tess just lays there, letting him rut into her for a moment. He grabs her by the hair, yanking her up, and takes a big inhale into the back of her head, continuing to grind his pelvis into her. He takes a few more breaths and stops moving his hips, calming down. Eventually he releases her, pushing her away from him harshly.

“Yeah, I don’t smell like her, do I?” Tess says. 

He mutters something she can’t quite make out, still pissed off. She can see his softening erection but a wild fucking look remains in his eyes. She watches him point to the table several times before he opens his mouth. 

“That’s my fuckin’ table. I’ll do whatever I fuckin’ want to it,” and with that he goes up to bed. 

He jerks off in his room alone. Again.

–

Once again the interim week is relatively tame, as you don’t have much chance to be alone together. You manage to sneak in kisses and touches when you can, but your stolen moments are no longer innocent. There’s no more playful giggles or gentle caresses. You exchange lustful glances over the table, your kisses are laden with tongue and your touches are now groping and needy. 

You wake up every morning having dreamt of him all night, and spend every day wet and wanting, full-body shudders running through you at the memory of his hands and lips on you. Everytime you pass him in the hallway you ache for him, fleeting touches never fulfilling the longing you feel. You can’t get to sleep at night without touching yourself, covering your face with your pillow to muffle your pleasure. 

You don’t remember being this wound up over anyone in your whole life, especially not since the world ended and every day became a fight to survive. Touching yourself never brought you such relief before, but imagining it’s Joel touching you ignites a spark deep inside and your desire is driving you mad. Joel makes you forget how miserable things are, how scared you’ve been. He makes you feel safe.

The next Thursday you come back from the meeting much later than expected, Tess is waiting up – drinking tea in the dining room, a bit concerned. She sees you both enter, him practically carrying you inside and up the stairs. When he comes back down she goes to make some commentary about you two “finally” doing the deed when she sees a fresh wet stain high inside the thigh of his pants. Did he come in his pants?

“What the fuck?” she can’t help it from slipping out. 

He doesn’t meet her eyes, just shrugs his shoulders and shuffles into the kitchen for a drink. He doesn’t seem agitated like he was when she interrupted him before so she thinks he must at least be satisfied with whatever happened tonight. He passes back through the room and mutters a goodnight, heading upstairs without elaborating on the state he’s in or what kept you two so late.

She’s known Joel for many years and has felt a lot of things for him, but at no point did she let herself believe that he felt anything close to love for her. She had actually convinced herself that he was incapable of feeling love, and is pretty sure he’s convinced himself of the same thing. But what is this if not true intimacy?

She wasn’t sure about you at first, especially given your penchant for fucking up your chores. But you are friendly to your housemates and giving in the community. You’re kind but reserved, and although it takes you a while to warm up to people, Tess firmly believes that you’re a genuinely good person, and – most importantly–- could be truly good for Joel. She sees that Joel lets his guard down around you, and that you like Joel for who he really is, which is something he doesn’t show to anyone.

She knows he’s kept things from you, and wonders how much he’s been manipulating you in-between letting his true self show. Maybe that’s not the right word for what Joel does, manipulate. It doesn’t feel like that’s what he’s doing when you’re the target of it. It feels good, amazing even, because when Joel makes you feel like you matter to him, it’s intoxicating. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world.

She wonders if things are going to change, and how they might change. She thinks that if Joel can admit his true feelings and commit, then his relationship with you could change the very trajectory of this community. She and Joel worked very hard to build this community up but she knows that it’s stable enough now that a change like this won’t topple it. She quietly hopes it will change significantly.

She doesn’t love how subserviently women are treated in this community and has always wondered if it would transform if Joel took a partner. For a while she hoped that partner would be her, but that thought died out long ago. If Joel is seen in public showing love and affection for an equal female partner, it could benefit women and the community as a whole going forward.

She lets herself envision that future, where Joel embraces his feelings and makes changes in his home and the community, and the positive effects are felt all across The Valley. But the biggest hurdle will be getting Joel to admit to himself – and everyone else – the softness and vulnerability that you bring out in him. Letting himself love someone means opening himself up to loss, and if there’s one thing that Joel Miller does not do, it’s lose.

🖤

NEXT

Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant about Cult Leader Joel. 🫂 I appreciate you SO much.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

Might I have hcs of Bosch, Ed and Luke(or you can do one of them, if that's what you're comfortable with!) having a short s/o? My 4'11 ft ass thinks that hugging them would be like having them as heavy blankets <3

combining these two asks together! man, low 5ft, am i short? is 5'3 considered short? no one in the comments answer that. i will not be responding ( ; ω ; )

Bosch - 5'7 ft

Compared to Bosch, your height difference is relatively reasonable.

He's actually a lot more conscious about your height than you were and has an overwhelming urge to protect you because of it. 

The first time he noticed your height, was when you two were hauling large equipment around the gym. And you stubbornly huffed, saying you could help despite Coach’s warnings.

So now here you were, crumbling under the weight of the heavy machinery. 

“Lift it higher, it’s slacking on your side.” He said, adjusting his grip in case it spontaneously fell. 

“This is literally the highest my arms can reach.” 

Safe to say, he doesn’t let you get near the equipment room after it came crashing down on your feet. 

Whenever you talk to him, he glances at the top of your head before shooting back down to your eyes.

And one time mid-conversation he reached down to pat it. 

You were just so...tiny.

But he snapped out of his thoughts and pulled his hand back embarrassingly after he realized what he had done. Please don't ask him about it because he didn’t know why he did that either.

Bosch thinks the biggest problem he’s encountered regarding your height, had to be moving through large crowds. Mostly because he lost you a couple of times due to how easily you blended in with everyone else.

He even makes sure to hold your hand when walking in front of you, so you don't get pushed apart.

He does give you more leeway than other people due to your height.

Like when you mess up something of his or accidentally wear his gym clothes.

Bosch isn't too tolerant of most people but he won't be as harsh on you.

And if someone brought it up to him, he just shrugs and says "So?" 

But regardless of it all, Bosch is still the small spoon in bed. 

He likes the feeling of being cradled in your arms, as he pulls you closer, with his hands linked around your torso. He finds comfort in you all the same, but now there's a hint of protectiveness that comes with it.

Ed - 6 ft

Ed honestly thought you were a kid when you first approached him and he told you to run back to your parents because he wasn't in the mood to babysit you.

So yeah, he knows firsthand how people see you.

That whole thing, about losing you in a crowd doesn't happen because you two would never be caught in one in the first place.

Partly because he hates being in them and no crowds of people ever formed at night.

Although he doesn't constantly make jokes at your expense, he does tease you about it every once in a while. Like when you stand on your tiptoes in an attempt to kiss him.

And instead of giving in to your whims, he'll sit back and watch you struggle.

"Need something?"

Ed knows what you're trying to do, he's just being a dick about it. He wants to see how long you'll drag this out before he finally relents.

He hates to be the one to say it, but you need to work on your intimidation. No one's going to take you seriously because of your height. 

But that's completely different than when he sees people babying you because he'll shut that shit down immediately.

Calls you 'cute' nicknames like Runt, Maus, and Half-Pint.

Ok, maybe they're not that cute, but he doesn't give many people nicknames. So…yay?

Your height, in a sense, does make you appear younger. 

And he finds it funny when Bar owners ID the group because he knows they're trying to single you out. 

Most of his clothes are big on you when you wear them, and his blankets/comforters practically bury you under their weight. You almost gave him a heart attack when he flopped down on his bed, only to hear a muffled squeak from under the covers. 

He looms over you like a threat when he sees people wandering too close. Yeah, you can pack a punch, but it still gnaws at him how easily someone could snatch you up. So you need to be in his line of sight whenever you're hanging out with him.

He may be a bit paranoid but that's because he cares, believe it or not.

Luke - 6'1 ft

If you didn't know you were short before, Luke would've 100% told you that you were.

The first time he considered your height to be an issue was when he saw you struggling to close your fist. He lent you some of his old wraps, so you don’t mess up your hands and land yourself in the ER. 

But when you couldn't throw a proper punch, he undid them, thinking you wrapped it all wrong.

Turns out his hands were much bigger than yours. Much bigger. To the point it practically engulfed yours. So his wraps were close to useless since the extra fabric accumulated around your knuckles. 

He ended up buying you a new set to fit your hands better and taught you various ways to secure it so it doesn't slip off. 

It's just the small things like that he doesn't usually think twice about, that he now has to consider.

He would also have to adjust the equipment in the gym so it's leveled with your height.

Wouldn't want his top student falling behind, now would he?

Loves the way his clothes engulf your form when he drapes them on you. And laughs at how you're practically drowning in it.

Don't be fooled. Even though he's your coach, he's your boyfriend first. So he's not above making comments about your height. "Woah, Didn't see you down there." , "You should drink more milk, I heard it's good for your bones."

Hey, don't get so defensive now. He was just messing with you.

He'll wrap his arms around your waist and hoist you up. Your cute surprised reactions are enough for him to pepper your face with kisses.

Luke is the kind of guy who, if you ask for help to reach something on a shelf, will take it and put it on a higher one. If not, he would hold it over your head and ask for a kiss before he handed it over to you.

All in all, your height is one of the many reasons he adores you and he wouldn't want to change a thing about it.

Jamie - 5'9 ft

Being short around this guy should be written off as a form of corporal punishment, especially for the hell he's going to put you through as long as you're with him.

He's not even the tallest one of the bunch, but he definitely acts like it.

Jamie has an unlimited supply of short names ranging from Ankle-Biter to Short-Stuff. All of which were intended to piss you off.

Occasionally, this guy would scoop you up, saying how cute and tiny you were.

He uses your shoulder as an armrest when leaning on you and laughs if you make a fuss about it.

During the Lunar New Year, the festivities in Hong Hu Lu partied well into the night. Meaning, most of the seats available for the public were being used by the partygoers.

Wanting to find a place to enjoy your food, you asked Jamie if you could use the chair he was sitting on. 

And with a shit-eating grin, he tells you no, but you could sit on his lap for the time being.

Watch out because he'll randomly pinch your cheeks mid-conversation. 

Jamie purposely takes pictures of you from the top to show you how you look from his POV.

Because of your short stature, he gives you piggyback rides back to your apartment whenever you fall asleep beside him.

It's all fun and games when it's just you and him because you know he's not actively trying to hurt your feelings. 

But he doesn't take too kindly to those who think they can comment on your height.

Hypocrite, he knows, but that's because he's your boyfriend so he gets a pass. Not so much other people.

Overall a teasing boyfriend, but in his opinion, your height is definitely one of the best qualities about you.

[rowdyluv]

Luke’s reaction to Rosey being pregnant? Who was the first person to find out rosey was pregnant?

note: remember that rosey is a nickname Luke gave to you when you two were younger….

Ellen and your (Rosey’s) mom were the first to know. The mom’s were having lunch at the Hughes’s when you texted them both asking which test was the best to buy. Which put the mom’s into a frenzy. They both jumped into action forgetting their lunch. Both were way too aggressive about finding out where you were in that moment. Neither mother stopped long enough to process that it was their teenage, college student daughter and son’s girlfriend who they were talking to.

As for Luke ..

He honestly thought you (rosey) were playing a joke on him at first, he wasn’t very happy initially either... (more in depth further down) plus They had just started their first year of college when everything surfaced for them.

Timeline Breakdown: so we established in a previous post that Emersyn’s birthday is April 8th 2022. To lay out how everything falls into place:

Using math, and then using a generator online to double check myself, with that birthdate a round about date of conception would be between June 30th to July 4th of 2021..

I’m thinking of going on the line with usually has more of an irregular cycle, often skipping months as is so she didn’t think much of it. Until she starts to feel sluggish and sick. She notices she’s pushing two missed periods and is more into the 9 weeks mark. By now classes have started at umich. She’s missing quite a few of classes because she’s having problems with nausea. The first trimester ends in October.

She went to the closest pharmacy and that’s when you call the moms. They had her go back to the dorms and wait for them to come. They showed up with test after test.

Rosey stuck all different types of tests in a cup, the next few minutes were agonizingly slow for all three women. Of course each one of the used tests had their own form of positive.

September 13, is the day she found out for sure. Rosey wasn’t sure when to tell Luke, she didn’t want to right away because she hadn’t wrapped her own head around it yet. But Luke being Luke and he was antsy about you still being sick. The moms talked her into telling him the same day…

Luke came over to her dorm right after his practice and was concerned to see his mom and Rosey’s mom in the kitchenette / lounge area. He asked the moms where Rosey was and Ellen quietly told him to go talk to her in her room.

A million thoughts ran through his mind as he approached her door. Was something wrong with her? Had she been holding something back from him? He knocked on her bedroom door, small soft voice called out shakily, “you can come in,”Luke pushed the door open and soaked in the sight of his usual bubbly, warm, inviting girlfriend that sits on the middle of her bed closed off, pale, and almost unrecognizable. Luke took a step in and shut the door behind him before walking towards her. “Ba—” She cut him off. She flinched from at the start of the pet name. “Don’t say that, dear god please don’t say that.” Her voice continued to shake, this time only worse. Luke looked at her questioningly. She glanced up and met his eyes. Then it happened. The words poured out of her mouth like she spewing them out. She couldn’t wait a moment longer after seeing his the hurt, questioning eyes.

“Luke-I’m-Pregnant.” The words came out practically as one single word

In a blink of an Rosey was a mess of tears, stumbling off if her bed, over to stand in front of him.

Moments of silence passed between them.

“Lukey.” Her voice barely audible, her body rattled her with sobs. Luke was stiff as a board wanting to reach out for her but his body physically unwilling. He hated seeing her cry. It killed him, but his twinge of anger was fueling him more than anything else.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant, y/n?!” Luke’s voice bounced around in her head a lot louder than it actually was when he spoke. Rosey took a couple steps away from Luke. He never rose his voice at her. “I’m serious y/n. Is this some kind of joke you set up since you’ve been sick?” Luke’s volume was much higher this time. Rosey was shocked that he had yelled at her, she was even more shocked that he addressed her by her legal name. The last time Luke had directly called her, by her legal name was such a long time ago neither of them remember when it happened.

Disbelief was written all across her face, eyes wide, and her heart racing.

“Luke Warren Hughes.” His names left her lips in an angry whisper. A dramatic contrast to that of his booming predecessor questioning. “What I mean is that you and I are having a baby together. Whether you’re on board or not.” Rosey paused taking a centering breath. “That is what happens when we have sex and we make the decision to continue even when you realize there isn’t a condom to be found in your’s or Jack’s room at the lake house.” With renowned confidence she approached him and pushed her flat palm on his chest with emphasis on the word ‘we’. Her voice getting stronger, louder as she went on. Getting angrier at the thought of all he said.

“We had unprotected sex Luke. It was a possibility, you know that. It was a mutual decision to have sex without protection.” Rosey dropped her forehead to his chest. Luke’s arms twitch at his side, wanting to embrace her, he just can’t make himself move to do so. “We talked.. We said we aren’t going to be with anyone else why does it matter. It wasn’t a big deal then to go without one and you.. YOU said that we would be okay with anything to come our way this year. You promised me. I know we didn’t expect a baby to be apart of college, this early on, or really I don’t know how you feel about wanting kids.. So why would you even think I would joke about this.”

Luke’s head was spinning he wasn’t sure what to say or do. She shocked him when she suddenly announced it the way she did. He was just confused and he just did what he does best and it was blurting out the first thing in is mind. He wanted to turn and leave to figure out what to say but if he leaves he knows that would look like he’s walking out on their relationship.

As if telepathy was real Ellen knocked on the door and entered after announcing herself. “Now that emotions are out. Let’s go both of you, out here. We’re getting this settled, and Luke.” Ellen’s tone of voice started of soft and turned to one only mother ready to discipline has. “Your father and I raised you better than this. I thought you knew better than to raise your voice at your significant other. Even when angry you can keep a level tone of voice.” Luke’s face falls as he glances over at the love of his life. He knew yelling at her was wrong. He knew everything he said to her was wrong.

How am I ever going to get myself out of this.

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 4

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You decide to have some fun; you also talk to old friends. (3,3k)

READ ON AO3

previous part || next part

It's surprising how many times you see him, actually.

It's surprising because you thought – if you're lucky – it's gonna be after six months, on a check-up visit. Technically, he had no business to be here, especially considering how hidden he was, how he wasn't the type to chit-chat. It was okay, you didn't mind it.

And the day after he texted you, when you close clinic, you could see him right in front of the building, his hands in pockets, looking straight at you. It was a hypnotising experience though, especially when you walked in his direction, your knees like marshmellows, and he was still looking.

"Your mechanic was pretty nice." you said, tilting your head. "He said it's gonna be done in two weeks or less since he has work to do."

"Mhm." he matched your pace, walking with you side by side. "Finally doing something with it, aren't we?" he raised his eyebrow.

You laughed. "You make me look like I'm a bad car owner."

"Am I? Or that's just your thoughts?"

His comment made you open your mouth in pure disbelief at his honesty – you nudged him with before realizing how he could react at that gesture. He wasn't exactly a touchy-feely person, but there was no comment from him, so you were glad.

"Mean." you murmured, amused.

"'st speaking my mind, Addison."

"Uh-huh. That's why you're here? To speak your mind?"

He sighed, his eyes on the road in front of you. "You really like asking questions, don't you?"

"I like knowing things. Don't you?" you mimicked his low tone.

"I like knowing things. But I don't ask questions if I'm certain." he answered, straightening his back; a cracking sound that came out automatically made you shiver. "It's just walking you home. 's all, as I said, Sparkles would hate to have another vet."

"Right. Safety reasons, yeah?"

"Good girl. Learning so fast."

Motherfucker knew how to get to you – just after this comment, you had absolutely nothing to say, which made him visibly amused; his brow cocked, and he let out a low chuckle, looking away from you again. Thankful for the darkness, you just walked with him to start another topic after a while – about his cat, of course.

You had to leave 'good girl' behind, to not provoke him to say more because he could easily find out that nickname works for you perfectly. Especially if someone is British, especially if someone is just alluring as him.

And he had blonde hair. A bit curly. That's literally the recipe for a disaster.

After that interaction, he was walking you off to your apartment, day by day. It wasn't surprising after three first times – you just knew he's gonna be here, but you caught yourself looking for him, interested.

Not like you cared – at least that's what you told yourself – but it was curiosity speaking since you knew he was doing that just because of your car. Just because he somehow cared, just because he wanted to know you're safe.

Cute.

What was less cute though, you had to talk with Celia. You just had to and there was no excuse since your car already was in another mechanic's garage. And, Simon knew that you needed to talk with her, so he would ask about it eventually, so dodging the situation wasn't a plan, no. Not when he'd laugh the shit out of you, he did enough with implying you're not taking proper care of your car.

He had a point, though.

You took a few hours off in the morning, leaving Bernie on her own, just to see Celia – you even had your guilt cookies, big jar in your purse. It's not a surprise for anyone who knows you that you bake when stressed, and you certainly were stressed before this meeting. She could tell you anything; and it wouldn't be such a surprise if she'd tell you to go to hell.

A hope was there, though. Not only Simon said it, but when you thought it, it would be a real shame to ruin a friendship, running ten years, just because of a toxic guy that wasn't worth it. Not only that, your best friend had all the right to say I told you so.

You knew you kinda deserved that for being such a blind bitch.

Knock to her door came after a minute of staring dumbily at them, like it would help in something, or if she would magically open it without you knocking. It was a quiet knock though; shy one because, truthfully, you wanted to sprint from her house as far as possible. Confrontation? Not your best quality, no. Not at least in situation like these, when you know you have to apologize from the bottom of your heart.

A minute passed, and you knocked again, louder this time. You started considering walking away you thought maybe she wasn't home, but right after that, no one but Celia opened the door. Her eyebrows furrowed, arms were crossed against her chest, and you immediately knew what her attiude is.

Jesus Christ, it couldn't be easy, could it?

"Hi, Celia. Got a minute?" you asked; hesitantly. She could slam her door in your face, after all.

"Depends. You here because of the car?"

You sighed. "I'm here because I want to apologize, actually."

She seemed surprised as you said it; nonetheless, she let you in, leading you to kitchen. It was the main place of talks in her house, you could say that – not living room, not dining room, kitchen. Very big one, pretty, a table with two seats by side, so you sat there with her, clearing your throat. Wondering how to start.

How do you start conversation like that?

You had the simplest words on your mind. "I was a bitch." rolled off your tongue without even thinking. "I still am, though – but I was a bitch to you when I shouldn't have been. You wanted the best for me, and I just... well, I'm not proud of what I did. I should listen, not throw hands at you. It's not how it was supposed to be, it's not how I wanted it to be. Like, I know also that I should apologize way, way earlier, but-"

"Addie, c'mon." redhead interrupted you with a wave of her hand. "We're both bitches, we literally fought like fuckin' kids. Let me ask you one thing, you done?"

"With him?"

"Yeah, with that scumbag."

"Funny. You're the second person who talks of him this way" you mused, remembering this one situation with Simon. "Done, yeah. For five months right now."

Celia was silent for a moment, obviously analyzing the situation she found herself in; then, with a sigh, she looked again at you, her expression unreadable.

"Good to have your ass back on board, sister." she murmured, smiling a bit.

Next thing she did, was hitting your arm with such power that you let out a little 'ow', laughing with her in the same moment.

"Deserved." she pointed at you. "I apologize too, though. I could be better, I could just... well, tell you everything a bit differently. Not so harsh, you were in love with that prick." your friend muttered, rolling her eyes. "Okay, enough of apologies, though. Who said he's a douche, though? That person might be my second best friend."

So, you told her – almost everything, saving little details about his appearance or aura to yourself; Celia was a pretty fan of him, especially his snarkiness and comments. Yet, she was a bit jealous that you had the audacity to bring your car to other mechanic; mostly, she was jealous of the car, not you.

Her baby, as she liked to tell everyone. She picked it out for you from her uncle, repaired it, added some "cool shit" (it's a mystery what cool shit is, you didn't ask though).

Nonetheless, she was more than glad that you managed to find someone who's gonna help you with that, and you came to her purely to fix something between you two.

A friendship that – you promised yourself – would live through everything, no matter what would happen, no matter of circumstances. She was your person, just like Rosalie.

Who, speaking of, left million voice messages on your phone on your way back to clinic, so you considered it the perfect ocassion to listen to them all.

Apart from her excitement on your car situation, she invited you to her local bar for... a party. You didn't exactly know what party was about, or if it was just a casual hangout, but you agreed to go. It's been a while since you took a break from clinic and actually spent your night out, not under some blanket, watching movies with a bowl of chips or icecream.

Not like it was bad. Not at all. Sometimes you just needed a... change in your routine.

Rosalie promised to pick you up since your car was still at mechanic's – so, your only task was to look good, but not too good. Bar was something else than club; more casual, but you really wanted to at least flirt a little or to catch an eye on someone, even if your mind was... pretty occupied with certain someone.

Maybe your best friend would bring someone worth your time, yeah? She usually had some ideas and wanted to play as your little matchmaker, so you never knew what was coming.

That being said, you opened your closet.

It was almost embarrasing how many clothes you had that you didn't even wear more than one time; mostly, cocktail dresses for fancy ocassions since your parents insisted on buying something new. People of business, someone would say – always having a whim about their galas and shit like this, it was hard not to hate it, considering that business comes before family, mostly.

Maybe that's why you limited contacts with them, sending them a text or two of what you're doing, how's the clinic going. And, of course, Christmas with them or Thanksgiving was a must if they weren't on some fancy vacations abroad.

With a thought in your mind that you have to go through those dressed, you decided to pick something simple to bar. Black tank-top, a simple baby blue shirt on it (unbuttoned, of course) and a pair of simple jeans worked in your mind, as well as in reality, so you found yourself quickly putting on a pair of sneakers.

Your make up took a little longer; you paid attention to your skin, the perfect eyeliner, a delicate lipgloss bringing out the shape of your lips. Everything had to look effortless, even if it wasn't; your motto, basically.

As promised, Rosalie picked you up; and you've talked with her the whole road, almost two hours to be exact. You haven't seen her for two months straight and even if you were updating her as much as you could in a day, it wasn't even close to your sincere talks. She asked a whole palette of questions; how's your car, how's that Simon who rescued you from jerky ex; she looked a bit amused when topic was on him, but you had no idea why.

"Man that has good ideas is rare" she summed up, chuckling, when you catched her up with Celia situation and told her your car is going to be fine, you just have to pick it up in the next week. "Don't tell him that by any means. His ego wouldn't take it."

"Oh, you have no idea."

Soon enough, you arrived. Bar was cute; not too large, but with big-ass bar table and glass shelves behind it with amount of alcohol that you couldn't count, even if you wanted to. Dim, orange lights just added to the view, and you smiled under your nose instincitvely, happy that you've decided to go there.

Tables weren't occupied as you thought they would be; Rosalie mentioned earlier it's gonna be a private party, but you didn't think that private, considering that you could count like... maybe ten, eleven people. Military men with their significant others, as you saw when you walked up to the barman, ordering a drink for you and your best friend.

You couldn't obviously ignore that someone was discussing with MacTavish near you; seemed like a heated discussion, until they looked right at you.

Guy with a skull mask. Full-ass skull mask like Simon had this one day when you two...

Fuck, could it be him? Maybe he was in unit that wore masks like these, you thought. It would be a strange coincidence, wouldn't it? And, Rosalie for sure would tell you that her comrade is the guy you are talking about sometimes since he adopted a cat, Sparkles, yeah?

Rosa had her significant smirk when she looked at you, and it was all you needed to know, especially when men approached you both.

Trouble in a person, that would be on your best friend.

"He gets a bit shy around strangers. Ain't your fault" Johnny joked, nudging you with his shit-eating grin, as he gave his friend a look.

"Mm, I bet. Good to see you, MacTavish." you murmured, which made "stranger" roll his eyes and grumble something under his nose. "And what's your friends name?" you raised an eyebrow, making eye-contact with those brown eyes you wouldn't forget ever.

"His name-"

"-you know my name, doc." Simon said, interrupting Soap. He took off his mask with one, swift movement, to reveal to you his scarred face and disheveled, blonde hair that you wanted to dip your fingers in so desperately.

To say that Johnny was shocked, was the understatement; he looked at his comrade in shock, opening and closing his lips, like he wasn't exactly sure what to say, considering that he took off his scary mask.

"Didn't know you have friends in military."

"Apparently, we're both full of surprises" you sipped a bit of your margharita, shrugging, like you two meeting here was the most normal situation that could happen.

"You two know each other, no?" Soap meddled in conversation, observing you two. It was obvious that he doesn't really know how you two could met, and honestly, no one could blame him. He was in military, barely going out, and you were a simple vet.

You nodded. "We met, yeah."

"Oh, I'd really want to hear it."

"Simple help. Nothin' too fancy, MacTavish" he pointed out, taking a sip of his alcohol.

Soap's look was piercing in you, though. "Helped him with a cat. Simple, like he said." "Fuckin' cat? Ghost is a cat mom now, eh?" he chuckled, which made Simon roll his eyes.

You wondered if Ghost was something they named them in the field, and if yes, why? After all, everything always was supposed to fit. As Rosalie said to you, even if she couldn't tell you everything (classified, of course) every nickname had a meaning behind it.

Ghost... seemed ambigious. You couldn't put it anywhere.

"Better than you'd be, John. Let's drink, shall we?" you raised your eyebrow, trying to lead the conversation elsewhere; looked like your companion thought the same way.

Rosalie introduced you to rest of the team – they all told you their names, but you were sure as hell that you're not gonna remember that, considering your memory was shit, especially to people that you don't see often. Either way, they were nice; very nice, after a few drinks with them you were pretty sure that your platonic soulmate is Kyle Garrick, who was the best partner in karaoke. And, he was also such a gossiper, finding every ocassion that he could to talk to you about something.

Not military related, though; only "things for civilians" as he giggled to you after fifth shot of tequila, telling you something about a girl that he had eye on. Curiosity piqued in the moment he confessed that she was 'out of reach' for him, and it was no chance that he could get together with her.

Hell, for you "no chance" before even trying was non-existent. You loved to prove people wrong, to make them watch you accomplishing various of things just to rile them up, or to reach your goal.

"Don't say that" you pointed at him. "There's always a chance for something. You won't try, you won't know. That's it."

"It's the same chance, as the chance that Ghost will get any of us to that fancy gala. Non-existent." he groaned, burying dramatically his head in his hands. "And like his driving skills."

"Garrick" he murmured; low, rumbling voice made sergeant straighten a little. "'s enough talkin' of it, yes?"

You chuckled. "What gala? And what, your driving skills are that bad?"

"I have rather..." Simon played with glass filled with alcohol "...complicated relationship with cars, I'd say. I prefer walking."

You raised your eyebrow a little, amused; what does it mean his relationship with cars is complicated? You couldn't help but think, as you nodded your head with faked understanding. It was hard to believe that his ass in military didn't have a driving license, so it only meant that his ability to drive was...

Different, maybe. And for his own safety, as well as yours and anyone on the road, he picked out walking instead of driving. Smart, though.

"That's why you've walked me home."

"Affirmative."

"Walked you home?" Kyle looked at both of you in shock, laughing to himself. "Oh, fuck, man. So many things are happening on leave, ain't it?"

"Gaz." Price shot him a look.

"I can't even-"

"Gaz."

"Fuck, okay" he rolled his eyes, shaking his head to himself. "Just so you know, if Johnny wouldn't be so caught up in Ros, he'd back me up."

Your gaze automatically went to Rosalie, who talked with her bartender friend. Johnny, right next to you, was looking at her with slightly darker eyes, leaning his head against palm of his hand. It was... a view, honestly; friends, but not admitting to something more, even if everyone else saw their bond is beyond simple "best friends".

Something that you considered as cute.

You couldn't help but wish that they will be together soon enough; the way they cared for each other... Hell, probably everyone wanted something like this for themselves, as well as you; something so pure with longing glances that would make you weak in your knees.

A sigh of annoyance came out of you – where the hell you were supposed to find something like this when you spent most of the days in the clinic? Tinder or any portal like this wasn't even an option.

Mostly because you met your crazy ass ex here, but also you wanted to... hell, get past that online dating stage.

Was it too much to ask?

"Another round?" Kyle's voice brought you back to earth; you nodded immediately, standing up from your seat. "Captain, Ghost, you comin'?"

"Mm, no. 'm gonna make a call." Price shook his head. "You go. Another one will be on me."

You looked at Simon.

"I'll pass too." he murmured, coughing. "

"Oh, come on! You have to do one shot with me. Please."

"Addison-"

"Please?" you pleaded, extending an arm to him, so he could grab his hand. "Just one."

Simon sighed. "You're not gonna let it go, eh?"

"No, not really. I owe you for that mechanic, don't I?" you tilted your head, smiling a bit. "Come on. Please. Just one shot. Or one drink, anything, really."

He didn't say anything; just followed you to the bar with boys, while you babbled about your work, when Gaz asked what does exactly vet do, besides controls and all.

And it felt really good to feel Simon's eyes on you the whole time. How he keeps his rich, brown eyes at you, while you tried desperately to keep yourself together, just in case - because after alcohol, you were the touchy-feely version of yourself.

He had some time to learn it.

[exo-raskreia]

As a GojoHime shipper, what do you think of SatoSugu?

⚠️🚫 SS shippers DNI 🚫⚠️

Oof... Well, first things first, everyone has different preferences & BL is not my cup of tea. Fujos are also a toxic breed so I have no interest in engaging with them either.

In regards to zigzag (a lovely nickname given to this ship by many 🤪)... I find Get0 unappealing in general & am mostly neutral to his character. I don't get why he's so popular, lol? I personally find it almost offensive that ppl ship him with someone as handsome as Gojo. 💀

They are canonically best friends & nothing more (reiterated time & again by Gege & his affiliates). Their views didn't align in the end, hence they parted ways & became enemies. Despite this, Gojo still saw him as his best friend, a huge part of his "springtime of youth," & regretted not being able to help him back then. Get0 was also the cause for Gojo's identity crisis about being the strongest & was jealous of Gojo's strength, but certain ppl conveniently forget that 😒.

Zigzag would've been just another ship I don't pay attention to. Thank their insane fandom, especially the Get0 stans, for being the major cause of my intense dislike for this ship, however. Their toxicity towards other shippers (esp my fandom), misinformation, & misinterpretations of Gojo's & Get0's characters have solidified this ship as a MAJOR NOTP for me. I can't stand it with every fiber of my being. 😬

This meme encompasses that:

They act like they're canon when they're not. There's literally NO canon evidence to support their ship. Everything they claim as evidence has been debunked & has a shounen-esque explanation for it. They choose to ignore it, however, & it doesn't help that big accounts on Twitter, Tik Tok & other platforms use zigzag for clout & spread lies 🙄. All they really have are the three M's: mistranslations, misinformation, & misinterpretations 💀.

They can ship in their own lane but these freaks go out of their way to harrass others, even fanartists of other Gojo ships & neutral translators. Then they go & victimize themselves when they get called out 🙄. They like to act innocent & blame others but everyone knows it's always them who start things. It's no wonder they've made enemies of every corner of the JJK fandom. They may have the numbers but they're surely in the same boat as the rest of us shippers 🤷‍♀️. We're all in Delulu Land.

They hate Utahime for no reason other than that she's shipped with Gojo. You might not believe the insane things I've seen them say about her. Despite her being a minor side character, & her only screentime has been to help others, esp Gojo, they hate on her as if she was the main villain. Heck, not even Sukuna gets this much hate from them 💀. They spite-ship her with her bestie Shoko or even that bum Kusakabe just to "get her out of the way" of their mid ship but they don't actually care for either ship. They even drag Gojo thru the mud when hating on GojoHime, mischaracterizing him by saying things like he hates women 💀. They hate on GojoHime as if it was the worst ship anyone could have in JJK.

They cannot stand how popular GojoHime is, especially in Japan (according to Pixiv, they're the most popular M/F ship & #6 overall in JJK 👀).

They also have the audacity to claim they care more about Utahime than us GojoHime fans do. They say we mischaracterize her & how dare we ship her with a man she hates? Like?? Where is their Utahime content, like fanart, headcanons & theories? When do they ever talk about her unless it's to hate on her & try to discredit our ship? I've heard they even villainize her in their zigzag fics, make her OOC 💀. But they understand her better? 🙄

It really comes to show that they genuinely see Utahime as a threat 🤣. But why, tho, if they claim that GojoHime has nothing to stand on? That it doesn't make sense? 👀 Why are they so insecure if they're "so canon"?

They also feminize Get0 & have made some very disturbing posts, yet they hate on female characters? Those that "get in the way" of their non-canon mlm ships? Even Gojo self-shippers hate on Utahime but are okay with Get0? 🙄 I know this word gets thrown around a lot but these ppl are misogynists...

Zigzags should go read actual BL instead of self-queerbaiting with a battle shounen manga 💀. They're as delusional as Naruto & Sasuke shippers (and those 2 had at least a better written dynamic than Gojo & Get0 💀. Even Gojo & Sukuna had a more interesting dynamic than them imo 🤣).

It annoys me when even some GojoHime shippers include past/implied zigzag in their fics, & worse without tagging. I ignore the properly tagged ones & immediately drop the ones that aren't. I'm always on alert when I click on a fic & won't relax until I know it doesn't have any zigzag. 😕 It shouldn't be like this...

I'm also like?? You're ok with having Utahime be second choice in a GojoHime fic to a non-canon mlm ship?? I get it's the multishippers but still. 😒 Please tag them so I can stay far away from them 🙏.

Sorry for going on a full rant, haha. I really cannot stand that ship nor its shippers. This post is not about the sane shippers, btw, only the crazy ones. 😅

Anyway, Gojo likes older women & that's FACT. 😌

[lostelfwriting]

Bury Me with a Rose, We Both Have Thorns (Prologue)

Rating: Explicit

AO3 Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Death & Dream, Dream & Hob, Dream/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Death of the Endless, Hob Gadling, Jessamy, Matthew, Corinthian, Lucienne

Additional Tags: NO Major Character Death, Hanahaki Disease, Terminal Illnesses, Thoughts about death and dying, Decaying Health, Refusing Treatment, Strong Language, Unrequited Love, Enemies to ?, Past Minor Characters Death(s), Protective Death of the Endless, Doctor Human!Death of the Endless, Alternate Universe - Human, Tattoo Artist Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Flower Shop Owner Hob Gadling, Blood, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word count: 32k

I'm posting the whole work here on the 1st of March, but I strongly reccommend you read it on AO3, where I will be posting one chapter per day. Either way, click Read More or go to AO3 to read the Prologue!

Written for the event @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang. With beautiful art by @five-and-dimes!

It is a slow day at the studio, so while he is waiting for his next appointment, Dream is – like he does almost all of his free time – sketching new tattoo designs to add to his portfolio and listening to music loud enough to completely shut out his own thoughts. He is sketching a snake, having no doubt that it will catch someone’s eye. There is always someone who wants a tattoo of a snake. He pauses to look at his progress and ends up snorting in disbelief.

The drawing is truly a snake, but the reptile is weaving among the stems of flowers instead of a dead branch like Dream had intended. And they are ugly flowers at that. He is pretty sure that he gave a pot of those flowers to his secondary school teacher, who always called him Murphy, even though he hated that nickname. He can’t resist snapping a picture of the flowers with his phone and trying to look up what they are, but once he finds the name – cyclamen – he refuses to look up their meaning. It would surely be something stupid, like forbidden love, or maybe hopelessness.

Even the snake’s scales seem to actually be made of flower petals, and Dream rolls his eyes as he flips the page of his sketchbook. The downside to trying to tune his mind out is that he doesn’t notice when his subconsciousness begins to interfere with his process, and it has led to many flowery paintings in the past months. With a sigh, he starts copying the usable parts of the design onto another page until an insistent thought makes him pause mid-movement.

Just a few weeks ago, he would have been furious if this had happened. He used to tear those ruined sketches to pieces and then go outside into the late winter chill and glare at every passing person who dared to look his way. He wished they all felt as bad as he did, and most of all, his neighbour with his shop opposite Dream’s studio, with its bright, flowery logo.

Today’s drawing incident feels like just a small inconvenience. He feels zero anger, though he might still opt to destroy the sketch later, just for the miniscule satisfaction that the action will bring him. Or maybe he will keep it. Pin it to the wall next to his bed and look at it every night. He will look at the ugly flowers and realise with wry amusement and aching hollowness that he has finally accepted his fate.

He, Morpheus Endeles, is going to die.

He thinks about it and waits for anger or grief to appear, but they don’t. Good. He was getting sick of the self-pity. It has been months since he noticed the first symptom – the occasional cough – as something seemed to tickle his throat, easily blamed on a bit of dust. And then, a bit later, when he lay awake late at night and everything around him was quiet, he heard the soft rustle of leaves as he breathed. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that he had the Hanahaki Disease. He tears the ruined sketch out and shreds it into tiny pieces, enjoying the bit of satisfaction that it brings him. Maybe he is still harbouring some badly suppressed anger. He doesn’t need a fortune teller to tell him that he has no chance of getting affection from the person he hopelessly loves. Because it is his neighbour, the owner of The White Rose, Robert Gadling, a straight man who rightfully dislikes Dream.

+*+*+*+*+

Cyclamen: resignation and good-bye