#even just a motorbike will do me wonders
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leviiackrman · 4 months ago
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Ya gal officially has 4 jobs🤪
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luveline · 11 months ago
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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 
You see both sides of him now. 
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 
“Hello,” you call back. 
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 
“Shit, you wanna see?” 
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 
“Another bat?” you ask. 
“Not cool?” 
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?” 
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 
You pull your head up slowly. 
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 
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kquil · 19 days ago
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SIRIUS BLACK | BIKER BOY
sum. : no one messes with a biker boy's biker girl
tags. : fluff ; modern day au ; muggle au ; bikerboy!sirius ; bikergirl!reader ; childhood friends to lovers ; sirius being a flirt ; boyfriend material sirius ; unrequited love? not really ; protective sirius ; angry sirius ; book-lover reader ; you balance each other out ; which is why you're the perfect match! ; Sirius swears a lot when he’s angry…
length : 1.8k
navi. | more sirius black
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Growing up as Sirius’ childhood best friend had its ups and downs. The main down was that he was easy to fall in love with and be loved by, even if it remained platonic all this time. However, he came with many ups that kept you close despite the unrequited ache in your heart. His spritely, adventurous and charming nature brings out a balanced playfulness in you, pulling you away from your books so you can enjoy other things life has to offer. 
Naturally, as you grew older, the influence you had on one another’s decisions also grew and he had been able to convince you to join him in becoming a biker. He didn’t want to be alone in learning how to ride, getting a license and eventually purchasing a motorcycle so he had to bring you along for the ‘ride’ too. 
You’ve doubted your choice many times but the freedom it brought to go riding was addictive. Whenever you were angry or sad, all you had to do was hop on your motorbike and leave all those negative feelings behind to finally feel better again. The journey also led to many wonderful memories together, mainly out at 2 am with hardly any other vehicles around, so you had most of the roads to yourselves, giggling at each other through your earpieces and sometimes breaking into song just to fill the silence. All late-night outings also ended in him treating you to your craving for fast food that night.
“My treat, dollface,” it was always his treat; he made sure you never had to pay for a single meal. And even when you try to sneakily pay for items by withholding your order or pretending that you’re not hungry, he’s already memorised your preferred meals from every fast food place, so it’s futile. 
“It’s only courtesy that I ask what you want to order, you know that, right? Because I already know your orders by heart, so there’s no stopping me pretty girl.” you remember the once over he gives you, his smug smirk only growing when he finally meets your eyes again, “It is pretty cute, though, seeing you try so hard to defy me,” — how can he be so infuriating but so charming at the same time?!
On the road, Sirius tends to be the more reckless one while you remain more responsible. It’s the same dynamic you two built growing up, you need each other for balance and you’ve both realised this a long time ago. Since you know how fitting you are to have in one another’s lives, it’s no wonder you’ve stayed with each other for so long. 
To accommodate his reckless behaviour on the roads, you keep a lookout and sometimes go ahead of him to see if there are any patrolling policemen around so he can do a wheelie. However, It’s not a bulletproof strategy and he eventually gets himself a ticket for his reckless behaviour. And, though you felt guilty for not being a better lookout, he doesn’t blame you. He got caught by an undercover cop so you couldn’t have seen it coming anyway. After being ticketed, Sirius hears your whimpered apologies coming through his earpiece and rushes forward to hold you close and comfort you when it should have been you comforting him for receiving a ticket. 
“It’s because I was an idiot and roped you into my shenanigans,” he scoffs angrily at himself, holding you tighter. There’s a pause and when he hears your quiet sniffles, he softens his voice to an almost-whisper, “Please don’t cry, love… you’re too pretty to cry,” 
You stay at the side of the road, hugging each other for a long time, even when the policeman has been long gone and Sirius has never asked you to keep watch for his stunts ever again. 
To accommodate your bookish and goody-two-shoes behaviour, Sirius makes sure to always stop by your favourite bookshop so you can indulge in your favourite book-browsing activity. Even when you protest and tell him you don’t need to go inside or browse any books, he always insists and when you end up taking a book or two to the counter, he always pays. You fall for it every time!
“You don’t have to pay for my books, Siri…”
“I don’t think you realise that I can more than afford it and that I don’t care what you think because it was my idea to stop here in the first place,” you hug him from behind around the waist as he pays for your books and asks that they provide a bag. 
“I’m gonna become a spoiled brat because of you,” you huff with pursed lips but he only pats your hand, where it’s placed on his front. 
“That’s the mission, doll. I bet you’ll just become even cuter,” you can imagine his smiling lips and winking eyes through his helmet and you have no words to say. 
Ugh! There’s no winning with this man!
It was impossible to not fall for a man like Sirius Black. It was sweet torture being his childhood best friend but you’ll get what you can take…
Tonight was yet another night where Sirius invited you out for a late evening ride. It’s pitch black outside but you know that makes it perfect because there will hardly be any other cars on the road. So you quickly gear up and pull out with your bike and park by the pavement, ready to leave upon Sirius’ arrival. The man soon arrives and gives a wave before aligning his bike beside yours. Coming to a full stop, he leans over, tilts your helmet up from beneath its front point and leans down to touch the front of his helmet with yours in a kissing gesture.
“Good evening, beautiful girl,” He greets smoothly and stares longingly at you from beneath his visor as he makes a show of holding his head up with the palm of his hand as his elbow rests on the front tank of his bike. The infuriating git has gotten into this flirtatious habit recently and you don’t know what to do with yourself whenever he does it. The only thing you can do is urge him to hurry up and not waste time as he’s blocked you in with his bike and you can’t escape the situation.
“Hurry up Siri, or else it’ll be morning by the time we finally head out. And you were the one to invite me for a ride in the first place,” you disguise your flustered state with a semi-angry huff. 
His smooth chuckle filters through your earpiece like a seductive song and shoots a shiver down your spine, “Doesn’t matter, as long as you’re there with me, who cares? We can watch the sunrise together~” The two of you start to pull away from where you’re parked and head down your usual route. Tonight’s indulgent meal would either be at McDonalds or Five Guys. 
“Stop flirting with me, loverboy, you don’t stand a chance!” you tease. 
“Never!” he shouts and laughs when you tell him off for being too loud. 
It’s a fun ride for a while; it always is when there are hardly any cars around but, even with cars around, there usually aren’t any problems. Tonight, however, you think you’ve encountered the worst kind on the road: a pissy, drunk driver on the road.
“Whoa! Watch out! Dollface!” Sirius shouts in panic. 
“Oh my god!” you shriek and sharply turn away from a car that suddenly appears at your side on the dual carriageway. The car appeared out of nowhere and, if it weren’t for your fast reaction time, you would have collided and crashed. 
“Doll?!” Sirius calls out, his anger overlaid by worry. He’s seen what happened from where he was behind you and the drunk driver after almost getting hit himself. 
“I-I’m okay…” Looking through the window, you raise your hand, palm-side up as if to ask what’s wrong but the driver only flips you the bird. This was someone you didn’t want to continue any interactions with so you pulled away to the other lane and maintained a safe distance. It was no use, however, as the driver taunted you by pushing into your lane again. “He’s crazy…” you comment and pull back to ride beside Sirius instead.
But Sirius had other plans. He makes sure you stay back while he charges forward and hits hard against the driver’s window until you see the driver pull it down. Through the earpiece, you hear only Sirius’ side of the altercation as your heart races and drums against your ears. 
“WHAT THE HELL’S WRONG WITH YOU?! HUH?! FUCKFACE?!” there's a pause where you believe the driver gives a piss-poor excuse and Sirius wasn’t having any of it, “SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH! YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY HURT MY GIRL AND THAT’S FUCKING UNACCEPTABLE! YOU HEAR ME?!” you pretend him calling you his girl didn’t make your stomach flip, “NO! A— I SAID SHUT. UP! YOU THINK I’M NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?! WATCH ME!” Sirius’ threat must have done something because you see the car begin to speed up but Sirius quickly follows and angrily punches the man’s side mirror so hard the mirror cracks and snaps where it’s attached to the car’s body. With his cracked wing mirror dangling pathetically at the side, the car finally speeds away and you hear nothing but Sirius’s heavy breathing in your ears. 
“S-Siri?...” He doesn’t say anything but motions for you to follow him off the motorway and leads you to the parking lot of the McDonalds you usually stop at. Once there, Sirius takes off his helmet and waits for you to pull up and follow suit. Hurrying off your bike, you also remove your helmet and are cut off by a hug just as you ask if he is okay. 
“I’m not okay…no…” he voices into your hair as you squeeze him tight, “I don’t know what I’d do if you’d gotten hurt, doll,” a sour expression crosses Sirius’ features, one that he buries into your neck where he kisses at your pulse point and you pretend your face isn’t heating up because of it, ”that pigheaded prick deserves to die for even attempting anything,”
“I-It’s alri—”
“I’ve memorised his number plate. I’ll track him down and make his life a living hell, I swear to god… How. Dare. He? Stupid fuck, trying to hurt my girl. He deserves worse than prison. Give him the bloody guillotine, chop off his legs and arms, cut him in half and finally chop off his head…no that’s not good enough. I should round up the boys, give him the beating of his miserable, worthless life—” You’re sure Sirius would have gone on for longer if you didn’t jump at kissing him for calling you his girl for the second time that night. 
All thoughts of torturing the disgusting pig who dared play with your life were wiped from Sirius’ thoughts instantly. Now…all he can think of is how soft your lips are…how sweet and delicious you taste, and how he can easily kiss you all night long. 
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navi. | more sirius black
a/n : i'm dedicating this to a wonderful friend of mine @thebestofoneshots i just want to remind her that she deserves so much good for her big heart and endless kindness, and i hope she can find some comfort in this short imagine as a fellow motorcycle and Sirius Black lover. i promise you she's one of the kindness people you'll ever meet and I think she's in need of some extra loving right now so if you could show her some love and support by checking out her writing and leaving her a kind message, it would mean the world to me and her. I LOVE YOU LILLY!
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hadersversion · 1 month ago
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‘tis the damn season.
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“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader
warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown
your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.
i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.
somethings never change.
being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.
i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.
"jj?" i ask, confused.
"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.
i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.
my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.
"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.
"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.
"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.
we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.
"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.
"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.
"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.
"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."
"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.
"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."
i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.
almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.
the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.
"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.
"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.
"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.
i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."
we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.
"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.
i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."
they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"
i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"
"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."
"it has." i sigh. "it really has."
we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.
"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.
i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.
"y/n?"
until that moment.
i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.
i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.
i turn around and look at the man.
"rafe."
he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.
we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.
"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.
i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."
he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"
"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.
his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."
the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."
"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.
"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.
"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.
a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.
"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.
i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.
he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"
"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.
i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."
"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.
he stands there quietly, i got him.
"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.
"are you for real?" i ask.
"what? i'm being nice." he says.
i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.
"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.
"away from you." i say, not looking back.
i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."
i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"
he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."
"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.
"you're drunk."
"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"
"y/n." he tries to plead his case.
"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."
he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.
"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.
"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"
"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."
i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.
i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.
once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.
"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."
i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.
no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.
then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.
rafe: hey
i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.
rafe: can we talk?
rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.
rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn
rafe: but i miss you.
rafe: i wanna see you.
i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.
y/n: sure, give me like an hour.
y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.
my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.
i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.
we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.
he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.
"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.
"sure."
"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."
i just nod at him.
"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."
"are you drunk? high?" i ask.
"w-what?"
"are you not sober?" i ask again.
"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"
"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.
"i'm being serious, y/n."
i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"
he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."
"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."
"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.
"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.
he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."
my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"
"every word i said."
my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.
his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.
i needed more.
i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.
he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."
"shut up." i was itching for more.
"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.
"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."
"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."
"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.
"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."
"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.
"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."
"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.
"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"
"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.
"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"
this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.
"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.
with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.
"show off." i say, out of breathe.
i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."
i smirk and shake my head.
he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.
"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.
"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.
"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.
"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.
"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.
"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"
"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.
his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.
i felt on fire.
i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.
"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."
"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.
"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.
"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.
"i bet."
i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.
"well, are you clean?" i ask.
"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.
i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.
his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.
i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."
i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."
i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.
with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.
we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.
"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.
"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.
"all the fucking time."
i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.
"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.
"'tis the damn season." he replies.
i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.
"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."
i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.
"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."
i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.
he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."
"rafe." i say.
"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."
i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."
"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.
"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"
"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.
i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."
he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."
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workingbynyx · 11 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)
of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚
(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay ��)
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Very affectionate behind closed doors
Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.
A pretty decent cook, to say the least
Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3
Midnight joyrides are the best
Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd
Getting out of bed is almost impossible
The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."
Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist
I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)
He asks for fashion advice, sometimes
Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.
His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch
This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.
Very protective over you
It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.
Acts all tough, but melts when you're around
Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.
Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse
Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.
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risuola · 7 months ago
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▶ NEEDY AND SHAMELESS — Satoru was needy and couldn't deal with it himself.
contents: needy, whiny, whimpering Satoru (that's a warning!), college+roommates!au, nsfw, oral (m! receiving), reader discretion is advised — wc. 2585
a/n: dedicated to my dear 🎶 anon for creating the movement #HeadForGojo, love ya! but also, we're diving into dangerous waters with the trio and i'd like to think that the reader is closer physically with Satoru and mentally with Suguru but fear not, spicy Suguru is coming as well!
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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You’re not the type to get easily surprised.
Usually.
Living with two boys and knowing them for most of your life had prepared you to expect the unexpected and it was the spontaneity that was at the base of most of your best memories. The impromptu hitchhike travels during which you’d sprawl on top of either of their lap, the tight spaces in which you slept sandwiched between them, the unplanned sleepovers and long, nighttime rides on their motorbikes.
You’ve watched the stars with them, spread-eagled on the dew-sprinkled grass outside the city, talking the nights away while getting eaten alive by mosquitos and you loved every second of it. You’ve survived few days on nothing but instant ramen just so you three could get the best time at the beach without robbing a bank. You didn’t blink twice when Satoru once dragged you into a kissing competition just so you could win a two nights’ stay in one of the most luxurious hotels in Tokyo for all three of you around valentine’s day — you won of course, and after that you partied like royalty, getting drunk with Suguru on expensive champagne (and getting Satoru drunk), and jumping on beds in hotel-branded robes.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” But this time you were flabbergasted. Blinking a little faster, you tried to force the gears in your head to turn and process what you just heard. There was no way he just asked you to—
“Can you suck my dick? Pretty please—”
—never mind. The question sounded just as unexpected as the first time, if not more. There was no reason to it, no background information, no nothing that could make it sound a little less out of place.
“Context?”
Gojo groaned. You watched his cheeks turning bright red, the tips of his ears crimson as well and his hand met his face, covering it, hiding it from your expectant gaze. He was nervous, he was embarrassed and you had no idea what the hell was going on underneath the white mop of fluffy hair, but it wasn’t hard to tell that there was smoke coming out of there. For a short moment you wondered if he’d be able to trigger the fire detectors in the building.
“God, this is so embarrassing. I can’t— fuck.” He stuttered and it was the first time in your life you herd him stumble over his own words. “I really can’t do this with my hand. I just can’t, it doesn’t feel right and I’m so fucking frustrated because I tried to get some girl from the campus to give me a head but I can’t force myself to get hard for them. I somehow go all limp and useless whenever they throw themselves at me and ironically the thought of you makes me so painfully, impossibly bricked up that I might just chop the thing off to feel some release.” He was speaking so quickly it was almost difficult to understand, looking everywhere but at you. His eyes were bouncing off the walls and furniture, windows and ceiling but not once settled on you.
“And you want me to get you off?” You questioned, making sure that you understand his rumble correctly and the moment you spoke, Satoru finally stopped fidgeting and froze. His gaze slowly made its way towards you and his breath hitched, his heart pounded in his chest, his whole body tensed up. His mouth opened and closed, and then opened again but nothing came out. It took him a good ten seconds to find his voce, and even then, it came out as barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” he said simply, the single word hung heavy between you. His hands were in the pockets of his sweatpants, fingers curling around something — maybe a coin, maybe his own sanity; knuckles turning white from the strain as he took another deep breath. “I know we’re friends and roommates and all sorts of things that should make this a terrible idea but, I swear to all gods out there, it’s not about me wanting you to get me off, it’s about me needing you to get me off.” He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat threatening to choke him. This was so wrong, so incredibly bad and yet, here he was, practically begging you to touch him. To taste him. To swallow him whole. “I know it’s weird and fucked up and probably a huge mistake, but I don’t know what else to do here.”
You saw the vulnerability in those cerulean orbs, the raw honesty behind his confession. The desperation in his voice almost broke your heart, he looked like he’s about to pass out from sheer exhaustion — emotional, mental, physical; every kind imaginable, and you knew him. It wasn’t one of his whims, you can see through them in a blink of an eye. He was serious, he was trembling, his eyes seemed to well with tears as he begged you.
“Does it come from the day you asked me to judge your cock?”
“Yeah, I guess so. You said I make you salivate and fuck, the vision stuck with me.”
And then, he dropped onto the bed, sitting on the edge with elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. He swallowed thickly, gulping down the lump in his throat. He hated the thought of ruining what you had as friends, it terrified him.
“Satoru—” you let out a sigh and he flinched, straightening up and looking at you again.
"I'll do anything. I can eat you out after that to pay you back. I can clean the room for a month. Fuck, I can even give you money if you need it. I'm just fucking going to combust if it goes for any longer–“ He rambled, babbled, desperate to get his point across. "I'm so impossibly hard when you're around, it hurts and every time I try to get my shit together, it's just getting worse."
“You don’t have to pay me back, Toru,” you said lightly, laughing at his nervousness. “I love you, idiot, I’m not gonna let you suffer, though I warn you that I might suck at this, no pun intended.”
“You don’t even have to use your mouth, honestly, if it’s your hand I’m sure it’s still going to be fine, as long as it’s you.”
“Oh, no, if we’re doing this, you’re getting the proper, sloppy, messy head,” you teased and he nearly moaned. The very thought of your mouth wrapping around him almost made him cum in his pants.
His cheeks heated up, all of his body felt like it’s on fire and he loved the feeling. You were straightforward; there was never any pretense or games played between you and him and he adored that about you.
“Please,” he whimpered, paralyzed by the thrill of excitement. The nerves were churning in his stomach, ecstasy coursing through him like electricity through wires. He watched as you moved, putting down the phone, there was a grace in the way you were crawling to the edge of the bed and you made a little sound when you got down onto the floor. He was quick to grab a pillow to throw below your knees, and you shot him a little grin.
It felt odd to you, to kneel in front of your best friend like this with intention so explicit but you also felt at ease with it. It wasn’t pity that drove you, you just loved him genuinely and there was no forcing involved in the way your hands moved to give his thighs a little squeeze.
You chuckled, amused by how sensitive he was, how impatient when just the slightest touch of your fingers over his clothed legs was enough to make him jolt. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and as your eyes moved down from his face, you noticed how strained his cock was against the fabric of his pants. There was a tiny dark spot where his tip was underneath, precum soaking through the grey sweats and you leaned in, flicking your tongue over the cotton, teasing him and he moaned.
“Sweets, please, have mercy. Mochi, I beg you–“ he was a whimpering mess, he was flushed, his chest was heaving and you touched him just barely, through the clothes.
“Oh, patience Toru,” you grinned, reaching up and hooking your fingers over the waistband of his pants. The elastic snapped against his stomach, making him whine and you acted innocent as if you didn’t do it on purpose.
“I’d love to be patient but keep it going and I might just bust in my pants and then die,” he dramatized; his knuckles were turning white from the sheer force he was squeezing the sheets behind him.
Finally, you pulled on the band, taking both pants and underwear at once and his manhood sprung free. The tip hit his stomach, leaving a droplet of seed on his light skin and he twitched as the cool air hit his sensitive flesh. The sight of him made you swallow, the saliva gathering at your mouth because he did look delicious and yet again you were reassured at the belief that god has his favorites.
Dragging your nails across his thighs, you reached to wrap your fingers around him, feeling his weight against your palm and the girth you struggled to embrace at once. You stroked him few times, experimentally, and it made him writhe and fidget, with the whiniest of moans. Satoru felt like he’s going to go crazy, your touch was gentle yet firm and it sent sparks shooting up his spine. He bit his lip to stifle another moan, his hips bucked into your hand involuntarily, seeking more friction. Despite his best efforts to maintain control, he couldn’t help but squirm beneath your touch.
“Be a good boy,” you warned playfully, leaning in, and savoring the moan that broke his apology when you run your tongue along the curved underside of his dick, the veins there felt prominent against the flat of your muscle. The kiss you planted on the tip of it was almost tender, gentle; the salty taste of precum mixed with your own saliva when you twirled your tongue around him.
“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he managed to gasp out between his clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure surged through him. He could feel the heat, the tension coiling within him and he swallowed thickly. The sensation of your mouth was unlike anything he had ever experienced before and he felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you took him in. Satoru’s whole world narrowed down to the feel of your mouth on him — so wet and warm and wonderful — enveloping his cock in a velvety embrace that had him seeing stars. Your tongue was hot and slick, gliding expertly over his throbbing length. Each lick, each suck had him writhing in pleasure and he barely managed to hold his hips down, to not thrust them deeper into the dreamy embrace between your lips.
The mixture of precum and your saliva was coating his cock, dribbling down his length and your chin. Messy. You were bobbing your head up and down his length, taking more and more of him sloppily. You were greedy, your movements like a dance to an unknown melody with the main dancers being your tongue and his member. You were twirling, tasting, teasing him mercilessly. Your cheeks were hollowing and your nose meeting the few white hairs at the base as you took him deeper and deeper and he was moaning. Shamelessly, loudly and oh so sweetly.
“Swee–mhaah–‘m gonn—” he stuttered, whined, tried to warn you but the words came out incoherent and stretched along the sounds that were ripping through him. His heart pounded in his chest, a wild rhythm that matched the rapid beat of pulse in his veins. Satoru felt his body tensing, one of his legs bouncing as tried to keep himself from shooting his load into your mouth.
Panting, heavily, shakingly, he watched you below him. You looked pretty like this, so drop dead gorgeous and straight out a fantasy that he’s been pushing to the back of his mind for the longest time now. Truth is, he wanted you, needed you much more than a friend would long for a friend, but he was too scared to act on it.
You hummed, the vibrations of your vocal cords pushing him near the edge, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his balls. His cock throbbed in your mouth, leaking precum that coated your tongue with its salty sweetness and he squealed, reaching to grab your head, your hair, to pull you away before he—
A loud, lewd mewl cut through the room and Gojo’s body went rigid as wave after wave of pure, carnal pleasure washed over him. He saw fireworks underneath his eyelids, he felt them exploding inside his veins, and he exploded too. The feel of your mouth sent him spiraling right into climax, speeding with no brakes and he was delighted. His cock twitched, pulsed with each spurt of cum and his entire body trembled with ecstasy, head tilted back, spine arched and mouth agape.
Joyful. He felt so utterly, unapologetically joyful.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him, leaving him panting and spent in their wake. He looked down again, catching the sight of you lapping at his cum, licking him clean and he finally went limp, falling back onto the bed with a weak, gleeful moan.
“Fuck… that was… oh god,” he panted, his blue eyes glazed oved with delight. His chest was raising and falling rapidly, each breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to regain control of his senses but he didn’t want to. He wished to bask in the afterglow a little more, a little longer.
You finished the job with a loud pop as you took him out of your mouth and finally let go. He was softening, his body deflating, relaxing and you took it as the job well done. Once fixing his underwear and sweats, you climbed back onto the bed and dropped next to him, taking in the sight of his flushed face and disheveled hair. He looked angelic, with teary eyes and parted, swollen lips, glistening from saliva. You committed the picture to memory.
“Good?” You asked, though the answer was obvious from the way he looked.
“Heavenly,” he panted out and turned his head towards you. He watched as you reached up to the corner of your lips, thumb wiping off the lone drop of cum that lingered there and he grabbed you gently, pulling it to his own mouth. You chuckled when he sucked on your digit, his warm tongue circling it precisely as his mouth enveloped it whole.
“Nasty,” you teased and leaned in to kiss his forehead.
“Look who’s talking,” he played back, his words muffled over your finger before he finally let go of your hand. A string of saliva stretched from the tip of it and to his mouth but he licked it off like a kitten. “Thank you, mochi.”
“You’re welcome,” you offered him a smile and got off the bed, heading towards the bathroom. “You’re cleaning for a month by the way!”
He whined and you laughed.
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polarisjisung · 8 months ago
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MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN
synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms
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wc: 1.1k
pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship
genre: fluff
warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)
notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️
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you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.
you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.
just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.
your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.
the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you
there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.
there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.
jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.
"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead
"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile
"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"
"you know it sung"
his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you
"well I'm here now"
jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back
"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head
you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist
"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple
jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes
there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside
you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much
like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm
"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show
"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes
"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation
"you're my girl, of course I do"
this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips
"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you
"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes
"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear
"my boyfriend"
"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him
"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence
"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"
somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.
despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head
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wannaeatramyeon · 4 months ago
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Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Five Stages of Grief Attraction
G/N. 1.8k. Fluff. Masterlists
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The moment you realised you were attracted to Ryuhei, you had to muster all your willpower not to fall to your knees and curse the heavens.
It wasn't your willpower that prevailed. It was the fact you were in a busy store food shopping, and would have likely been manhandled and thrown out by security.
Common sense and public courtesy meant you didn't cause a scene and scream. Instead you went home and sat with your head in your hands for the rest of the day.
There is no way. Absolutely no way you could fall for him.
He's pathetic, he's a pest, he, for some godforsaken reason, has redirected all his previous efforts from Mitsuki to you.
Attaching himself to you when he's not wanted. Constantly by your side. Clingy and annoying and endlessly rambling about this and that. You usually ignore him, but sometimes you hear him talking about going on a date and when you don't respond, he pouts and it earns you a few moments of precious peace. 
Yet despite him being a goofball with you, Ryuhei is an oddly intimidating presence for everyone else and handy for warding away dangers. It's useful, in a way. Having him around.
And maybe he's worn you down, gotten you used to him, because you also find his company, dare you say... comforting-
No. Absolutely not.
Cutting that thought off sharply, you vigorously shake your head and physically slap yourself.
Honestly, what is wrong with you? Ryuhei is not comforting. He is the reason why restraining orders exist.
.
.
Though you can't help but notice the next day that when Ryuhei walks with you, he's always the one positioned next to the road and traffic. 
Or how his body is constantly slightly turned in towards you, shielding you from the crowds and jostling as if it's second nature.
He does it so smoothly and subtly, which is insane to think that Ryuhei can be smooth or subtle, that the only reason you notice is your nerves are on a knife's edge around him these days and you're torn between watching him like a hawk or never looking in his direction at all.
There also seems to be a ton of inside jokes between you two. How did that even happen? 
At one point in time he was just stupid, annoying Ryuhei Kuroda. Now he's still stupid, annoying Ryuhei Kuroda but he can say something innocuous and nonsensical and it will mean something hilarious to the both of you and you'd guffaw together.
Crap.
Not to mention the day after, when the stars aligned to fuck you over even more and you see an old frenemy that your non-confrontational ass still greets as politeness wins out. 
Who makes you uncomfortable and likes to leave a trail of backhanded comments.
Who you must have mentioned before to Ryuhei because suddenly he feels bigger and taller and much more menacing and the other person leaves after a simple "Hi, how you doing?".
You convince yourself it's all just a coincidence.
It's sweet, nonetheless.
You reward him with a few more smiles and he preens.
Shit. This is the opposite of what you want.
.
.
You reason with yourself that the feelings are not mutual.
Or rather, there are no feelings on your side.
That you merely feel flattered at all the attention, his compliments and sweet talk. Even if it's less sweet, and more obscene and disgusting.
(Disgusting. In a curious way. That makes you wonder what he would actually be like in bed. 
What would Ryuhei actually do if you took him up on his proposition to do you.)
Ugh. Your train of thought is becoming, frankly, deranged.
A surge of irritation courses through you.
How could he do this to me? Fuck that guy, you think to yourself angrily. But this time you also mean fuck that guy and ugh why isn't he doing me and it makes you want to pull your hair out.
.
.
You hold on to your sour mood all weekend.
Flip flopping between rueing the day you met Ryuhei to wondering if he'd ride you as well as he rides that stupidly cool motorbike of his.
You hate yourself for even thinking that, almost as much as you hate him.
Until you see him again Monday morning, and the way his eyes light up makes you blush furiously.
You want to equally strangle him and kiss him senseless.
.
.
Really, is Ryuhei that bad? 
Sure he has no sense of personal boundaries, or decorum, and he runs his mouth with the most unhinged things.
But he's good, at least to you.
Sort of.
(It took you a while to come to that conclusion. You had to double, triple check whether your standards are actually still ok or if he really has worn you down.
That beneath all his bravado, Ryuhei is actually pretty nice. Thoughtful. He looks out for you in ways you don't expect. And he is nothing if not loyal.
There's also bonus points for simply how much he makes you laugh.)
So maybe you can like him back a little, as a treat. A guilty pleasure.
Perhaps it isn't so bad that you allow yourself to drift closer to him. That your shoulder nudges his when you walk together.
How you find any excuse to lightly touch him on the arm under the guise of getting his attention.
You no longer tell him to shut the fuck up when he asks if you want to bang. That sometimes you just raise your eyebrows and give a smirk at his pick up lines, and you relish how his look of shock turns into glee at your response.
When he asks if you want to go for a coffee, you shrug and say sure and let him lead the way as he keeps giving you furtive glances as though you may change your mind and disappear any second. And when you still remain, following him obediently to the cafe, his glances turn hopeful and you allow yourself to melt at how cute he is.
Damnit.
However, the real killer that shifts you from liking him as a treat to full blown liking him is when he offers to take you for a ride.
Your throat immediately dries at the question, and lewd images flashes before your eyes. Unfortunately (or, depending on how you want to look at it - fortunately, before you manage to embarrass yourself) you notice the bike helmets in each hand and squash down your disappointment and presumptuousness. 
Except holding on to Ryuhei as he navigates the night traffic of Seoul, your arms circling his waist, his hand resting on your thighs at every stoplight does something absolutely stupid to your heart.
You're pretty certain he's not even touching you to cop a feel and that he's touching you purely because he can't not. It's so casually, heart wrenchingly intimate that you wonder how on earth you got here with Ryuhei but also please can this never end.
Maybe having sex with him would have been the lesser evil and helped you to get over this crush, rather than doing this and deepening it.
Your brain also shorts when you arrive at your destination and it turns out that romantic bastard has taken you stargazing.
He's uncharacteristically quiet and when your eyes meet his, he looks at you like you're far more interesting than the inky sky littered with the moon and dazzling stars.
With galaxies.
With the goddamn universe.
Fuck.
.
.
Fuck.
Ok. Maybe you shouldn't have given yourself this because your stupid damn heart has betrayed you.
Give it an inch and it took a whole fucking mile.
Depression sets in and you barely get out of bed when you realise you don't just like him, you think you might be falling for him.
Ryuhei.
Ryuhei Kuroda, of all people.
You used to think he was a joke. A creep, if you're being honest. What was that you thought about restraining orders?
Now look at you.
Besotted with him. Checking your phone to see if he has texted. Smiling at the stupid memes and selfies he sent you.
You kick your feet with force and scream into your pillow.
Then pause briefly as you remember the funniest thing he said to you the other day. How he leaned in to whisper into your ear and his breath tickled your skin-
And you start screaming again.
But, you think, this isn't what depression feels like. You go through periods of gloom but mostly you feel like you're floating on clouds.
Your cheeks hurt from grinning so much, like a lovestruck idiot.
You actually feel like dancing and jumping around.
Because so what if Ryuhei is pathetic. Pitiful. Rumours swirling around him and his previous terrible taste with Mitsuki.
(Though you like the person that liked Mitsuki. What does that say about you? It's a terrible game of Six Degrees of Separation.)
And perhaps, worst of all, blonde-
None of it matters.
He's good to you and he makes you happy.
.
.
Ryuhei avoids your eye. 
Fiddling with his tie, his coat, running his fingers through his hair, twiddling his thumbs. Eventually he shoves them in his pocket. For a brief moment. Before he pulls them back out to lace his fingers together, then back apart then back together-
You grab his hands in yours, find them clammy and tell him, "Enough. What?"
His face snaps to yours, as if he didn't realise what he was doing.
A nervous smile spreads. His eyes drop as he mutters under his breath and you catch some vague Japanese.
"Ryuhei?"
He clears his throat, and looks at you again. You don't think you've ever seen him this nervous before.
"Can I kiss you?"
Oh.
Oh.
The innocence of the question completely catches you off guard.
It's definitely not the most risqué question he has asked you, and you note absentmindedly that the frequency of him asking you to sleep with him has declined since you've been... Whatever this is.
However, there has never been such build-up, or frankly shyness to anything he has asked you before.
You're strangely touched.
.
.
Ryuhei's eyes keep darting to your face. 
He can't hold your gaze in case he has somehow massively read this wrong and is rejected (Am I really as delusional as Kenta says I am, he thinks), though he is desperate to know your answer.
You're not at all the first person he has kissed but this feels like the biggest deal. The most important. The only person he has expressed more than a passing attraction to and has also dated, if you can call this dating.
He's desperate to kiss you. Has been desperate for a while, actually. It's not how he is used to operating but he thinks you deserve a gentleman and he's trying his best to act like one and learn somewhat from his past mistakes.
"Of course."
Huh?
Your words cut through Ryuhei's rambling subconscious.
His anxiousness and furrowed brows start to disappear when your consent sinks in. A small grin, toothy and lopsided, and one you find utterly charming, takes over.
Removing his hands from your grasp, his arms snake around your waist and you're pulled close without effort.
"Really?" Ryuhei asks. 
"Really."
"I can kiss you?"
"You can kiss me."
He doesn't hesitate.
Ryuhei leans down and kisses your forehead first. Chaste and nothing more than a peck. Moves further down and brushes his lips against your nose. Then your right cheek, followed by the left. 
Finally-
The last thing you see, before your breath hitches when you feel his smile against your own and your eyes flutter shut, is the way Ryuhei looks at you-
Gleeful, as always, and with total and complete adoration.
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honey-milk-depresso · 2 years ago
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“He wonders…” TWST boys dreaming about their crush (Heartslabyul)
Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde (literally just Idia) | Diasomnia
Ace Trappola
Ace would never admit it to you that he actually fell for you. And hard. Most of the time he just tried to cover it up by teasing you a lot. In reality, Ace can’t help but constantly dream about you all the time. And he hates it.
The thought of your laughter and smile while he drones out makes him dazed and hypnotised while in the middle of class, before he’s snapped back to reality by the teacher sharply calling for his name with a stone cold glare to wake him up.
When he’s in his basketball match and you suddenly pop up in his head in a pretty outfit while asking him out on a date, his lips subconsciously pouting a little while his cheeks darkened in red shade by just a tad bit, eyes clearly not focus… and he gets hit straight in the face by the ball.
He went to the infirmary for that one, since Floyd threw it to his face a bit to hard and it gave him a nosebleed. Ace hates it that you came to the infirmary to see him, with a worried look and nagged at him things that ring out white noise to him as he starts to dream of you again while you’re here.
The effect you have on him is very clear to Ace, that you are bold enough to run rent-free in his head almost everyday and not spare him an ounce of mercy. You’re the one teasing him all the time. That’s so unfair, as if he’s in a game he has no chance of winning.
His cheeks slowly turn red again, and he looks away. “Excuse me? Are you even listening to me? I said be careful next time!” You grabbed his face by cupping his cheeks and turning him towards you. “I was seriously worried you broke your nose!”
His dreamy thoughts of you raced in his head once more. You’ll be the death of him until he could finally utter out his confession. <3
Deuce Spade
The moment he fell for you, his teenage hormones didn’t help him even try to repress it. Once he dreamed about you, he really dreamed about you.
From how he dreamt about you on a date with him on a motorbike, or the both of you having a picnic together, to dreaming of you in a white dress… n-no wait, t-that’s too early- w-wha- “WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!” He shouted in the middle of the hallway while walking to class, suddenly embarrassed he yelled that while other students were around.
Every time he dreams of you, he makes it obvious that he is, unintentionally. Deuce would look dazed and almost vulnerable, cheeks flushed slightly pink, and most importantly, smiling stupidly to himself as his cheeks rest on his hands. Of course, Ace would take advantage of this to scare him while in this state, but even then would Ace start to get bored of it. Because he’s still not making a move.
He wants to tell you his little (very much an understatement) crush on you… but when you really face him he suddenly goes quiet and talks about everything but his confession. Not only that, he knows he dreams about you, and Deuce feels rather guilty for doing so and can’t overcome his shyness because of it.
As a result, Deuce came to his seniors for advice and all of them said the same thing: it’s better out of your system now than later. His dreams of you became more and more frequent, where he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. “Deuce?”
Deuce blinked, suddenly realising he was with you in PE Class and he’s just sitting down looking aimlessly. “Come on, silly. Don’t doze off in the middle of class,” you smiled. He blushed, he was dreaming of you again. It’s now or never for his dreams to become reality… <3
Trey Clover
It’s not easy knowing if he’s dreaming or not, and he rarely does anyways. He doesn’t even know how could ever dream something so sappy and romantic… until he does.
Trey would only realise he ever has a crush on you the moment he realises he spent 5 minutes thinking about you without realising he was. He dreamt about how you two would bake together, smear frosting and batter on each other, laughing together as he hugs you from behind…
…Ah. He definitely has a crush on you. As much as Trey want to deny it, the thoughts of you loving him in a way that most definitely wouldn’t be classed as “just friends” is something he can’t reject either. So he sort of just… accepts the fact he does indeed have a crush on you.
Trey ultimately treats you the same: your kind upperclassman you can always come asking for his help. It’s just that he makes himself more obvious that he wants the relationship to bloom into something more, and open up parts of him you that he doesn’t often show. He can be a mischievous little guy if you really ask for it~ ofc he is I hate him Argh *kisses him* >://
When his dreams of you frolicking in a field of daisies while smiling warmly at each other with loving eyes makes him really embarrass, and it’s something Cater definitely teases him about because it’s just so sappy, he still wonders. And he wonders if you dreamt of him in similar situations. Not in a creepy way but… he’s be really happy if you do, he hopes you do. Because that way, he knows that perhaps his feelings are being reciprocated.
When the time is right, when the both of you are alone in the kitchen, when you two are fooling around with oblivious joy, to not care about what anyone says about the two of you teasing each other with frosting and toppings… he would tell you… tell you tha-
“Trey? Are you gonna tell me the recipe on what we’re baking today?” You giggled, snapping him out of his thoughts. Huh… his own dream had come true. Now it’s only a matter of time, just when it’s right. “Oh! Of course. I have a little surprise for you afterwards, I hope it makes you happy.” <3
Cater Diamond
He shamelessly dreams of the both of you on dates, taking couple selfies together, and so much more. The only thing is that Cater doesn’t tell anyone that, although Trey pretty much has a hunch of who he’s thinking about when he sighs dreamily with a love stricken smile.
Cater dreams very fondly over each selfie you took with him, dreaming that one of those selfies would have you kissing his cheek, or the other way around whichever you prefer. Every flirt he sends your way back then was always platonic, and you knew. But now, it seems that he desperately hopes you do pick up that there’s something slightly different.
He dreams you picked up on his flirts and just kiss him on the spot, he dreams you fell in love the moment he fell for you too, he dreams that one day the both of you could live together… wait- JFKSKDJF OKAY WOW- HE WENT THAT FAR HUH-
Cater smiled sheepishly to himself, blushing furiously as the sudden realisation hits him that his feelings for you has grown beyond just a crush. Like a… super crush…crush. Yeah, that’s it. That’s gotta be trending.
Trey shakes his head as he listens to Cater ranting about how stupid he is for realising (and as if Trey would have DEFINITELY immediately know he had a crush on anyone I wish it was me-/hj )and tells him he should really try to tell you since you’re not really picking up on any signs he throws in. “It’s either you do or you don’t Cater,” Trey’s words would always ring in his head.
If only he could skip pass the whole confession anxiety and cut straight into the acceptance of being in a romantic relationship. If only he could… “It’s either you do or you don’t, Ca-”
“Cater?” “Gah!” The poor boy being startled by you, causing you to flinch. “I-is there something wrong?” “Wrong? Me?? Pshhh, nah, never!” “…you’re not a very good liar right now.” He sighs, suddenly feeling his cheeks burning hot. It’s either you do or you don’t…
“Well, maybe one thing’s on my mind…” <3
Riddle Rosehearts
He dreams about you the moment he fell for you, but the latter feels quite guilty about it. He knows what he’s thinking are romantic fantasies but why does he dream of such when he shouldn’t? When you two clearly establish that you two were only friends?
His dreams of you at a tea party where your hands covered his, or how the two of you play croquet alone with one another, or how the two of you kiss under the rose shelter… no. He shouldn’t… Riddle believes that his thoughts were unacceptable, especially when you two are friends. And you think you two were only friends, right? Then he can’t.
Unfortunately his dreams turned him to spending less time with you, so that he’d stop dreaming of you in such way. Of course, it didn’t work. He dreamt of you more frequently than before, and sometimes even nightmares of you leaving from him for good. He knew deep down he wanted you to stay, but why such dreams?
“Well it’s pretty normal to feel some romantic feelings for your friend. I mean I had a crush on someone when I was a kid, of course, backfired hard and we moved on.” “Trey, that doesn’t sound like a good example.” “Aha… well, I wasn’t serious about it since I wasn’t thinking serious, but if you really are serious about those dreams you have of them, Riddle, you should just tell them. You never know, maybe they feel the same way about you, too.”
The boy pondered for a while. “You feel the same way”… what if you do? And yet again he dreams again. He made it his plan, to apologise to you and explain why he did so, and tell you he’s come to accept his feelings and confess. Simple, practical and straightforward. He just hopes you think it’s genuine, because he really is.
He’s thought of the scenario over and over again, smiling softly to himself about how you’d nod your head and throw yourself at him to hug Riddle, and- “R-Riddle..?” He perked his head up with a startled look. You were right in front of him, suddenly bumping into you. “Er… how are you?” You smiled sadly, and he remembered how he had secluded you from himself. “W-wait, y/n I… I’m sorry…” “A-about what?” With his cheeks tinted pink, he took a deep breath… <3
Reblogs help!^^
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holdmytesseract · 4 months ago
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moodboard by the wonderful @chennqingg <3
One Last Chance [EoH]
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: Can you give Daryl one last chance and let him back into your life? After all, he never left our heart...
Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, swear words, angst? fluff-ish ending
Pre-Apocalypse Era!
Word Count: 2k
a/n: I dunno why, but I truly love this story. It's a very important part of the EoH universe. I hope you enjoy it, too! ☺️
EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
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And I was there standing outside your door
Waiting for you to show me how to stay
~ 'Ready to Fight' by Roby Fayer & Tom Gefen
"Go home, Dixon," spoke the bartender with dreadlocks, tattooed arms and lip piercings, while she was polishing one of the glasses. Daryl sat on the other side of the bar; fifth glass of Whiskey in hands. "You've had enough, don't ya think?"
The younger Dixon brother shook his head and snuffled. "Nah. Ain't enough. Still gotta numb the pain." Chrissie - the bartender - snorted out an almost sarcastic laugh, before shaking her head as well. "Alcohol won't solve yer problem. Whatever it is."
Now Daryl was the one laughing sarcastically. "Yeah? Well, I learned it from ma old man. Didn't fail ta help him." Chrissie rolled her eyes. "You're not yer father, ya know? Try to be better than him."
Daryl answered nothing for a moment; let her words sink in. The noises around him were so loud... Clinking glasses, loud voices and 'Every Breath You Take' by 'The Police' blaring from the old jukebox in the corner - and yet all he could hear were his own thoughts and Chrissie's words.
He took another sip; swallowing hard. "'S about a girl."
The hint of a smile could be seen on the bartender's face. "Thought so." Her words caused Daryl to frown. "Why?" She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "'Cause it mostly is. Yer not the first man sittin' here with lovesickness and a broken heart."
Once again, Daryl said nothing and just stared at his glass of Whiskey.
"What am I gonna do?"
Chrissie shrugged her shoulders. "Look, I dunno what the problem is, but I can tell ya this..." She threw the rug over her shoulder, leaned in closer to Daryl, "Go talk to 'er. 'S better than drowning yerself in alcohol." and took his almost empty glass away. The redneck shook his head. "Ain't workin'. Already tried. She ain't believin' me." Once more shrugged Chrissie her shoulders. "Then give her a reason to believe ya."
Those words struck Daryl to the core. Give her a reason to believe ya.
He lifted his gaze to meet the bartender's. "Fuckin' hell, yer right..." Chrissie winked at him. "I know. 'M usually right." Daryl stood up from the bar stool, "'S what 'm goin' to do." threw some money on the bar and immediately turned his back to leave for the door. Chrissie smiled; eyes following his figure vanishing in the crowd.
The redneck quickly made his way home. Well, as quick as possible with being definitely tipsy.
He staggered down the few steps, which led to his and his brother Merle's old, shabby basement apartment - if you could even call it an apartment. It was one room with an even tinier room attached, which served as a bathroom.
Daryl closed the door quietly behind him, but almost stumbled over a sleeping Merle, his empty beer bottles and stacks of Playboy and motorbike magazines with hot chicks on the covers. Merle grumbled and grunted in his sleep, but luckily didn't wake up. Daryl hadn't the nerve to argue with him now.
Reaching his little corner of the room, he rummaged through a pile of magazines, bills and other paperwork, until he found what he was looking for. With a victorious smile, he took the slightly crinkled envelope and made his way to the main door again. Why didn't he think of this right away? The possible solution to the situation he was in and the cure to his heartache was right in front of his eyes for days - maybe even weeks! He just had to grab it. And that's what he did now.
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Fifteen minutes later, he sat in a train; heading for Toccoa - your hometown. It took Daryl less than an hour to get to your parental home. He swallowed hard as he set foot on the porch; not exactly great memories flooding his mind.
Running his hand over his face, he took a deep breath and rang the doorbell; praying that you'd open the door and not your mom. Or, if Daryl was very unlucky and your dad would open the door, he was pretty much fucked.
Nervously chewing on his thumbnail, he heard footsteps approaching the door, before it swung open.
Life truly hated him.
Fuck, the redneck thought; fighting the urge to close his eyes.
As soon as your father's eyes met his, the older man's expression hardened. "What are you doing here?" The grey haired man spoke in a harsh voice; crossing his arms over his chest. "I told ya that I never wanted to see your fucked up ass on my yard again - and yet here you are..."
Well, let's put it that way... Your father didn't exactly like Daryl. Neither did your mother. They were convinced that he was nothing but a lost cause. A loser. An alcoholic - like his father. A junkie - and certainly very bad company.
In your mom's opinion he was too old for you and your dad said that he'd rather see you die as a single woman than being together with a man like Daryl.
The chestnut brown haired man clenched his jaw; tried to keep himself together.
"I wanna talk to Y/N. She here?" "Yeah, she is - but I won't let ya talk to her. Never again. Now get lost, before I do something I might regret."
Daryl snorted out his breath. "I ain't lettin' ya forbid me to talk to 'er. She's a grown woman. Ain't a lil' girl anymore. You can't tell her what to do!" Now your dad was laughing out loud, "What do you want to do, huh? Break into the house? Strike me down? Or even kill me right away?" before he gestured around. "Please... Do so. The cops are here faster than you can run - or wait... Are you even able to run? I'm sure you've taken a ship loads of drugs since I lastly saw your sorry ass."
Anger started to boil in the redneck's veins - and he had a really hard time controlling it. But, he also knew, that he could not fuck this up now. He was here to fix things... Not to break them even more.
"You ain't know shit 'bout me or what I do. None of yer business anyways." Your father took a threatening step closer to Daryl. "Oh, I know enough, Dixon. And since you try to get your dirty hands on my daughter, it is my business what you do," the older man snarled; raising his voice.
Daryl also took a threatening step closer; causing the both men to stand mere inches away from each other. The tension was literally cuttable with a knife - but not in the good kind of way...
"Oh yeah?! Well, lemme tell ya this then. I-"
Daryl got cut off by a voice which didn't belong to the man standing opposite him. It was your voice.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?!" You literally stormed through the door, seeing your (boy)friend and father almost being at each other's throat. "Well, I'm tryin' to tell your junkie ex-lover to move his ass from our property." "I ain't a junkie, you-" "I am a what, huh?! C'mon, say what ya have to say!" Your father immediately cut off Daryl. In return he planted himself straight in front of your dad threateningly; chest puffing.
That was the moment you knew you had to intervene, before something bad would most likely happen. "Stop! Both of you! That's enough!" You yelled and got in between them; pushing Daryl a few steps back - and he let you. Unbeknownst to you, took your sudden touch almost his breath away.
"For fucks sake, we are all adults here! Can we please behave like such, please?!"
Daryl immediately threw you a sorrowful look; while your dad still held his distrustful gaze. You looked both men dead in the eye, "Thanks." before you directed your attention fully on Daryl. "Why are you here, Daryl?"
The redneck swallowed hard. "'M here ta talk. Please." You took a deep breath, but nodded; "Alright." then turned to face your father. "Just a few minutes, okay?" He eyed you critically. "Please, dad?" You added; hoping to get through to him.
Silent second after silent second ticked by until he finally nodded. "Alright. But if he's not gone in ten minutes, 'm calling the cops. Are we clear?" Now you were the one nodding and agreeing to your dad's 'terms'.
With a last threatening look thrown at Daryl, the older man returned inside the house.
Once more, you met the beautiful blue-greyish eyes of the man who had undoubtedly captured your heart. For quite a few moments the both of you just stared at each other, until you cleared your throat. "What do ya want to talk about?" Daryl swallowed hard again; Adam's apple bobbing. "I miss ya..." The man whispered; causing you to immediately inhale deeply. "Daryl..." "No, please... Hear me out." You shook your head; crossing your arms over your chest. "We've had this conversation about a trillion times already..." "I-I know, but..." Daryl stepped closer to you. "Please. This time, 's different." "You say that every time, Daryl. And every time I gave you another chance and every time you fuck it up again," you paused for a moment; already trying to suppress the tears, before you continued. "Look, I really want to choose you, but... You're makin' it difficult."
The chestnut brown haired man squeezed his eyes shut for a moment; feeling the chilly evening breeze brush his bare arms and slip through the holes in his jeans. Chewing on his bottom lip, he nodded. "I know. Shit, I sure know I did. And I also know that I don deserve another chance. Problem is, that I fuckin' love ya, Y/N. 'M life's shit - but it's worse without ya, so please... One more chance. 'M beggin' you."
By now you were really fighting the tears. Still did his words cut deeper than a knife - because you felt the same. "I-I miss you too and you know that I love you more than I can say, but... I don't know how long I can play this game... I don't know if I can trust you over and over again, only for you to break it."
Daryl started to shake his head and took another step closer. "Nah, ain't fuckin' it up this time." He handed you the envelope, which was stowed away in his back pocket. You took it with a frown, "Open it." but did what Daryl told you.
Unfolding the piece of paper, your eyes widened. You certainly didn't expect that. "You... You've got an invitation for a job interview?" He nodded; hope sparkling in his eyes. "I-I- Wow... Didn't expect that, but... It's great for you." The redneck shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly; "Tried ma best, I suppose." giving you the hint of a smile.
"Whatcha sayin', sunshine? One last chance?" You took another deep breath; trying to thoroughly think this through. "I ain't goin' to fuck it up... Please."
What your heart wanted was clear. There was no mistaking, but... Was it the right thing to do?
You closed your eyes for a moment; knowing already that your wit had lost the game. Your heart was stronger. "Alright," you started and reached out your hand to subtly take his in yours. Daryl shuddered at your touch; goosebumps forming on his skin. "One last chance, Mr. Dixon."
Utter relief flooded the man's face - you could tell. He smiled that sweet, crocked smile you loved so much. "Thank ya. I won't disappoint ya. I promise." You lifted your free hand and cupped his cheek; feeling his stubble on your skin. "This was never about disappointment, Daryl..."
Daryl leaned into your touch and moved even closer; his intention clear - but you pulled back. "Not now. Not here. If my dad sees..." You swallowed hard. "We should keep that - us a secret for a while. I dunno what happens if we don't do that..." The redneck took a step back; nodding and lowering his head. "Yeah... Yer right."
You gave his hand a squeeze. "You should go now... Not that my dad really calls the cops. I wouldn't want that."
Daryl knew you were right, so he dropped your hand and walked down the steps leading to your porch. "I'll see ya?" He asked you; voice filled with hope. You smiled; nodding. "Yeah."
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Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @bigbaldheadname @stitchintimefan @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @mikaela-granger @sweetz1919 @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom @dixons-sunshine @mayday2007
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livviewritess · 5 months ago
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♡..I don't wanna be the owner of your fantasy, I just wanna be apart of your family.. ♡
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Dad!daryl.
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Summary: Y/Ns family isn't the best, so she finds comfort in the hot headed redneck.
Era: the quarry
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Tw: abuse (mental and physical), alcohol, methamphetamine use (drugs), PTSD, mentions of ADHD. (Let me know if I've missed anything.)
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Smashed bottles, shouting and fighting was the norm for Y/N L/N. Its just how It was. She had developed PTSD as a young child, flinching from any sort of loud noise or screaming. And today wasn't any different.
She walked out of the trailer she called 'home'. Although it wasn't much of a home. She lived and breathed in it, but she didn't go there when she wanted comfort or seek warmth. No. Never. She hated it there. It always smelled of Alcohol or weed, and the smell would just never go, no matter how much of her sacred perfume she sprayed.
She only had socks on her feet, and was wearing a pink nightie with bows on it, her hair neatly tied up in a ponytail. Tears fell from her tired eyes, dripping down her cheeks and onto the bundle, her baby sister.
Her parents where drunk, so they probably didn't even notice the absence of their 14 year old and 3 month old. That was the norm for the L/N family.
She sat down next to the water, her knees brought up to her chest, leaving just enough space to rest the baby in her lap.
The sound of her tears dripping against the little pit of water in the sound calmed her and the baby. She wondered why, though. The tears that where falling from her pretty eyes where one's made shed by her own parents. The two people in her life that where meant to help her and care for her. She stared at her reflection, brushing a piece of stay hair out of the babies face.
She cuddled her sister, humming her favourite song. She rocked side to side gently, before singing quietly, careful not to wake up anyone near.
"Staring down the barrel of the hot sun.. shining with a sheen of a shotgun.. Carol has a little if we need some.. joa has a ride if you wanna come.."
She carried on singing, tears brimming her eyes again. Faint footsteps carried up the beach, but she was too indulged in singing and keeping the baby asleep to care.
"grocery store list now you get this, I don't wanna be the owner of your fantasy, I just wanna be apart of your family.."
Footsteps creep up behind her and she jumped, spinning around on her knees. It was the redneck man with the motorbike. Daryl, his name was. She stared up at him, the bundle still in her arms. She was confused about why he was up so late. Until she realised she was too.
"What are ya doin' out here this late, sunshine?" He asked. She stayed quiet, bowing her head for a second, before looking up at him again. "I just.. wanted some space and water." She said, standing up. Daryls eyebrows furrowed with confusion and something else.. empathy.
He could see her tear stained face, the little wet spots on the babies blanket. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. He leaned his crossbow and string of squirrel and bird on the rock wall, before holding his arms out. Y/N looked at him confused, then passing him the baby. He rocked her, smiling a little.
"Cute lil' thing, huh? What's her name?" The gruff man said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Oh, Rose," she said, bowing her head once more. "Ya named her, didn't you?.." daryl asked, taking int he girls expression as a yes. He knew her parents where horrible.. just like his. He scanned her face, seeing himself in her. A young, scared, innocent little kid just waiting for their childhood to be destroyed.
"I.. I'm sorry for waking you, Mr Dixon, I'm so sorry.." she apologised, daryl shaking his head in disbelief. How is she apologising for something she didn't do? Ah. She did it often. To her parents.
"Ya didn't wake me, kid. I jus' came back from huntin'. Nothin' ta worry 'bout." He said, before letting out a huff, swapping the little on to his other arm carefully before pulling the kid into a side hug. And, she cried. Poured her little heart out. Sobs wracked through her body as daryl swayed, shushing her, and doing anything he could to comfort her.
"C'mon. Let's get Ya to bed. Yer sleepin' in the tent next ta me. The little one can sleep in yer arms. That okay sunshine?" She nods, smiling up at him, picking up his crossbow and squirrels up for him, following him up to his little spot.
"Merle the Madman isn't here.. right?.." She said, making daryl smile. Although he had disappeared thanks to officer friendly, he liked the nickname. "Nah. He's not here. Went missin'." He said, and she let out a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry Mr Dixon.." daryl layed out the two sleeping bags, patting it, letting her lay down comfortably.
"Nah. S'its alrigh'. Bastard had it comin'." She laughed a little, before taking her sister out of daryls arms, making her comfortable too.
"And sunshine?" Daryl said, turning to her.
"Yes Mr Dixon?"
"From now on, it's Daryl." He said, they both settled, eventually falling asleep, a smile on both their faces.
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Early in the morning, y/n woke up with an empty sleeping bag next to her. She yawned, and stretched. She sat up, picking up her little sister. She needed a bottle, but she decided to ask Carol for one instead of going back in that wretched camper trailer.
Her feet padded along the dirt, until she came to an abrupt stop around the camp fire logs. She stared at the sight infront of her, tears involuntarily falling down her face.
Her mother was lying there, a stab wound in her head. She had turned. She probably went outside to the RV to go to the toilet and got attacked. Or overdosed. One of the two.
Her dad was drunkenly screaming, as usual, Rick and Shane trying to calm him down, before his eyes landed on you.
He stomped towards you, and all you could see is flashes of the amount of times he'd hit you, and threatened your life. Your eyes widened as he got closer and closer, bottle ready to hit you.
Until someone hit him.
He fell, flat on the ground, groaning, blood trickling from the side of his head. Daryl had hit him with a nearby pole. She looked at daryl, tears in her eyes.
Daryl pulled her into a tight hug, comforting her and scowling at her dad at the same time. Nobody expected that from a dixon. The hitting thing? Yeah. The comforting a 14 year old infront of a group of atleast 20 people? No. Not at all.
Shane and Rick grabbed the man, hoisting him up, and putting him back in his trailer, slamming the door shut.
"Daryl! That is not how we deal with stuff around here!" Shane shouted, daryl shielding her from everything, but you looked under his arm.
"Maybe if ya lowlifes tried ta take him down 'Fore he started hittin' his own kid, I wouldn't have had ta hit him!" He snapped back at Shane. Shane scowled, shifting his weight onto one of his legs and putting his hands on his hips. "Let me tell you somethin'. Maybe if you pulled your head outta your ass, looked around and read the room you wouldn't have to hit people," he said, adjusting his awful cap.
"Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass and stopped thinking with your dick we'd have a stable community we all could live and thrive in." She said. Everyone went dead silent. So did he. And daryl. He just trudged away to go and deal with her dad.
Daryl and Y/N got back to their tent, and liv placed her sister into the makeshift cot. "Daryl?" She asked. "Yes sunshine?"
"Can I call you dad?" She said, staring up at him with those beautiful puppy eyes he just adored.
"Sure thing, Darlin'."
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An: I enjoyed writing this. One of my favourite fics so far I think. Thank you for reading <3
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crazymuffin1 · 3 months ago
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this post is for people who wonder what the hell is going on with the venom movies/fandom because they havent watched it
if youre seeing it on your dash and dont want to scroll very long press J. if youre on mobile. cope.
venom the last dance is the third movie in the venom series and people who haven't watched the movies are probably wondering whats going on. whoever you're following has probably posted or reblogged some sort of eddie brock x venom thing. yes of course. mlm ships are popular and theyre the main characters. of course theyre gonna get shipped. just like stucky or other hot main male characters. nothing really special about these guys. right?
wrong! because as opposed to the other ones being non-canon ships where we just look at everything and say "thats gay" or look at it through shipping tinted glasses, symbrock is a bit special.
to start off with! the source material! the comics! im not gonna make this part long, just a bunch of images with short descriptions and you can interpret it however you want (click for full image)
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panels ofter referred to as "the ones where they have sex"
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no comment
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even spider-man knows
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aaaaaand the comic writers/artists also know
theres more (like how they have a kid and eddie experienced morning sickness...) but this is about the movie! not the comics!
first movie moments. im skipping smaller moments and i'll try to not write out the whole plot.
eddie and venom go through a whole car chase scene on a motorbike, and the moment eddie calls him cool, they get his by a car. often interpreted as venom losing focus from the praise
-omg why would that lead to venom losing focus?? because venom, on its planet, is a loser. bottom of the barrel. an outcast. and someone called it cool. venom sees that eddie is also a bit of a loser on his planet. theyre two losers together. Eddie asks why he doesnt just kill him and hop to another host, but venom says that hes a good match (other bodies reject the symbiote, and die from organ failure/eaten from the inside) and venom is "starting to like him" venom also gets a bit stuck on the moment that eddie says we instead of i. its both of them. together.
later eddie finds out his organs were failing (venom was starving and was working on fixing it) and when they get seperated the way he acts is kind of framed like a bad breakup. its not "im free from this parasite! yippie!" its "i trusted you and you hurt me. we're done" sort of breakup. venom tries to say he was trying to fix it but eddie ignores it (not the exact words but if you look at it you'll get it)
eddie gets taken away by the bad guys and venom hops on eddies ex and they reunite. and its not just reunite.
its this
youtube
thumbnail shows human face but it does not start off with that.
fun fact! theres a sort of deleted scene where eddie asks "who was i kissing just then?" and she says "mostly me" and then we hear venoms voice saying "well actually it was mostly me!" ALSO at the end of the movie, she says it was venoms idea. this was venom and eddie making out. not eddie and his ex. they do not get back together. she has a new boyfriend and they've moved in together so its serious.
venoms original purpose as to why the symbiotes are on earth was as a scouting party for an invasion force. venom changes his mind on being on the invasion part. eddie asks what REALLY made him change his mind "you did eddie."
also after the movie was in theaters they made an additional romcom trailer to promo the dvd/blueray release. the movie. framed as a romcom. im not kidding. on sonys official youtube. for both movies.
speaking of both movies, the second one has them breaking up! full on divorce after fighting and arguing!! very sad. and then venom goes to a rave (october, there are costumes, hes fully transformed) and says "i am out! of the eddie closet!" HES COMING OUT OF THE CLOSET. one person at the rave has a mask on that says "kiss me" and venom says "sorry no, not my type" THEN WHAT IS YOUR TYPE HUH??? MEN?? SWEATY LOSER GUYS??? his hosts keep failing because theyre not as compatible as eddie. and after having fun venom is sad and wishes eddie could've seen him. they of course, get back together* after some apologizes and because they need to fight a serial killer who also has a symbiote (carnage) because previously, they went to interview him, he insulted eddie, venom got mad on eddies behalf and grabbed him, resulting in getting bit, and that spawned a new symbiote from the blood. also the serial killer, (cletus kassidy) went to bust out his girlfriend who upon seeing his tentacles breaking her glass cage, called it hot.
*when they get reunited (anne helps out again) theres no kiss this time, and annes fiancee, after seeing them fight, says "those two need some serious couples counseling"
after a big climactic fight and mutual reassuring that theyre a perfect match for one another, they flee to some random place in mexico where they sort of have a love confession. theres an extended deleted version of it but i think many of us think they cut it down to save it for the third movie. also they get transported to the mcu in the post-credit and then re-appear in the post-credit of spider-man where theyre just sitting at a bar asking the bartender about the blip and thanos. venom decides to go skinny dip but they get transported back to their universe. net zero gain.
THE THIRD MOVIE
hasnt come out yet. but the promotional things. the trailer. my god the tiktoks and twitter clips?? WHY IS THE TIKTOK VIDEO CAPTION VENOM X EDDIE 4EVER??? HUH???? WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME!?!?! IF I GET QUEERBAITED IM GONNA EXPLODE WHY IS ONE OF THEM FRAMED LIKE A COUPLES COUNSELING HELP GUIDE.
i cant post this one on tumblr but this tiktok is a slideshow, one image of venom and eddie from each movie, and the background song is "I've loved you three summer Lover - Taylor swift" with the caption "it's a love love relationship"
WE JUST WANT THEM TO KISS AGAIN AND HAVE A MUTUAL, EXPLICIT, LOVE CONFESSION. AND HAVE 4 HOURS TENTACLESEX SCENE. (not necessarily in that order)
and the first trailer that came out for venom3 has the line"eddie, my home [long pause] has found us" like girrrrrllll for a full 3 seconds i thought he was saying that eddie is his home.
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delicatebarness · 9 months ago
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i think he knows | prologue
Summary: Following the town's typical good girl, Reader, as she finds herself drawn to the trouble-making bad boy, Bucky. Much to the dismay of her protective golden boy brother, Steve.
Warnings: None I don't think for this one. If you believe there is any that I should add please let me know.
Word Count: 947
Masterlist | Next Chapter
A/N: Brooklyn isn’t New York Brooklyn, it’s just some random small town.
Tags: Let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series.
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Brooklyn High School is the heart of the town. Nestled between white picket-fenced housing and greenery. It projected community pride and tradition. As did its golden boy, Steve Rogers, the star quarterback, captain of the basketball team, and straight-a student. His dedication to both sport and school made the town believe he could do no wrong.
Yet, behind the blonde hair and blue eyes, the facade of perfection was a protective older brother. Steve’s younger sister, you, was simultaneously his biggest weakness and most valuable strength. Everyone who met you loved you; A shining example of everything good and pure in the world.
Steve had a sense of pride swell within him, greeting his classmates with nods, smiles, and the occasional fist bump. It was evident how popular the eldest Rogers was by the turning heads and whispers as he walked by. He never took his eye off the ball, or you. Between the chaos of the hallways and Sharon’s daily routine of explaining her & Steve’s schedule of the day, Steve always made sure you got to where you needed to be. He guided you through the halls so you didn’t trip or bump into anyone while your nose was in a textbook.
Down the hall, Steve saw the one familiar face that he couldn’t bring himself to respect - James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. Bucky was the opposite of Steve, known throughout town as a ‘rebel without a cause’. Steve wore a varsity jacket, Bucky wore a leather one. Steve drove a car, Bucky rode a motorbike. Steve trained for football while Bucky smoked under the bleachers. Steve was in a loyal long-term relationship, Bucky wouldn’t keep a girl around for longer than 3 dates at the maximum. While making their way towards class, Steve noticed that something had caught Bucky’s attention, you. Bucky’s gaze lingered on you as you walked past the group he was standing with. 
Steve’s protective instincts kicked in, causing him to speed up. Pulling Sharon along with him, he shielded you from the brunette’s eyesight. Glaring back at Bucky, Steve gave a silent warning to stay away; causing Bucky to smirk back at the blonde before turning his attention back to his friends. Once around the next corner, Steve took the book out of your hand, breaking your trance. “Hey I was-” 
“Keep away from Barnes,” Steve cut you off while holding the book above his head, just like he used to do when you were children and wanted you to play sports in the garden. “I don’t trust him.” 
“Give it back, Stevie,” Using the nickname only you were allowed to use, you didn’t stop trying to reach your book, you cursed his height compared to yours. For many years you wondered where his side of the genes were from. You still remember the days when he had no muscles evident or even height; for a good year or so you were taller than him while being two years younger. Then one day, it was as if he transformed overnight. Suddenly, he was towering over you and looked like he had lifted weights every day of his life. You sighed when he gave you a stern look, knowing what he wanted to hear first. “I’ll stay away, we’ve never even crossed paths.” Satisfied that you understood, he gave you the book back before the three of you carried on with your journey to class. 
You walked the rest of the way with your book clutched to your chest, noticing all the boys in the hallway avoiding eye contact with you, you appreciated that books and studying let you escape that feeling. They helped you live a life you could only imagine having. A restless reckless life, no routine, no worrying about grades; even though you did enjoy studying and continuing to learn. The “good girl” image wasn’t something you planned or wished for, you just were. Since you were young, your parents would always say they didn’t need to worry about taking you anywhere. You were naturally polite, and well-mannered, often putting the needs of your friends and family before your own. 
~
By lunch, you realized that you truly understood Steve’s warning regarding Bucky. He had been playing with your thoughts all morning, distracting you from your learning. A teacher had asked what you would consider a simple question, the room expected your hand to go straight up into the air. However, you were too busy mindlessly doodling in your notebook. “Miss Rogers?” Your teacher had been calling, waiting for you to snap back into reality. She directed the question to you when you finally looked up at her. 
The embodiment of everything you were supposed to avoid, the bad boy, rebel, “low life” according to your dad. There still seemed to be something about Bucky that had you intrigued. Of course, Steve’s warning wasn’t the first time he had your attention, the town is small and people talk. You knew about the tall, leathered-up, rider and the things he got up to around town. All the girls wanted to date him, the majority got to, at least for one date anyway. Not you, you didn’t bother thinking about relationships while still in high school. You always said you’d wait until you're at college and haven’t got a personal guard dog scaring off anyone who tried. 
Looking up from your textbook that was laid down on the lunch table, your eyes met with him for a brief moment, your heart began to race. Had he been watching you the whole time? As if he could hear your thoughts about him, he began to smirk at you sending shivers down your spine.
“Oh, sh-”
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aestherin · 1 year ago
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KEEP MY HEART
goal 17: kuni
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There have only ever been three times you saw Scaramouche so far.
First was when you reluctantly had to watch his team's match against your brother's. He was sporting a white jersey with blue accents, representing his own university with all his glory. Though laced with tension and fatigue, his whole being still demanded attention and attraction — from you.
Second, when you met him outside your own brother's — his rival — birthday party. It was purely coincidental, how he opted to stay outside and how you were running late to the dinner. It was fate, how you both clicked despite being strangers to each other. It was all adrenaline, the reason why you accidentally gave your identity away.
And the third was today.
No more invisible strings, no more coincidences.
He was here... of his own accord.
For you.
It would've been romantic if you disregard the purpose of his visit — but still! Does he always take his friends who stay indoors to go out and see the sun? No, you don't think so.
Maybe you're a special case.
"Hey," he greeted. Scaramouche was there with his hands tucked inside his pockets, leaning against the fences surrounding your home.
'He looks so damn attractive just standing like that,' you thought.
"Hi," you smiled sheepishly.
"Let's go?"
"To where?"
"Anywhere, I guess?"
"You're the one who's taking me outside and you don't even have an itinerary?" You laughed. "How are we even going to leave?"
The man was unfazed by your bursting out. He just sighed and shook his head.
"We're commuting," Scaramouche said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. He, however, spoke again before you even had the chance to. "I have a motorbike, but I didn't want to take a risk, just in case you didn't know how to ride one."
You shrugged. "I could always learn."
Unamused, he flicked your forehead. "Stupid. Don't you ever care for yourself?"
"No need."
"What?"
"You'll do that job just fine, won't you?" You grinned at how he easily he was affected by your teasing. He wasn't flushed, no. But the way his brows furrowed, how his lips formed a thin line, and how he looked away — it was all a give-away. You have an effect on him. Somehow.
"Do you just hit on everyone you meet?"
"Oh? So you took that as me hitting on you?"
"What else would that be —" Scaramouche clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Whatever. Let's just go."
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"Does your brother even know you're chatting and hanging out with me?" The boy that was sat across you uttered, having just finished sipping from his drink.
You almost choked. "Well, I would let him know if I could."
He nodded and continued sipping, but didn't bother to stop staring at you.
You looked away.
Did he really expect you would tell Kazuha about your interactions with him? If it was someone else you're crushing on, it would've been fine. You could always deal with a little teasing.
But Scaramouche? The captain of the University of Inazuma's soccer team? Rival of your brother, who was the captain of TNU's soccer team?
Kazuha would explode.
You looked back at the man.
Still staring.
"Uhh," you started off. "It's not that I'm ashamed of you or anything, it's just that..."
"Hmm?"
If the Lasso of Truth — Wonder Woman's weapon — were real, you swore you were currently binded by it. Scaramouche's expectant gaze, his slightly arched brow, and the tiny curve of his lips that he failed to hide despite his best attempt... it had the same effect on you.
It was something irresistible.
"It's just that... their image of you, in their team... let's just say, aha." You gave out an awkward chuckle. "It's not that good."
Scaramouche laughed at your words.
"Oh no, [Name]," he smirked, his tone straying away from his usual one. "Whatever would your dearest older brother do if he found out you were hanging out with a delinquent?"
"What the fuck? Scara!" You laughed.
"So? What do they say about me?"
"Rude. Arrogant. Ill-mannered."
"Ouch. But wow, that's actually fewer than I thought." He looked proud.
"Etcetera."
"Oh."
He frowned. "There's more?"
You just answered with a smile.
Your meal was filled with fun teas and hushed laughters, but it was cut short by vibrations from a phone on the table. It was Scaramouche's.
He picked the black device up, brows soon furrowing while reading the notifications he just received.
"Are you alright?" Concern grew. "What was it?"
He put his phone in his pocket. "Nothing."
You knew it had to be something.
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KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau
previous . masterlist . next
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SUMMARY — you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
TAGLIST I (closed)
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lisired · 2 days ago
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love jones
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pairing: photographer!haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, strangers to lovers, hollywood!au, photographer!haechan, model!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly wr- [gets hit by a car])
summary: After breaking off your engagement to your fiance, you move to Los Angeles to pursue a modeling career. There in the fairytale land where stars go to shine you meet Haechan, an aspiring photographer with a penchant for mischief and flirtation.
word count: 13.1k (/25.5k)
a/n: inspired by love jones; the song by leon thomas featuring ty dolla $ign and the movie by theodore witcher. this is the second/last installment of a repost; it is also the prequel to supermodel, which you do not have to read. installment one can be found here. as always, feedback is appreciated!
When you completed all of your errands, you had the taxi drop you off at Haechan’s place and bid Chaewon goodbye. According to your new beau, he should have been there waiting for you. Plus you saw his sleek, black motorbike parked out front. No doubt he was somewhere inside. 
You took a couple of deep breaths before ringing his doorbell.
Haechan was quick to announce he was on the way, and the sound of his voice on the opposite end of the door tempted your lips into a smile. He opened it with hastiness, flashing his teeth when he saw you. “Hi, baby. Come on in.”
You matched his radiant smile and stepped inside, letting him lock the door behind you. Meanwhile, Haechan was subtly checking you out. You were dolled up, compared to this morning. How you were so beautiful at both your morning glory and when you dressed up was something he would never comprehend. 
To say nothing of himself. You loved the image of his naked back that was permanently etched behind your eyelids, but your mouth also watered at the sight of him in his signature ripped jeans and leather jacket.
“This way,” Haechan said, shaking the thought of you out of his head.
You followed him upstairs, briefly scanning his place. Not a speck of dirt anywhere. Either he was very tidy or he was definitely trying to be impressive. 
Within a couple of seconds, you were led through a doorway that was obviously the entrance to his bedroom. You took a little scan. He had posters for days, to say nothing of the vinyls mounted on his wall. There was a shelf full of photo albums just shy of his desk and you were curious to look through them.
“Not bad,” you told him after realizing you’d been silently gazing about. 
“Thanks,” Haechan replied, removing one of his Michael Jackson vinyls from the wall with extreme caution. 
You watched him retrieve it with a respectable amount of vigilance and hand it to you. Though you were way too glad to finally have it in your hands, you couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right, even though you’d earned it fair and square. 
You met his eyes. “Why are you giving me this?”
Haechan arched his brow, surprised, but whispered, “Because I told you I would give it to you if you went on a date with me and I’m a man of my word.”
You shook your head. That couldn’t be all. “Yeah, but there’s no way you wanted to go out with a girl you barely know so bad you were willing to trade a signed Michael Jackson vinyl. These don’t come a dime a dozen.”
Haechan didn’t miss a beat. “Neither do girls like you.”
Your heart was doing somersaults and you didn’t appreciate the effect he had on you. Too much too soon. You could think of approximately a million reasons why this was a terrible idea, but the good outweighed the bad somewhere. 
A smile gracing your lips, you opted to reply, “Well, in that case, thank you, handsome.”
Handsome. That was a first. Usually, you’d just roll your eyes. 
“Glad to be of service,” Haechan chirped. 
With a chortle, you shifted your attention to his desk. There was a camera sitting there and you picked it up in favor of momentarily forgetting the signed vinyl you’d been gifted. Haechan watched you with curious eyes, wondering what in the hell you were doing. 
Rather than linger on the thought, Haechan began to strike some silly poses that were guaranteed to send you into a fit of giggles. He was terribly good at making you laugh and it made you sick.
Then, a mischievous thought struck you. “Take off your clothes.”
Haechan was baffled. “What?”
“Take off your clothes.”
Haechan laughed incredulously. Then, he realized you were serious, watching him expectantly. 
His hesitation made you roll your eyes. “I’ve already seen everything. You weren’t shy about showing off last night.”
That was true. You had literally sucked his dick and given him the most mind-numbing blowjob of his lifetime. More than once. So, he gave in, putting on his model face while he unzipped his leather jacket in no hurry. As if he was giving a strip tease. 
While he was shredding the layers of his clothes, you were snapping photo after photo, heat stirring in your thighs the closer he came to nakedness. He was a little too sexy for your liking. It wasn’t good for your health. 
Now in nothing but his boxers as he threw his tee over his head, Haechan decided you’d had your fun and called it quits. “Okay, that’s enough of the camera.”
You frowned, though set the camera down respectfully. “Why - you don’t trust me?”
For whatever reason, Haechan didn’t answer you verbally, instead opting to sit at his desk and gesturing for you to approach him with his fingers. Of course, you came to him obediently, straddling his lap as if he were a motorbike. With how bare he was, it wasn’t difficult to feel your warmth on his body and it drove Haechan absolutely mad. You had no business being this fine. Cute, too. You made his head spin. 
“You are the most dazzling thing I’ve ever seen,” Haechan whispered darkly under his breath. “Shouldn’t I be taking pictures of you and not the other way around?”
Leaning into his ear, you purred, “You can take all the pictures you want of me.”
Your true intentions were too obvious and Haechan chuckled a little, because he knew exactly what you meant by that. Out of nowhere, he swallowed your lips in a heated kiss, hands flying to your blouse while you both made out. You could feel the room heating up with every second, degree by degree. Haechan was like fire to the touch, your palm flat on his naked chest. Your little pants were making his dick stiffen in his boxers and you could feel it calling your name.
Not a minute later, you were just as naked as Haechan, sitting on his desk with your legs thrown open and his head between your thighs. You grinded into his mouth, muscles flexing with want. Fuck, you were jonesing for him. 
Haechan brought you to tears of climax over and over again for no other reason than him being downright smitten with you and it was maddening. You screamed more than once. Like you wanted the whole world to give him his flowers. Fuck, he could eat pussy. A little too good. I will never get used to this. 
Months went by at the speed of light. The more you hung out with Haechan, the more you became smitten. A part of you thought this would be a one-and-done situation, but you and your new beau were joined at the hip and displayed no signs of wanting to be unjointed. 
Every now and then, he would invite you to get-togethers with his clique too. Sometimes Chaewon would tag along, more than mingling with Mark. The eight of you combined were a vivid splash of personalities, but for the most part, you’d locked eyes on Haechan. 
He started taking you on actual dates. You went to bury your feet in the sand at beaches or meander along boardwalks. You had informal photoshoots, mainly where you were his muse, or took pictures of the blazing city. You hooked up in between but never took the next step of penetration, like you were saving it for a special moment. 
Haechan liked snapping photos of you on your dates and by now he was probably due for another photo album. There were so many memories being made that it made your head spin. Pictures of you painted in frosting. Of you embarrassedly walking back to your seat after not striking a single bowling pin. Every now and then you snuck an off-guard photo of Haechan when he wasn’t looking. 
There was a knock at your door. You paused dead in your tracks, surprised, because you weren’t expecting anyone. Your brain immediately wondered if it was Haechan there to take you on an impromptu date, and, giddy with excitement, you sprung up to answer the door. 
Your smile dropped when you saw who was there. “Jaehyun,” you greeted forbiddingly. 
Jaehyun stood there holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. “Hey, baby.”
Now your mood was officially spoiled and you were exasperated. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Shh, baby. Listen, I just want to talk,” Jaehyun said, flashing a smile. “I just want to talk.” 
“We have nothing to talk about together,” you hissed, shutting the door, but Jaehyun stopped it with his foot. 
Jaehyun grabbed the doorknob and met your gaze with those honey brown eyes you’d fallen for once upon a time. And they served as the perfect distraction from his lips. No wonder you never noticed that his lips didn’t tell the truth. “Baby, please,” he said. “Give me five minutes.”
You gave him a look, crossing your arms. “Five minutes.”
“I swear.”
After a couple of seconds of mulling it over, you made what was regrettably the largest mistake of your life. You sighed and let him come inside. 
Jaehyun grinned triumphantly and set the bouquet on your table, shutting the door behind himself. You had no idea how he found you and you were somewhat terrified of asking. 
Before he could open his mouth, you pointed your fingers at him and declared, “Listen to me, if you’re trying to win me back, I’m insulted that you think I’m as easy as some fucking flowers.”
“I don’t think you’re easy, babe,” Jaehyun whispered in his velvety voice. “You’re hard and I love that about you.”
You rolled your eyes and barked irritably, “I’m hard and you couldn’t handle that, so you went and stuck your penis in some easy whore.”
When you stood and walked into the kitchen, Jaehyun followed behind you desperately. “Oh, c’mon. Look, baby, I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I just...”
Arms folded, you watched him expectantly, gesturing for him to continue. 
“Shit. You know that I’m not good with words,” Jaehyun sighed, pulling something out of the inside of his suit. “Look.”
You narrowed your eyes. “And what is that?”
“It’s a boarding pass. I want you to come back to New York with me so that we can be together.”
“You had all of that and more, and you didn’t know what to do with it, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun was persistent. “Well, I want it again.”
You shook your head, maddened. You couldn’t believe him. You snapped, “I don’t understand why you think you can just waltz on up in here trying to woo me with flowers and shit and whisk me away to New York. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Jaehyun - mine sure as hell doesn’t anymore. That’s your problem, you know. You think everything is about you!”
Your ex-fiancé groaned, “What - are you seeing somebody else? Did you find a job?”
“Your five minutes are up,” you snarled, glancing at your wrist. 
“Well, I have to go anyway. I’m meeting my mother for lunch,” Jaehyun said, setting the boarding pass down on your table. 
“Tell I her I said, ‘Hello.’”
Jaehyun nodded, fixed on you. You didn’t meet his stare, too busy feigning indifference, but you could feel him burning holes through your body. He tapped the counter. “Think about it.”
“Leave, Jaehyun.”
Your ex heaved a breath, then begrudgingly walked outside your front door. 
On Saturday, Haechan came over to help you set up your album shelf because he’d sweetly volunteered a couple of days ago. Which was very kind of him. Truth be told, you knew nothing about putting pieces together and reading manuals made your poor brain hurt.  
For about half an hour you both were hard at work, constructing and organizing while sparing time for kisses and giggles in between. When it was finally done, you couldn’t believe your eyes. The vinyls were arranged specifically in the order you wanted them to be without a single one missing. 
A tear slipped down your cheek and you turned away from Haechan to hide yourself. Still, Haechan noticed immediately and swung his arms open for you. “Hey, come here.”
You crept into his arms without a second thought, letting him cradle you there. Though you wanted to chide yourself for tearing up in front of him, his arms felt like a safe place. Where you belonged. 
“Thank you,” you whispered to him, drying your eyes with the back of your hand. 
“What for? This is all you, baby. It takes a lot of commitment to do something like this. I respect the hell out of your dedication.”
You chuckled and slipped away, sitting at your bed, but pat the spot beside you. Haechan took the invite and crashed at your side, lowering his head into your lap and staring into your eyes. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just meeting his stare and matching his affection. 
Then, Haechan asked the dreaded question, “What made you want to start a record collection anyways?”
That made you stiffen. Haechan instantly noticed something was off and parted his lips to apologize, but you were quicker. “I didn’t start it. It was my grandfather’s.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Leukemia.”
“Shit. My bad,” Haechan apologized. 
You brushed him off, though there were a lot of emotions stirring inside your chest as you spoke. “It’s fine. It was years ago. He had a whole list of vinyls he specifically wanted. I’m just finishing what he started.”
In spite of your attempts to be nonchalant, Haechan could tell you were heavily affected by your grandfather’s passing. “That’s really sweet,” he told you sincerely. “I know he’s really proud of you.”
I hope so, you thought to yourself, wistful. “Yeah. Enough about me, though. What’s the deal with you and motorcycles?”
Haechan started laughing, probably at good memories, because you knew the feeling. It was your only option when it came to outweighing all the negative feelings. “My mom is a photographer and my dad is a reformed biker. She always got these cool shots of him on his bike. Growing up peeking at them through the garage door, I think it was just kinda natural I developed a passion for both.”
“Sounds like a happy family.” No envy was present in your tone, just genuine curiosity. 
Haechan bobbed his head, then leapt up to grab his photo album and crossed his legs. “These are a couple of the shots my mom took of my dad.”
You watched him flip the pages, photos of him as a boy flickering past until he stopped at the pictures of his dad on his motorbike taken by Mrs. Lee. Many of them were taken in different settings, but the most eye-catching of them all was the one of his dad in the city, helmet catching in the neon lights. 
It was like you were instantly enamored. The shots were beautiful. His mother had a great eye and you could clearly see who he got it from. 
“Wow. These are one of a kind,” you gasped. 
Haechan bobbed his head. “Yeah. You should meet them. I think they’d like you.”
Your heart started beating so fast you nearly had a heart attack. “You sure don’t waste any time.”
“I mean, not right this second,” he added, realizing he was moving at a quick speed. “I was just suggesting it for some time in the future.”
Meet his parents, huh? That meant he must’ve really planned on sticking around.
Rather than reply, you acknowledged his response with a pat and grabbed his photobook, carefully dropping it on your desk. You reached for his shoulders and straddled him, brushing your lips against his ears before asking, “How many hearts have you broken?”
“One,” Haechan replied, planting one hand at your waist and steering the other to your ass.
“Honesty.” That surprised you a little. Though Haechan had been nothing but honest with you. 
Haechan shook his head. He was tempted to kiss you, but he would settle for feeling your warmth on his lap. For now, at least. “It wasn’t like that,” he said. “I broke her heart, she broke mine. We’re even.”
You weren’t jealous, but your curiosity got the best of you. “Do you still talk?”
Haechan immediately snorted. As if. “Nope.”
“Hm.” You were looking at his dumb handsome face, wanting to kiss him, but wanting to be stronger. 
You had Haechan’s undivided attention, because he was studying you, hands rubbing you up and down. Your breath picked up in speed the longer he continued and he fought a stupid smile. “Have you ever been bad for someone and they were bad for you?”
With a frown, you gave him a nod. That hit a little too close to home. “Mutually bad? Yeah. Been there. Done that.”
Haechan was sobering, getting a little vulnerable with you for once. “It’s true, what they say. Two wrongs don’t make a right. That’s why it didn’t work out. Both trying to make something right while both being wrong as hell. We took turns being at fault.”
“Sounds toxic,” you replied with a grimace.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said, snickering. “What about you - bad history?”
You shifted a little. It was a reminder that you had spoken nothing of Jaehyun to Haechan. Why would you anyways? He was history. Thanks to all those months with Haechan, you’d forgotten all about Jaehyun until he randomly entered your life again. Never in a million years did you once imagine you’d go so long without your ex-fiancé back then, but Haechan made you forget. 
The feeling of Haechan’s body warmth gave you a little push. Playing nonchalant, you replied totally deadpan, “Oh, you know. Nothing crazy. He was sweet in the beginning and talked about getting married and having kids. Then, we started arguing, but he would always make up for it and I would forget. Then I found him balls deep in another girl.”
Haechan winced. “Damn.” He pointed over to your desk. “That ring from your mystery lover?”
You quickly frowned. For whatever reason, Jaehyun never demanded it back, and you didn’t know what to do with it. Though Chaewon had been very adamant you throw it off a mountain never to be seen again. You cloaked your melancholy with humor, “Nothing gets past you.”
“So, you were engaged.”
“Not when you hit on me,” you said, knowing immediately what he was referring to. That night at the bar. You almost laughed. Oh, how the tables turn. “So I guess you were right about my vibes.”
Haechan chuckled, but he was a little in his head now. Your engagement had to be recent, he realized. It made a lot of sense.
Temporarily discarding those thoughts, Haechan reached for his camera with his hand coiled around your waist, making you furrow your brows at him. “What are you doing now?”
He pointed it at you. “For the photobook. One more before it’s full.”
“Should I pose?” 
“Just be sexy.”
You scoffed, “I’m always sexy.”
“Exactly, baby,” Haechan replied, back hitting the mattress while your legs were still draped over either side of him. 
When Haechan pointed his camera at you, you smiled for the picture. It printed out the polaroid immediately, which Haechan took and handed to you for approval. You looked it over and beamed with acceptance. Your smile was different there. Not one of those forced model smiles. It was like you were smiling at Haechan rather than the camera.
“Your photo album is complete,” you announced, leaning over to kiss his neck. 
Haechan quickly tossed everything to the side in favor of clasping your hips in his hands again, because it felt natural to hold them. Your breath tickled his neck, not to mention your lips on his throat.
He grinned wildly and whispered, “Thanks for being the finishing piece.”
You giggled and finally kissed his lips, having exhausted all of your self-restraint. Haechan kissed you back just as feverishly, as if you’d both been waiting for each other to snap but didn’t want to forfeit. 
First it was just harmless kissing and touching, until your bodies became restless. Haechan tested the waters, so to speak, nimble fingers unbuttoning your blouse until it fell. He made short work of your bra, unclasping it and tossing it aside. 
You were exposed to him, though he’d already seen everything you had to offer. Many, many times. But there was something different about the way he looked into your eyes and how your heart raced when his fingers brushed against you.
Haechan kneaded your breasts, resulting in you having to suck in your breath. Your soft sounds made his dick twitch in his pants. He could feel that the air was thicker too, the two of you suffocating beneath the weight of your own desire. 
You’d had enough of being teased by him and pulled his lips back onto yours by his collar, throwing his shirt above his head all the while. All you wanted to do was kiss and taste him. And maybe fuck him.
Scratch that. You definitely wanted to fuck him and your body wanted him even more. “Haechan,” you grumbled, clawing at his jeans. “Take it off.”
There would be no need to tell him twice. Haechan gently steered you off of his lap and sat up to remove his jeans, leaving him in his boxers, but you were quick to take care of that situation. You didn’t waste any time freeing his hard cock from his boxers, much to his amusement.
“I want you,” you told him, finding his eyes with a fixed stare. “Inside.”
Well, that left no room for misunderstanding. Haechan’s brain shut down at the thought of being inside of you, though he played it cool. “How do you want me?”
Bringing your hand under your skirt, you tugged your panties past your ankles and threw your legs open, smiling coyly. “Come and get me.”
Haechan growled, “Woman, you drive me crazy.”
You giggled, but the noise faded out when Haechan crawled over you, kissing you again. Neither of you could stand to be apart from each other for three seconds. All you wanted was to feel him so deep inside you that he could never leave.
Haechan realized something and pulled back with a groan. “I don’t have a condom.”
You arched a brow, stifling a laugh. It was very unlike him. You’d seen the inside of Haechan’s wallet more than once and he kept a condom, though he hadn’t brought it with him. Probably because he wasn’t expecting to need anything. “I have an IUD,” you said. 
The realization on Haechan’s face was laughable. “You mean?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck, you really want me to…”
“Yes, Haechan,” you repeated with a groan. “I’m not about to beg you to cum inside me.”
“Maybe you should,” Haechan suggested, the grin back on his plush lips. 
You rolled your eyes. Then, a thought struck you, and you half-joked, “You’re not a bastard that’s stuck your dick inside half the girls in the city, right?”
“If you wanted to know my body count, all you had to do was ask,” Haechan retorted.
“You haven’t asked about my body count.”
Haechan kissed the corner of your lips and told you frankly, “Baby, I couldn’t give less of a damn what your body count is.”
Well, that was good to know. There were a couple of guys you’d been with that would freak out if they knew you’d hooked up with more than a couple of boys. 
“Unless you’re a serial killer,” Haechan added lightheartedly. 
You were caught off guard and snickered, corners of your lips upturned. No matter the time, Haechan could be counted on to make you laugh. “I’m not a serial killer.”
“Good.”
You peered up at him and joked, “Promise not to give me chlamydia?”
Haechan snorted. “You’d be the first girl I’ve hit raw.”
You believed him, but it surprised you when Haechan held out his pinky. You rolled your eyes, prompting a laugh out of him, but intertwined your pinky with his. It was kinda cute. 
The mood completely shifted from that moment on. His dick lined up at your entrance, the tip teasing your hole. All you wanted was to feel every inch of him buried inside of you. He was slow and steady, taking his time to fill you, inch by fucking inch. 
Some noises left each of you when you’d swallowed his length whole and he slinked down against your velvet walls. His hands left your waist in favor of your hands and he slipped his fingers through yours affectionately, squeezing them as he wondered why you hadn’t done this sooner. 
The same thought was heavy on your mind, though you had no regrets. Neither did Haechan. For whatever reason, it felt a billion times more special now compared to if you would have hooked up earlier. 
It felt like you were making love.
“Haechan,” you cried out, all the heat in your body gathering at your core. It felt like he was stretching you open. 
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” Haechan sighed, eyes fluttering closed. “Shit, baby. You’re so damn perfect.”
Haechan was so deep that you could feel him in the pit of your stomach, keeping the butterflies that had made a home out of your gut company. You felt at ease with your hand in his and his warmth enveloping you from head to toe. 
It was over when Haechan started to set that steady, comfortable pace. It wasn’t too slow, but he thankfully wasn’t jack-hammering you either. The rhythm was just right. He glanced down at you, a weight on his eyelids, and asked sweetly, “Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect,” you whispered, lips twitching into a smile. You grabbed his face and smashed your lips against his, desperate to feel him everywhere. You could taste yourself on his tongue and inexplicably, it made you feel a different breed of insatiable. 
Haechan kissed you back even harder in between grunts and curses, typically followed by your name more often than they were not. You were making him dizzy. You were making him entirely dependent on you, as if there was no him without you in his arms. 
Sweat stuck to your skin, little beads of moisture dripping down your back and breasts in numbers. Your whole body was alive, craving him like no other. Your thighs tensed, heat spasming in your palms. Your hips moved to their own accord, trying to match Haechan’s thrusts because you wanted to feel the euphoria to the max. All the pleasure turned you into a madwoman.
Haechan pulled back, the heat of you reworking the wires in his brain, and asked, “Do you mind if I take pictures of you?”
The question did a little more than catch you off-guard, though the more you mulled it over, the more your thighs tightened with want and arousal. You were entertained by the idea, that was for sure. It was like nothing you had over done before, in spite of the fact that you modeled for a living. Maybe it was the heat getting to your head, but you were inclined to agree. 
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Haechan said, noticing your hesitation. 
You shook your head, grinning at him with tiny little stars in your eyes. “I want to.”
Haechan’s lips twisted into a beaming smile of their own and he plucked the camera from wherever he had tossed it to, pointing at you once more. Rather than getting a shot of your face, he was snapping photos of your heaving chest. 
Then, it was your stomach, the print of his dick visible against your tummy. Followed by your neck and collarbone, decorated by the necklace he’d gotten you a couple of weeks in advance.
“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan hissed, lowering his head to kiss your breasts. You sighed softly at the feeling, content. 
Your breath caught in your throat when he handed you back the polaroids for self-approval, pussy tightening around his stiff dick. Which he couldn’t help but notice and grinned slyly. 
You tapped his forearm and asked, “Can I see the camera?”
“Sure,” Haechan said, handing it to you. 
You knew maybe a thing or two about how to work a camera, courtesy of your industry, and navigated to the self-timer without any need for his assistance. Then, you sat it down, and pulled his lips onto yours by his hair again. 
As if he hadn’t already known, that single-handedly confirmed that you were the one.
You were getting closer by the minute. All of the kissing, touching and sucking (and photo-snapping) was making short work of the both of you. Haechan had internally worried about busting too quick when you permitted him to go bareback, but you weren’t far behind. 
All of it was making you mad with lust. The heat and the sounds and the pressure. Your whole body was overloaded, writhing with pleasure. 
Haechan was whispering sweet praises in your ear partially to get you off just in case, because he was going to unravel any moment now. His finger thumbed your clit, and with just a look at your face tense with bliss, he was getting closer. 
“I’m gonna… Haechan, fuck,” you moaned, barely coherent. It was hard to speak with him strumming you to climax, and the weight of him on top of you. It was game over. 
You’d come to notice the signs of Haechan’s impending orgasm and they were all staring you down right now, so when he let out that final, high-pitched moan of your name preceded by a string of curses, it wasn’t even somewhat shocking when you felt his fingers find yours and tighten around them again, his release painting your walls. 
That was all it took to break you, his hot cum spilling inside the tightness of your cunt. It was a wordless orgasm, but an intense one, looking into his eyes with all the pleasure and wanting in the world as you shuddered with climax. 
For a long minute, the two of you just took a while to gather your bearings. Then, you took one look at each other, and burst into a fit of giggles. Your heart was taut with something bittersweet. 
A couple of hours (and rounds) later, Haechan was still at your house. You both took a long, hot shower together with the excuse of saving water and walked back inside your room. 
You sat on your chair while Haechan took the bed, just staring at each other for a minute. “I’ve really been having a good time these past couple of months.”
“Glad to be of service,” Haechan chirped, a bottle of beer in hand. 
You chuckled. 
Haechan could feel a shift in the air and it was somewhat unnerving. He asked, “Why do I get the feeling that there’s about to be a really strong but here?”
Your laughter turned nervous. Which was noticed. After a while, Haechan started to pick up even the slightest of changes with you. That was what he did. “I’m, um, going to NYC next week for a little bit.”
And there it was. “Oh, yeah?” Haechan hummed, nonchalant. “For how long?”
“Just a couple of weeks, I think. I don’t know. Probably just a couple of weeks, if not less,” you said, avoiding eye contact. 
“Well, what’s going on in New York?”
“I’m just…,” you trailed off, fighting the nerves in your gut. “I’m just poking around, you know? Looking for some gigs. And I also have some… unfinished business to take care of.”
Your response was vague as ever, which told Haechan everything that he needed to know. “Your ex.”
You frowned. Haechan was many, many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. There was no way that you could play him for a fool. “Haechan, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I really care about you, and I’m not trying to hurt you.”
There was a moment spent in silence as Haechan processed your words. “Well, I appreciate your honesty,” he said after a moment. “But aren’t we just kickin’ it?”
Your eyes flickered. “So, you’re not mad?”
“Pfft. Hell no,” Haechan said, feigning indifference very skillfully. “I’m not your man. I don’t have a ring on your finger or anything like that. Go on to New York and do whatever you gotta do. I mean, we’re just friends, right?”
“Right,” you mumbled, but there was something dark lingering in your chest. “Well, I’d like for you to meet me at the airport next week, if you want. Kiss me goodbye maybe.”
Haechan chuckled lightly. “Is it goodbye or see you later?”
“See you later,” you replied sheepishly. “I’ll call you when I’m back.”
“I’ll stay by my phone.”
You smiled thinly.
Then, the night came for you to fly to New York. 
“Because if he knew what he was doing, what the hell am I doing in the picture then?”
Jaemin nodded. “Riddle me that.”
Haechan continued, “Why am I hitting it?”
Jaemin acknowledged Haechan with a raise of his drink. 
Lifting his own drink, Haechan scoffed. He’d been in out of his head and was realizing that he might have been a fool for you. He was conflicted. First of all, you’d started acting a little distant a couple of weeks before when up until then, things had been sailing smoothly. 
He figured you were stressed from work and didn’t press you about anything, until the other night revealed your true feelings. You were going back to the man who’d disrespected you and your relationship and he couldn’t understand why.
But it wasn’t for him to understand, so he was going to pretend as if he didn’t care about you. If you wanted to run off to New York City and get fucked over by a dickhead again, that was your decision. Why the fuck should I care? He grumbled to himself. 
On the one hand, he’d made countless memories with you all in the span of two months and thoughts of a future with you were like a whirlwind in his mind. He thought you felt the same, but on the other hand, he realized he was nothing but a pit-stop along the way. Like he was in the backseat of the joy ride and none of it mattered because it was harmless fun. 
“Let me tell you the real deal,” Haechan began, settling down his drink. “The real deal is I don’t think she can handle it.”
Jaemin chuckled. 
Haechan threw his head back. “Jaem, I put it on her. Boom.”
“And now she’s gone.”
“Now she’s fucking gone.”
“I feel you, man,” Jaemin said, dispatching messages from his girlfriend before turning his phone screen-side down. “But wait a minute. I thought you two were just… you know, um… kickin’ it.”
“That’s not the point, Jaemin,” Haechan groaned, running his fingers through his hair. 
“So, what’s the point, my friend?”
Haechan bristled. “I’ll tell you the point. Have you been listening? I’m gonna tell you the point. Matter of fact, I’m gonna feed you the point. The point is…”
Jaemin cocked his head, glancing at Haechan expectantly with a wry smile on his face. 
“Man, fuck this, that’s the point,” Haechan barked irritably. “I’m gonna find me a fine ass woman and we’re gonna have some fine ass sex on this fine ass night.”
Jaemin retorted, “You’re gonna wake up with a fine ass hangover and get a fine ass ass-whooping.”
“Whatever, man. You should get laid, too. Tell Winter I said what’s up,” was all Haechan said before marching over to the bar. 
He got another drink and sat there for a while, completely in his thoughts. Most of them about you, obviously. No matter what, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d obviously fallen hard in spite of whatever bullshit he fed his friends, because you were all he could think about. 
Distractions, distractions, I need a fucking distraction, Haechan hissed to himself. Then, he turned around, and briefly made eye contact with a woman who’d been fucking him with her eyes. 
If you wanted to play, Haechan was down for the game. And he had plenty. 
All the while, you were across town. Walking around the airport, you were nothing short of antsy. For good reason. 
Are you coming? 
Sent two hours ago. There was no telling if Haechan had seen the message, considering his read receipts were off. Maybe he was just ignoring you. That could have been it. He told you he’d let you know if he could make it tonight or not, but the last time you heard from him was the night you’d dropped the news. 
An instagram notification popped on your phone and you accidentally clicked it, being taken to Jaemin’s story. And you frowned when you saw a picture of him and the boys - all of them - out drinking. 
Then, your flight was called, and rather than wallow in all of the bad feelings, you sucked it up and got on that plane. 
Days passed. Nothing from Haechan. All coming back to New York did was remind you why you left in the first place. First of all, Jaehyun was adamant that you didn’t pursue any of the gigs you’d come there for. Something about him being a provider and some other bullshit you weren’t exactly keen on hearing. 
When you instead ventured around the city, meeting up with some old friends and the like, it only made things worse. You walked by all the places Jaehyun used to visit with you once upon a time, before each of your worlds clashed and you realized it wouldn’t work. 
Maybe a couple of months ago, it would have made you sad. Now, you just wanted to get the fuck out of here. You felt like you were wallowing in memories you had no intention of ever bringing up again. This just wasn’t your home anymore. 
Sharing a bed with your ex-fiancé at night didn’t help, because all you did was dream of zipping through Los Angeles at night on the back of Haechan’s motorbike. You imagined speed and restlessness. You could feel the wind whipping through your hair and his hands on your waist. 
“I’m home,” you grumbled one day, kicking off your shoes at the front door. 
Nothing. Much to your surprise, Jaehyun didn’t say a word. Almost like he wasn’t even there. Which was strange, because his car was parked out front and according to his schedule, he should have been back by now. 
You were getting flashbacks. Being home earlier than expected, slipping inside the house unheard like a thief in the night. He had the audacity to have you sleep in the same bed he’d probably fucked countless other girls in. 
Fighting off the thought, you heard a noise in the kitchen and followed the sound. Jaehyun was looking through the cabinet, seemingly not noticing your presence until you tapped on the counter and greeted, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Jaehyun repeated, then pointed to the cabinet. “Where are my Frosted Flakes?”
“Oh, I finished the box this morning.”
Jaehyun groaned, “Oh, you couldn’t just eat the damn Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”
“Oh, brother.” You rolled your eyes, setting your purse down on the counter. 
Jaehyun was bristling. “Look, I’m sorry I had a bad day today.”
“Well, I had a bad day, too,” you retorted, taking off your coat. 
“So, you wanna tell me about it?”
“No,” you hissed, hanging your coat on the coat rack in the living room.
“Baby,” Jaehyun called out behind you, following you to the couch. “I hate to see you, you know…”
“Wasting my time,” you interrupted.
Jaehyun gave you a little nudge, fixing you a stare. “You know that’s not what I meant. All I’m saying is that I can provide for the both of us. I don’t want you to deal with…”
“Getting a job?”
“Rejection,” Jaehyun hissed. “And stop finishing my sentences.”
You laughed humorlessly, turning away, and blew out a sigh. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“What?”
You raised your voice, “I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“No, I heard you,” Jaehyun said, clearly upset now. Again. “After all these years together, you don’t know why you’re here?”
Now, you were getting irritated. Because this was how it always went. You looked him in the eyes again and exclaimed, “No, I don’t, Jaehyun. And you wanna know why? Because even after all these years together, we still don’t know how to make this work, and it never fucking will.”
Jaehyun couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth. Rather than try to hash things out with you, he stood up and said, “I’m going out for some fucking Frosted Flakes. You’ve lost it.”
Then, he left. Like he always did. 
You heaved a breath, irritated. All these years, he said. All those years wasted. All those years that you could have spent on something worthwhile and yet he’d stolen time from you. You just couldn’t put up with this bullshit anymore. 
That night, you slipped your engagement ring on his pinky finger and crept outside of the bedroom to dial a number. 
“Hey, I know it’s late, but can I stay the night? I need to book a flight.”
As soon as the next day, you were back. Again in the Los Angeles air, you felt like you could breathe again. That suffocating feeling that you got after Jaehyun popped up in your life out of nowhere completely dissipated. It felt more like those two months of relentless happiness you’d felt prior to his unannounced appearance. 
Months of happiness thanks to Haechan. Something about the thought of him made butterflies flitter about in your belly, but an acute pain spread throughout your chest like wildfire. You hadn’t called him like you said you would. And you didn’t really know why. 
You just couldn’t stop thinking about that night and how he wasn’t there. You didn’t see his message until after you got off the plane, a thoughtless response. Couldn’t get out of plans. Sorry. Ttyl. 
You faced reality and accepted that it wasn’t that he couldn’t be there. He just didn’t want to be. 
And then the unthinkable happened. Sitting in the corner of the cafe sketching, you glanced up when you heard the jingle of the bells announcing that somebody had walked in. You didn’t notice whoever walked inside, your eyes fixed out the window you’d accidentally brought your attention towards. 
All you could feel was a burning when you saw Haechan holding hands with some girl that was leaning against him, hanging on his every word. You didn’t even realize you were on the verge of breaking your pen until a friend you’d been there to meet tapped your shoulder, cocking you a worried look. 
It was a full-blown war. 
Not many days later, you were in the park, snapping pictures of the scenery. If Haechan wasn’t there to take you out on dates, you would take your damn self. Like hell you needed him to do anything. 
Then, you heard somebody call out your name, and spun around. “Oh, hey, Jeno.”
Jeno dug his hands into his sweatpants pockets, shooting you a grin. “Whatcha doing?”
“These are flowers. This is a camera. I’m photographing the flowers,” you deadpanned, obviously not in the best mood. Then again, that was just your usual bitchy attitude. 
“Ah.” Jeno crept closer, eyes giving you a quick scan. Not too close, but not too distant. “You like savoring the beautiful things in life?”
You snorted. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
When you least expected the action, Jeno gently took the camera out of your hands, earning a half baffled and half curious glance from your part. You hid your face when he pointed the camera at you. 
Your voice was muffled. “Jeno, what are you doing?”
“Savoring the beautiful things in life,” Jeno replied smoothly, just giving you that angelic smile of his as he continued to snap photos of you. 
Jeno pulled your hands away from your face and brushed a stray hair out of the way, looking at you with the gentlest touch but the least subtle eyes. “You are incredibly gorgeous,” he purred in the deepest tone.
Though you were tempted to roll your eyes, you had a moment of realization. There was a flash of rage that shot through your body like lightning. All you could see was those memories of Haechan’s endless flirtation playing back in your mind and it made you bristle. 
Rather than beat him, you joined Jeno, lashes fluttering. “You think so?”
“My eyes never deceive me,” Jeno said, looking you up and down with obvious want. 
“What about Haechan?”
Jeno seemed almost irritated at the mention of his friend’s name, gently pulling you just a bit closer to him. “He might have found you, but where I’m from, we play for keeps.”
You met his bold stare. “And you wanna keep me?”
“To say the least.”
You snickered. 
“Do you like steak?”
“I love steak.”
“That’s perfect, because I know a place. Five stars,” Jeno whispered huskily. “I’d like to take you out to dinner Friday night. What do you say?”
You pretended to mull it over, when in reality you’d been thinking about it for the past five minutes at length. Jeno had never been subtle with his flirty quips from the day he met you, in spite of the fact that you were Haechan’s date. Apparently there was no brotherly code. 
That, or he had absolutely zero regard for whatever it was. 
You chirped, “It’s a date.”
Even more days passed. Nothing from you. Haechan figured you were still in New York searching for work and whatnot, and, knowing how passionate you were about your job, didn’t dare disturb you. 
Though he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you. 
“She’s back,” Jaemin said, sitting down at the table. 
Haechan furrowed his brows, asking, “Who?”
“Your girl, man,” Jaemin replied. “She’s back in town and she’s been going out with Jeno.”
Mark winced from across the table. “Damn.”
Haechan’s voice was low, almost like a mumble, “She didn’t tell me she was back.”
Jaemin patted him on the back. “I just thought you deserved to know, man.”
“You move too fast, dickhead. You probably scared the poor girl away,” Ryujin shot without looking away from her phone, playing a heated round of cup pong with Mark via iMessage games.
“She’s kinda right,” Jaemin agreed. “Slow and steady wins the race.”
Haechan took a much needed shot of liquor and grumbled, “Oh, shut the fuck up, Jaem. The whole reason Winter rejected your ass was because you were doing too much too fast.”
“And I revised my plan and made her mine. Isn’t that right, baby?” Jaemin asked, gaze flitting over to Winter. 
Winter giggled, leaning into his touch. “Right, baby.”
“You two make me sick.”
Winter quipped, “Jealous much?”
“Never in a million years.” Haechan grimaced. “I’m not drunk enough to put up with this right now.”
Ryujin exclaimed out of nowhere, “You limp dick bastard!” 
Mark was in the midst of a fit of giggles, laughing his ass off. “It’s one thing to suck at cup pong in real life, but you suck online, too?”
“I’m this close to deporting you back to Canada,” Ryujin hissed. 
Everybody froze when Jeno walked up to the table, taking a seat in front of Haechan. The whole spot was quiet. “What’s up, Haechan?” he asked. 
Haechan cocked his head. “What’s up, J? You been doing anything lately?”
“Fuck, yeah, man. I been doing a whole lot,” Jeno replied offhandedly. 
“Oh, yeah?” Haechan questioned. “Like what?”
Jeno shrugged, acting nonchalant. “Oh, you know. I’ve been out in the sun and shit. Getting things wet. Wallowing in the heat. Got a new boat.”
Winter grimaced. 
“Really?”
“Really,” Jeno repeated, locking eyes with Haechan. “See, I’ve been riding the wave lately.”
Haechan set his jaw, but played it cool. “That so?”
“You bet it is. Just been… cruising.”
“I think I test drove that model,” Haechan said with a little nod, picking up his glass. “Took it for a spin and all.”
Jeno narrowed his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. A couple of times.”
The tension at the table was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Jaemin and Winter got up to dismiss themselves with the excuse of wanting to be alone, while Mark and Ryujin sat there quietly, exchanging thoughts telepathically. Then, Jeno’s phone started to beep countless times. 
“I tell you, I hate when this happens,” Jeno sighed, taking out his phone and grinning slyly when he looked at the screen. “You know?”
Haechan quipped, “Mom keeps texting you, huh?”
“Not this time,” Jeno retorted. “This is one of my boating buddies.”
“Mm,” Haechan hummed, bristling at the thought. His whole body was cloaked in heat, a bite to his next words. “Well, I hope you don’t get thrown overboard. You’ve never been good at staying anchored.”
Jeno retaliated darkly, “You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you, Hyuck?”
Haechan lifted his shoulders. “Nah, you know me. I’m the captain. I invite the passengers on-board and I dismiss them. You tend to step on unfamiliar territory and get walked off the plank.”
Mark and Ryujin exchanged identical glances. What the fuck are they talking about?
“But it’s okay. You can’t help it,” Haechan added, setting down his drink and rising to his feet. “Yo, Mark, Ryu, I’ll get with you guys another time. Later.”
Jeno chuckled. 
Ryujin cocked him a glance. “Aren’t you a little too old to be fighting over some babe?”
“Never, Ryu,” Jeno replied, laughing a little. “Plus, I can’t help it if I’m the chosen one.”
“Chosen one, my fucking ass.”
Mark shook his head in disapproval. “You know you’re foul, right?”
Jeno groaned. “Foul for what, man?”
“Dude, come on. That girl shouldn’t even be anywhere on your radar. It’s like you were waiting for Haechan to slip up,” Mark replied with obvious disdain. 
“Whatever, man,” Jeno scoffed. “She chose me, alright? Take that up with god.”
Mark and Ryujin exchanged looks. 
A few dates with Jeno to forget the gaping hole Haechan had left in your heart ultimately came back with a bite. Jeno was sweet and all but you couldn’t feel a connection with him, something Haechan had made you feel within moments of your first date together. But you were still bitter. 
With that in mind, you kept up the act, all the while wondering if it was torture for him as much as it was for you. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Jeno. The dinners gave a nice first impression and he had an interesting personality. But no matter how much there was to like about Jeno’s indulgences and mesmerizing looks, he wasn’t Haechan. 
After a couple of weeks of dating, Jeno invited you to a party on a whim without much specifics and you spent the rest of your Thursday afternoon choosing an outfit. Maybe you wanted to look extra cute in case you made a special appearance in somebody’s Insta story and Haechan happened to see. 
It never crossed your mind that he might’ve physically been there. 
You locked arms with Jeno as you stepped into the party, allowing him to guide you throughout the house, weaving in and out of crowds of people. 
“‘Sup, guys,” Jeno greeted his clique when you both walked up to them.
You counted four faces and every single last one fell at the sight of you, their incessant chatter instantly ceasing. The lack of Haechan was very noticeable, but at the time, you were more concerned with how apparent it was that absolutely none of them knew you’d been invited. 
Clearing your throat in humiliation, you asked, “Um, where’s your bathroom?”
“Upstairs to the left,” Ryujin answered, but her face had yet to shift from that grim look. 
You thanked her and excused yourself, quickly fleeing up the steps and wishing some kind of chasm would open between them, swallowing you whole. 
Jeno glanced at Mark. “What up, Minhyung?”
Mark shook his head in disapproval. “Like I said. Foul.”
“Man, come the fuck on. Give me a break,” Jeno grumbled, irritated. This conversation was exhausting and it didn’t help the more it was had. 
Jaemin was wearing a reproachful frown, chastising, “That’s some fucked up shit, man. And you know what you’re doing is fucked up.”
“Pfft. Whatever.”
Jaemin narrowed his eyes and stood up straight. “Whatever?”
“Don’t,” Winter said swiftly, putting her hands on Jaemin’s chest. 
Ryujin crossed her arms, wearing the most withering scowl known to mankind. Her eyes cut at Jeno. “I’m disappointed in you.”
In that same second, Haechan stumbled from around the corner with a victorious smile that fell instantly once he caught a sight of Jeno. 
Mark scratched his head. Awkward, he mouthed to Ryujin.
She blew out a breath. 
Jeno scanned Haechan, smirking at him. “Yo, Donghyuck.”
Haechan mumbled a greeting, glancing away from Jeno. 
As if this whole ordeal didn’t already make you want to chew glass, it went from worse to worst the second you skipped down those stairs and stood next to Jeno, making eye contact with Haechan whose brows furrowed in shock. Your heart raced. This was without a doubt the most embarrassing moment of your life. 
You tapped Jeno on the arm. “You and me. Outside. Right now.” You brushed past him without waiting, immediately heading for the door. You couldn’t bear to be there for another second. Not like this.
Jeno eventually came outside the front door, calling out your name behind you as you ran down the stairs.
“Take me home now,” you demanded, pointing to his car parked right out front.
Jeno caught up to you, having the audacity to pretend to be confused, and asked, “Come on. What’s wrong?”
You gave him an incredulous look. Like you couldn’t believe he had the nerve to play dumb. “You just made a fucking fool out of me and I don’t like that shit. If you and Haechan wanna have a dick measuring contest, I want no parts.”
“Baby, I’m sorry,” Jeno apologized, reaching out to console you.
You snatched your arm away from him. “Don’t touch me. Just grab your keys and take me home.”
Jeno switched on a dime, hissing, “Like you didn’t think for one damn second that he was going to be here.”
You snapped, “No, because you gave me all of two seconds in advance to prepare and didn't have the decency to give me details!”
“And that’s my fucking problem how?”
“Jeno,” you snarled, taking a deep breath. He was really testing the last of your patience. “Are you gonna take me home or what?”
Jeno scoffed, “Hell the fuck no.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” you said, turning on your heels and stomping down the sidewalk. You were disappointed, but not surprised. 
“Walk!” Jeno exclaimed, turning around and heading back inside the house. 
Haechan glanced around when Jeno walked back over without you, baffled. “Where is she?”
Jeno exhaled a breath, stuffing a hand inside his pockets. “I don’t know,” he lied. 
Jaemin gave Jeno the utmost repulsive look. “You just left the woman outside? Don’t you know what kind of freaks walk around at night?”
Haechan didn’t bother to interrogate Jeno in spite of his questionably stupid actions, because even after all the weird shit going on between you two lately, he still had the decency to want to make sure you got home safe. He grabbed his coat and made a break for the door. 
Winter and Jaemin were shooting Jeno matching scowls. She grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and pulled him away wordlessly. Meanwhile, Ryujin had her arms folded snugly across her chest, clearly not pleased either. 
Jeno glanced down at her and barked, “What? You got something to say to me, Ryujin?”
“I don’t have a damn thing to say to you,” Ryujin hissed, following behind the couple. 
Which left Mark and Jeno. “You’re an asshole, dude,” Mark said. 
“Fuck you, man.”
Ryujin came back to grab Mark, leaving again this time with him in tow. 
All the while, Haechan was chasing you down the sidewalk, jogging to catch up to you. It was chilly outside, and he saw you wrap your arms around yourself to shield your bare skin from the nipping cold. 
Haechan called out your name. You could hear his footsteps just behind you. “Slow down.”
“I’m not in the mood to chat, Haechan,” you said, not glancing back. You couldn’t look into his eyes again. It nearly killed you the first time. 
“If you slow down, I can call you an Uber or something,” Haechan insisted.
All of your emotions hit you tenfold in that moment and you whipped around, exclaiming, “What do you want?”
“First of all, calm down. I know and you know that you don’t wanna be outside this late in this cold ass weather stomping down the street like somebody stole your fucking bike,” Haechan said even louder than you.
You scoffed, tightening your arms around your body. 
“Look,” he started, leaving a good distance between your bodies. “All I wanna do is get you home safely. No extra shit. I’ll call you an Uber and then it’ll be over.”
You couldn’t exactly argue with that. For fuck’s sake, Jeno - who had been your ride -  left you in the cold to die and you didn’t know your way around this area of town. With that in mind, you begrudgingly agreed. 
It was silent for a good while after Haechan called you an Uber. Neither of you said a word to each other, and you both stubbornly made sure that was extra space between your bodies while you waited. His leather jacket now being draped over your shoulders didn’t bother you in the slightest. 
Well, maybe that was a lie. You were bristling with sudden longing. Obviously, it smelled exactly like him. You were breathing him in even though he was what felt like worlds away from you. 
Haechan tried to resist his temper, but the dam ultimately broke and he snapped, “What the hell are you doing going out with Jeno? First you take flight to New York to see some dude, and then you’re fucking on one of my boys?”
The mention of New York and Jeno only fueled your flames and you shot back, “All you had to do was tell me that you were seeing somebody.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not seeing no one.”
“I saw you with her outside the fucking cafe next to the record store.”
“I’m always by the fucking record store,” Haechan exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “What are you talking about?”
You rolled your eyes. You had enough of men playing dumb with you for one night. Thankfully, the Uber pulled up just in time, and you sneered just as you got in the backseat, “You know what the hell I’m talking about.”
Haechan watched you get driven off, puzzled. Like you were speaking an entirely different language. And then it hit him. “Ryujin’s friend. Shit. God-fucking-dammit.”
He took out his phone and opened your text messages. Fuck, he hadn’t texted you in forever and a half. At least text me when you get back home so I know you’re safe. 
Haechan shoved his phone into his pockets, doubting you would reply. Imagine his surprise when his phone buzzed only a couple of moments later. Okay.
Sure, it was one word, but he would take it. One was better than nothing. Right now, he had to think of a way to salvage this relationship. 
The first thing you did when you were safely back inside your condo was text Haechan that you were back home safe and block Jeno’s number. Then, you took off all your makeup and prepared to take a long, scalding shower. You didn’t even realize Haechan hadn’t asked for his jacket back until you went to undress yourself. 
Many thoughts were weighing on your mind as the hot water hit your skin. You felt like an idiot. For going to see Jaehyun, for entertaining Jeno’s fuckboy tendencies. But worst of all, for wishing your feelings for Haechan would go down the drain. 
You had finally come to terms with the fact that your heart wanted Haechan, even if it took a long time to accept and even if you were in denial that you couldn’t have him. You worried that you had already fucked things up too much. And you worried that you never had a chance to begin with. 
There was very little room for misunderstanding in the fact that you were easily replaceable. It was borderline offensive how quick Haechan was to pop out with a new chick while you were away. Like all of those months together meant nothing to him. Your biggest fear was that they were only special to you. 
You cried yourself to sleep that night. You’d lost the game. Again. Maybe you were just bad at love. You figured you would probably do everyone and yourself a huge favor if you stopped involving your heart and focused on your career like you always wanted.
So, you decided that that was what you were going to do. 
Neither you or Haechan spoke to each for weeks. Sitting on your bed, you wondered if he was thinking about you and what went wrong. If he was as fucked up and heartbroken as you were.  Maybe you did it to yourself. Something told you not to fool around with Haechan too much, after all, but you still kept him close because you were human and you wanted to be loved. 
All you knew was that you couldn’t stay here, sitting in ruins over a boy you couldn’t have. When Jaehyun cheated on you, you felt dirty and lacked the strength to rouse out of bed in the mornings. You couldn’t let yourself steep to that point of misery over something you couldn’t even call a break-up. 
You glanced at your phone. Should you have called him? Maybe you should have at least texted him, since you didn’t do either when you came back from New York. 
Almost worlds away from you, Haechan was sitting by his phone with the same thoughts wearing him thin. You were wearing him thin. He wanted to call you, but if you thought you were stubborn, Haechan gave you a run for your money. 
You said you’d let him know when you were back and Haechan waited and waited. You never called. Not one fucking time. So why should he have called you?
Because you love her, hissed the voice in his head that made Haechan roll his eyes in annoyance. He was past denying the truth, but he was terrified of confronting it. Loving you made his blood chill with fear. It wasn’t a question of whether or not you loved him back. It was if you loved him enough to make it work.
His emotions were all over the place. First of all, he was spiteful and wanted to hate you. He was angry. For fuck’s sake, you went out with Jeno for what - to make him jealous?
But on the other hand, all those memories you’d made with each other weren’t simple to forget. Every time Haechan closed his eyes, he saw you. Your gorgeous smile and twinkling eyes. He could taste your chapstick on his tongue and feel your warmth in his arms, as if you were some lingering ghost that was haunting him in spirit. He could hear your laughter ringing in his ears as he told you a stupid joke solely to make you laugh. 
Jesus fucking Christ. Haechan had been in love, but never like this. Your love was mind-numbing. No girl had ever made him feel this many emotions all at once. You made him want to scream and shout, but you made him want to smile. You made a void ache in his chest. 
Haechan’s phone started to ring. He scolded himself for immediately hoping that it was you finally calling him like you should have weeks ago, but was disappointed when he saw it was Chaewon. But his curiosity got the best of him and he brought the phone to his ear, answering, “Hello?”
“Hey, Haechan,” Chaewon greeted somewhat somberly. 
Haechan could immediately tell that something was off. He could hear it in her tone. “What’s up, Chaewon?”
“It’s about your girl,” Chaewon said, sullen. She was obviously very worried. “She’s going away for a few months. She got a deal out of state and they’re flying her out.”
Haechan set his jaw. You were leaving - again. And he had to find out about your whereabouts through somebody else. Again. “Oh. Good for her, I guess,” he replied indifferently. 
Chaewon snapped, “Don’t give me that nonchalant bullshit, Haechan. You know and I know that you both care about each other. Now, listen. She’s my best friend and the love of my life, but I understand that she hasn’t been making the best decisions lately.”
Haechan interjected, “So what? I should go clean up her mess? I’m not her man and I’m damn sure not her fucking daddy, Chaewon.”
“Don’t start getting an attitude with me,” Chaewon hissed. “If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that her flight leaves today at four. I just thought you deserved to know that. It’s not your job to finish what she started, but if you still want to, you know where to find her.”
Haechan heaved a breath. 
Chaewon added, “It’s up to you. I think you two could set things straight if you communicated with each other for once. But if you don’t want that, then forget I said anything. I just thought with how adamant you were on pursuing her that you would be the last person to give up on her. Maybe I was wrong.”
Haechan sighed. Again. His head was throbbing. “I’ll think about it,” he finally exhaled after a moment or two. 
“Okay. Bye, Haechan.”
Haechan spent all of three hours debating whether or not he should have come to see you. He was still bitter over the lack of communication, but after a moment of pondering in silence, realized that was why you two were in this predicament in the first place.
If he would have been honest about how he felt about you going to New York, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe you would’ve never left. Never entertained Jeno. You would’ve stayed in his arms where you rightfully belonged. 
After all this time, he realized something. His open arms would still be waiting for you when you were ready to come back to them. Fear corrupted Haechan when he had a thought. The fear of you never coming back. What if you went away for months and met a different guy that you liked? What if you never came back?
He wasn’t ready to lose you, he quickly realized. He wasn’t ready to give you away either. The first thing he thought when you told him about your ex was that that guy was a dumbass for kicking you to the curb. 
And if Haechan thought he was stubborn, his heart was going to put both of you to shame. 
Haechan grabbed his keys and burst out the front door like lightning, immediately mounting his bike. Even the damn bike reminded him of you as he probably broke the law with how quickly he was speeding. On a motorcycle, we get to dodge all the traffic.
He looked everywhere for you. Every corner he turned, there were people living their day-to-day lives, giving the guy running through the airport like he was playing Subway Surfers a brief, baffled look. Haechan didn’t care. He didn’t give a flying fuck who thought what about him, unabashedly in love with you. He would shout it out in front of all of these strangers if that was what it took.
Finally, he saw you, closing in on your terminal. He shouted your name loud enough to disturb some people and earn a couple of disdainful glances from onlookers. 
You turned around, recognizing that voice before you saw his face. 
Your heart raced when you saw Haechan jogging over to you and for a moment you were pleased to see him, but then you remembered how ruined you were because of him. You pretended not to care and sneered, “If you’re here to get your jacket back, you’re out of luck. I already checked in and I don’t have my luggage.”
“Damn that jacket,” Haechan hissed, his blood pumping a billion times per second. Only half it was because of how fast he ran. “I can’t let you leave like this. Not when we have so much unfinished business to work through.”
You barked, “Me and you are nothing. We have nothing.”
“Really?” Haechan asked, staring at you in disbelief. “All those months together meant nothing to you?”
Those words reminded you of that night at Jaehyun’s place, as well as the fact that Haechan couldn’t have cared about you, which only made you bristle. You lied through your teeth, “Nothing.”
Haechan switched on a diming, changing tactics, and hissed, “Bull-fucking-shit. I spent so many nights waiting for you to call. You never did. I could have got at least a fucking text or something. But you know what I got instead? Nothing. A whole lotta nothing! I had to find out from somebody else that you’re back and then you go out with Jeno.”
All you could do was give him an ugly scowl. How dare he march up in here to shout in your face? Like you were the villain. “I waited for you to show up. You never did! You said you were busy, but you were at the fucking club. Don’t even lie because I saw Jaemin’s story.”
Fuck, you saw that? “So, I go out and have a couple of drinks and you decide you want to fuck Jeno?”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you seethed. “All I wanted was for you to kiss me goodbye, but you stood me up so that you could drink and get laid. I saw you outside the cafe with the girl. That’s why I didn’t call you.”
Haechan softened in realization, understanding that he had fucked up more than he thought. Still, he kept riling you up. It was the only way you both would get answers. 
“You went off to New York to fuck your ex,” Haechan reminded. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal that I got laid too.”
You exclaimed, “I didn’t want to go to New York!”
“Then, why the fuck did you?”
You ran your fingers through your hair. He was just so good at getting under your skin. You confessed morosely, “Because when I had sex with you, it felt like we were making love. I was in denial about loving you, because I didn’t want to take the risk of getting my heart broken again.”
Haechan wasn’t sure what he was expecting you to say, but it wasn’t that. He was positively stunned to silence.
“Jaehyun asked me a couple of weeks before that to come to New York. And I wasn’t going to, but I was conflicted. And you acted like you didn’t care, so,” you explained yourself rapidly. “I went there to see if I still loved him, but all I harbored when I got there was resentment.”
God, I am a fucking idiot, Haechan hissed to himself. He swore he wasn’t going to fuck this one up. 
“Then, I started going out with Jeno, thinking I could get back at you while also proving to myself that I wasn’t in love,” you whispered. “But he wasn’t you. That was when I knew you’ve ruined me.”
“You’ve ruined me too,” Haechan said softly, approaching you a little further. “She’s not you. I want you to know that. I only hooked up with her because I was upset and I wanted to distract myself from you.”
You were silent. His words weren’t exactly comforting, but you were both finally being honest with each other. And yourselves. 
Haechan grabbed your hand in his, locking eyes with yours. “I fucked up. I should’ve been here the first time, but I wasn’t.”
Your eyes watered and no matter how hard you blinked, you couldn’t battle the tears. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt about me going to New York? It would have mattered.”
“Because I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to control you,” Haechan replied, a well of regret and self-loathing. “I was trying to respect your decision.”
You chortled through your tears. “A gentleman to your core.”
Haechan shook his head, frowning. “In retrospect, there are so many things I could have done better. Maybe I was moving too fast for you, baby, and I’m sorry. I get a little overzealous.”
“Trust me, Haechan. You’re just the right amount of zealous.”
Haechan snickered. Leave it to you to make him laugh even during a moment like this.
Now that you both had cleared the air, you felt like there was a weight off your chest. You could understand each other and rationalize the other’s actions. You should have just talked a long time ago. 
“I didn’t fuck Jeno,” you blurted. “Or my ex.”
Haechan hung his head. “I’m sorry for accusing you of that. And for not being honest about my feelings.”
“I forgive you,” you spoke softly. “I’m sorry for not calling you and for going out with your friend.”
“He’s not my friend,” Haechan said like he was repulsed. “You helped me see that, so I forgive you.”
Your lips broke into a grin when he wiped a tear from your eyes. 
Haechan’s expression suddenly turned sober and he declared, “I wanna start over.”
“Haechan…,” you started.
He shushed you. “I’m not the easiest person to get to know but half of it is because nobody ever gives me a chance. People look at me and see what they want to see. They think they’ve got me all figured out.”
That was true. You knew it, because you had been one of those people. You got your heart broken by a fuckboy once and Haechan made it way too easy to assume he was the same. 
“Even if I broke your heart, I wanna put it back together again,” Haechan continued. “Will you let me do that?”
God, your whole being was consumed by. The love you had for this boy was all-consuming. You just wanted to be with him for the rest of your life. “Yes. You already know I will.”
Haechan smiled triumphantly. All he knew was you. If he couldn’t have you, he didn’t know what he would do with himself. 
“But I’m literally leaving for three months,” you reminded him, a frown on your face. 
The reminder jolted Haechan back into reality, but he knew better than to ask you to stay. He knew you loved your work and he wouldn’t dare come between that bond. “You remember what I told you on our first date? About dating long distance?”
Your frown got bigger. “Yeah. That you didn’t know if you could make it work for me, but you would at least try.”
“I changed my mind,” Haechan told you, looking at you with all the love in the universe. “I don’t give a fuck what I have to do to make it work. I don’t care how hard I have to try. I love you and I’m willing to sacrifice everything for us.”
All you could do was stare into his eyes. Those three words made your head spin. He loved you. “Really?”
Haechan bobbed his head. “I’ll call you every day. I’ll text you good morning when I wake up and goodnight before I go to bed. But you have to meet me halfway.”
“I’ll meet you in the middle,” you said in a heartbeat. “I’ll text you every time I think about you. We can watch stupid romcoms then talk about them over the phone. I’ll call you and tell you how my days are going.”
“I want to hear all of it. The good days and the bad ones too. I wanna be there for you,” Haechan whispered tenderly.
“You can do all of that.”
“You promise?”
You nodded. “It’s gonna take some effort, but… I know we can make us work. You just have to accept that I need space sometimes and I don’t always make sense.”
Haechan snorted. Like he didn’t already know that. “No offense, but I think we just had a crash course on that, baby.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight it anymore and smashed your lips against his, bringing him in for a kiss. They called for passengers to board. Haechan’s hands were quick to grab your waist, holding you tight like he didn’t want to let you get on that plane. But he once heard that if you love someone, you’ll let them go. So, that was what he was going to do. 
When you pulled back, Haechan said, “Promise when you get back we’re gonna watch a really cheesy movie together and dance to MJ.” 
You chuckled, slipping your fingers through his and squeezing. “I’ll save the date.” 
Haechan smiled, letting out a breath. “Bye, baby.”
“See you later,” you whispered, almost like you didn’t want to go. But you knew you would regret not getting on that plane. “I mean it this time.”
Haechan snorted. Finally, after exchanging one last kiss, he let you go. 
He watched you slip away. There was a familiar feeling taut around his heart, but he toughed it out. You’re gone again, but that’s okay. Because this time, I know you’ll come back. 
“I’ll wait for you,” Haechan whispered to himself, turning away once you were out of his sight. 
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narcjsistx · 6 months ago
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hii can you do a hc where reader and toman!draken are dating and how draken acted in the crushing stage?
HI! thanks for the request, hope you have a good day ❤️‍🩹
𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
— Draken in a relationship HCS ᡣ𐭩
When he realized that his friendship with you was becoming much more intimate, he wondered if it was really love or just one of those fleeting crushes that you have during adolescence but disappear after a short time. Only after realizing that months and months had passed and he still felt this way, indeed, he was even more affectionate, did he understand that perhaps it really was love
When he realized that it wasn't just a crush he simply told Mikey, even though he knew that his best friend would hardly make fun of him. When he said that, Mikey continued to laugh like he'd heard the funniest thing in the world, but later admitted that he just figured it out and wanted to see how long it would take for Draken to realize it wasn't just a crush
Tell you he likes you? ABSOLUTELY NOT. He knows how to treat a girl, yes, but the mere fact of talking about such a delicate topic with you stops him, so yes, if you don't take the first step, he will hardly take the first step
Once put together, prepare to be one of the most protected people in the world. Come on, he is the vice president of one of the biggest gangs in Kantou, all his friends are respected and have no problem starting a fight... so yes, you will hardly have problems with other people if they know who you are with
Jealousy isn't exactly a part of his character. He may rarely be, but he trusts you too much to even think there might be a problem
You only found out about his family situation some time after you met him, even before you got together. By mistake Mitsuya revealed it to you and Draken was right nearby, but he was surprised when he saw you absolutely normal with his situation, not joking about it like it had happened in the past with other people. Maybe this also made him understand that he was in love
Accustomed to Mikey since they met, he has no problem with being childish, in fact he probably even finds it cute. No, certainly starting to cry because he didn't buy you something is not what he means by 'cute', but maybe seeing you passionately talking even just about a stuffed animal you saw in a shop window yes, he finds that cute
It happened that during one of your outings, people looked at you a little badly because you were going out with someone who doesn't have a 'normal' appearance, let's remember that he's a delinquent anyway... well, this thing made you quite a littel sad. Draken noticed it and simply proposed to increase the dates where you went on a motorbike together, he knows you like them and there people don't have the possibility to judge you because you go too fast to be looked at properly
As a joke, one day you braided yourself a braid similar to his. He teased you by telling you that there is only one Draken, but inside he was dying to hug you because he found it extremely cute. But hey, he's got a tough reputation that he needs to live up to
He gives me too many "put whatever you want, I can fight" guy vibes. Come on, for him the looks of others who stare at you in amazement are priceless
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