#that which only time i know has the key to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

frenchkisstheabyss · 1 day ago

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♡ 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖♡

♡ Pairings: fratboy!jaehyun x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!johnny x chubby!fem!reader, fratboy!nct members

♡ Genre: college au/angst/fluff/smut

♡ Summary: Jaehyun has made it a habit of playing with your heart. One day he loves you, the next he hates you, with nothing in between. Growing tired of his games, you find your attention drifting somewhere else. Toward his roommate and frat brother Johnny to be exact.

♡ Word Count: 10k-ish

♡ Warnings: jaehyun's a fuckboy, nct frat is full of fuckboys actually, two couples having sex in the same room (not an orgy), unprotected sex, a lil spanking, partying, kissing, drinking, casual/meaningless sex, sexual fantasies, fingering, heartbreak, pet names (baby), mucho crying, & that's all my loves

♡ A/N: I started this fic months ago but I posted a pretty unfinished version of it because I was just not in the best space so I decided to go back and give my lil fic the love that it deserves. If you've read it before, there's new sections thrown in the mix and it now has an ending. If you've never even knew it existed then I hope you enjoy reading. I'm low key considering making this a series ✨NCT frat boy cinematic universe ✨ I've also gotta thank @anyamaris for always being there to read things for me and @tofethee for being the literal reason that I remembered my lil unfinished fic existed xoxoxo

It was exciting at first.

Weekends at the frat house partying with Jaehyun. No rules. No limitations. Everything a girl could want just waiting to be given to her if she asked. And the sex? The sex was incredible. Jaehyun could be a real asshole sometimes but he always knew how to make you cum so hard your ears were ringing.

You knew from the start that it’d be delusional to think you were anything more to him than a pretty face and a dependable fuck. Jaehyun’s killer bone structure and gorgeous features make him what one might imagine a fairytale prince to be. All the girls on campus dream of being with him and he knows it. He loves it.

That man has an ego bigger than his cock which is unfortunately rather large. There’s so much of himself floating around in his head that there’s just no room for anyone else. Still he has his endearing moments, ones that make a girl feel special, and that’s what keeps you coming back when you begin to think better of tolerating his bullshit.

That’s why you’re here tonight, knees digging into his mattress, cheek pressed to his pillow, as he fucks you from behind. You feel it, the force of his hips snapping against your ass, his cock pulsing deep in your core. But it feels like nothing. It’s like getting a tooth pulled after the dentist has numbed you up real good. The force of the movement is there but the feeling’s gone.

A few feet away another bed creaks as a girl you’ve only met once or twice rides Jaehyun’s frat brother Johnny like one of those mechanical bulls. This isn’t abnormal. During these parties sex happens any time, anywhere, and that almost always includes being in the same room together. But you can’t help feeling like a pervert for stealing a few glances of the adjacent couple.

Jaehyun never formally introduced you to Johnny. Come to think of it, he's never formally introduced you to anyone. It was Johnny who introduced himself one night when you’d had a few too many drinks for your own good and ended up hunched over the toilet with Jaehyun nowhere to be found.

Johnny sat with you for hours making sure you were hydrated and feeding you snacks until he was sure you were okay. You can’t for the life of you remember what was said. You can only recall that you felt comfortable and safe with him. It was enough to make you develop the tiniest crush that’s only been made worse by how sweet he’s been to you since.

Jaehyun slaps your ass, interrupting your train of thought. Almost simultaneously Johnny begins to caress the other girl’s hips. There’s so much tenderness in the way he touches her and you envy it. You wish Jaehyun could give you even a fraction of that. Just once. Pulling the girl in for a kiss, Johnny wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. With her head nestled in the side of his neck, he cradles her gently as he lifts into her at a slow, rhythmic pace.

You imagine that’s you, not being hammered into but actually feeling something, and magically the friction of Jaehyun’s cock rubbing your walls feels good. In fact, far better than it ever has before. You let out a moan, a whisper, “Aah, oh god.” Jaehyun takes notice of it, loving the way you clench too much not to hit that sweet spot again and again. He’s so distracted by the delicious jiggling of your body, his vision curtained by messy dark brown hair, that he can’t see that he isn’t the only one captivated by you.

But you notice. Johnny’s staring back at you now, his eyes glued to yours as he takes in all those pretty faces you make. This isn’t the first time he’s watched you either. He and Jaehyun were roommates long before you came into the picture. Johnny’s seen more than a few girls naked in Jaehyun’s bed but you’re the only one he’s cared to sneak a peek at. The crush you have on him is so mutual. How you never picked up on it he doesn’t know but it’s oh so obvious now.

The longing behind Johnny’s eyes is immense, luring you further into his gaze until he’s all you see. Setting your bodies on autopilot with your respective partners, you begin to quietly explore each other. Your minds indulge in every dirty thought you’ve had about each other. Thoughts you’d suppressed out of fear that you were doing something wrong. You find yourself getting wetter than you’ve been all night, walls dripping twice as much as they hug Jaehyun’s cock.

“Damn, you feel so good, baby” Jaehyun praises, planting kisses down the middle of your back. He shifts to a position he knows will have you trembling and you let out the sexiest moan. So sexy it makes Johnny’s cock twitch inside of the other girl, heat washing over both of your bodies.

“You’re so fucking cute” Johnny whispers in a way that seems to be for the girl in his arms but is meant for you and only you. His face lights up like the 4th of July at every broken moan or arch of your back. You can tell how badly he wishes the pussy warming his cock right now were yours and you get the filthiest rush out of that.

As the pressure inside of you reaches its peak your legs begin to shake, knees threatening to give out from under you. A faint smile creeps across Johnny’s face and he mouths to you, “Cum.” And you do, as if on command. Burying your face in the pillow, you bite down on the fluffy cotton and let it fill your cheeks. It’s a gag of sorts, a desperately needed one incase you should cry out the wrong name on accident.

You know in your heart that even by frat boy standards you’ve crossed a line. You’ve stumbled into territory there’s no coming back from. But when it feels this good it’s difficult to want to turn back anyway.

“You’re overreacting. It’s not like you’re my girlfriend.”

You know this to be true, Jaehyun isn’t your boyfriend, but it hurts all the same to wake up to him texting another girl. Your heart sank when you rolled over this morning, still in his arms, to find him making plans to meet up with her tonight.

It was so blatant, he didn’t even attempt to hide what he was doing, and maybe that’s what hurts most of all. You thought he cared enough about you to at least pretend he wasn’t playing the absolute fuck out of you. It’s clear now that you thought wrong.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” you shout, gathering your things from the floor, the sheet from his bed still draped around your naked body.

A fully dressed Jaehyun casually searches the dresser for his keys, the smile on his face so cocky you want to slap it off. “Right, I’m going to the gym. You know how to see yourself out right?”

Picking up one of your heels, you channel all your strength into throwing it at his head. “I never wanna see you again!”

Jaehyun opens the bedroom door in time to take cover behind it, the heel of your shoe leaving a dent where it would’ve hit him. “Ooh, feisty” he teases, cracking the door to throw you a wink, “Save some of that for next time, hmm?”

There’s so much you want to say but none of it will change anything. He walks away from you like it’s nothing and that’s precisely what you feel like. Nothing. Unable to hold back anymore, you burst into tears where you stand, gathering up some of the sheet to sob quietly into. You can’t recall the last time you cried like this. A chest tightening, nose dripping, lip quivering type of cry that makes you want to double over in pain.

“Hey, come here” a voice whispers, the rasp of sleep still hanging over it.

You feel a tug on the back of the sheet and turn to see Johnny sitting up in bed, one hand rubbing his barely open eyes while the other clings to the sheet around you.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up” you apologize, too embarrassed to make eye contact, “I’ll just get my things and—”

“No, come here” he insists, pulling you closer to his bed, “Come lay with me.”

Something in you says to resist it—you shouldn’t be crawling into bed with Jaehyun’s roommate—but Johnny’s already taking you by the hand, guiding you down into the empty spot beside him. No words are spoken as he pulls the soft blanket over the two of you, tucking it at your side to keep you warm.

His head hits the pillow, heavy lids closing, as he pulls you into his chest. There’s tension at first, on your part only. A hesitance to allow yourself to fully relax into the gentle embrace you’ve been desperately pining for. But the longer he holds you, his palm massaging your lower back in soothing figure eights, the more you soften.

“You don’t deserve this, you know?” he finally says when your tears have subsided and your breathing has evened out enough for you to speak. There’s exhaustion in those words as he says them, giving the impression that this is something he’s wanted to ask you for a long time.

“Is this gonna be a lecture?” you sniffle, nervously patting the tears from the dips between his muscles, “Because I really don’t need a lecture right now.”

Johnny laughs, letting out a yawn, “Nah, it’s too early for a lecture. My brain’s not heated up yet.”

“Not heated up yet? What does that even mean?” you giggle, leaning to look up at him, your nose scrunched in confusion. Johnny opens his eyes, staring back at you with those starry brown orbs, and you’re transported back to the way you felt last night. If you thought his gaze made you want to melt from afar, it’s reducing you to volcanic ash at this distance.

“Well, it’s like, when you first wake up your brain’s cold. Your thoughts are all jumbled so you’ve gotta wait a little, let it heat up” Johnny explains, the tips of his sable hair kissing your face.

“You’re, uh…” you stutter, searching for the perfect word, “Really…interesting? Yeah, you’re interesting, Johnny Suh.”

The most genuine smile takes over that handsome face as he lets out a joyful squeak, sincerely flattered by your comment. “Yeah? Well, so are you. You’re really interesting and cool and cute. I did mean that last night. You are cute.”

You tuck your head, trying to hide a smile of your own, but Johnny caresses your cheek, bringing you right back. “Why do you let him treat you like that?” he asks without the slightest bit of judgment. Your smile fades as you contemplate a question you aren’t even sure you know the answer to. You file through 1001 possibilities before coming to the raw, painful truth.

“I was trying to prove something, I guess” you confess, feeling an odd sense of relief at admitting this to him and yourself. “I thought if I could attain the unattainable it’d be proof that I was special.”

Johnny scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Jaehyun? Unattainable? I could fuck him if I complemented him enough.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better” you huff, beginning to regret that moment of vulnerability.

“No, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that he isn’t one of those people that can appreciate when they have something special.”

You shrug in defeat, letting your fears fall freely from your lips, “Yeah, I don’t know if any guy can at this point.”

“So you think we’re all the same?” he asks, tilting your head to let your lips brush his. His lips are like static, making the little hairs on your arm stand on end. Your heart’s running a marathon and the butterflies in your stomach are throwing fits. This can’t be happening. Only it is.

You swallow hard, inhaling the scent of the fresh morning air meddled with his cologne. “Well, I…I mean no one’s really shown me any different.”

Johnny presses his lips to yours, lingering there for a moment to savor the warmth of your kiss. “Can you give it some time?” he whispers, fingers charting a course across the curve of your hip to take your hand into his.

“It or you, Johnny?” you ask, silently begging him not to say a thing if it’s not something he means.

“Hmm,” he hums, bringing your hand up to gently kiss your inner wrist, your palm, your fingertips, “Me.”

Your phone vibrates in your hand, Jaehyun’s name flashing on the screen.

You’d think it was a bomb by how delicately you’re holding it, careful not to breathe too hard out of fear that it’ll somehow answer the call. It’s the 5th time he’s called today, probably the 9th in the last 24 hours, but you can’t bring yourself to pick up the call. There’s nothing he can say that the dozens of unanswered text messages he’s sent in the last week haven’t already.

He didn’t mean to talk to you that way. The girl he was texting meant nothing to him. He hadn’t even gone to see her that night. He only cares about you. Only wants you. If you just give him the chance he’ll prove it to you. Just pick up the phone. Just let him see you.

“Block him” your best friend AJ whispers, sneaking up behind you.

“Fuck!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. You thought that the walk in fridge at work was the perfect place to hide but you only managed a couple of seconds without being caught.

AJ giggles, hugging you from behind, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, girl. I just saw you sneaking off and you know I had to check on you. I mean it though, you really should block him. He’s never gonna change.”

You let out a long, heavy sigh knowing there’s no way to deny the truth. In the past you’ve made excuses for him. You’ve cried in her arms too many times to count. You can’t justify it anymore. Not to her and not to yourself.

You shove your phone down into the pocket of your apron, your mind set on blocking him as soon as your shift’s over. “You’re right. He can be some other girl’s problem. I’m over it.”

“See, that’s what I like to hear. Now that he’s out of the way, you ready to scope out some new cuties?”

You’re too familiar with the mischievous look on her face. You’ve seen it a million times before and it means trouble every time. “AJ, what are you talking about?”

“Well, these guys just came in looking for you. They asked to be seated in your section and they’re hot, like…” AJ fans herself dramatically, “Hot.”

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be interested, but you both know that you’re faking it. “Which table?”

“That’s my girl!” she cheers, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you out into the chaos of the busy kitchen.

15 seconds. That’s how long you’d known peace. It seems short but that’s an eternity during dinner rush. Sometimes it gets so hectic here that you hardly have time to catch your breath and it’s shaping up to be one of those nights.

“Table 7, off you go” AJ hums, ushering you out into the main dining area.

You turn back to ask her questions. Did they give a name? Did they say what they wanted? Any defining details other than “hot”? But one of her tables is waving her down and she’s already scurrying off to help them. It’s up to you to solve the mystery now and there’s only one way to find out.

Smoothing out your clothes and straightening up your hair, you make your way to table 7 as casually as you can, trying not to seem too eager to greet the patrons that await you.

“I don’t care about food. I need alcohol” one of the guys whines, flipping through the menu in search of the drink section.

“Who fixes a hangover with more alcohol?” his friend laughs, raking his fingers through his long brown hair.

“You can fix a beer hangover with wine. I’m pretty sure.”

“I feel like that’s not true” you say as you approach the table, “Actually, no, that’s definitely not true.”

All conversation halts at the sight of you. AJ was right. They are hot, every single last one of them, but especially the one seated closest to you, his eyes beaming as he stares up at you.

“Hey” Johnny sighs, his voice light and floaty.

You feel your cheeks warm, an unexpected shyness overtaking you, “Hi Johnny.”

“Hi Johnny” the guy next to him teases, tucking his hair behind his ear.

Johnny elbows him in the side, never taking his eyes off of you, “Ignore him. He was dropped on his head as a kid. That’s Jungwoo” He points to the two across from him, “That’s Doyoung. Yuta.”

“Nice to meet you” Doyoung smiles, reaching out to shake your hand, “We’ve heard a lot about you. Johnny won’t shut up about you actually. You know—”

Yuta throws an arm across Doyoung’s shoulder, covering Doyoung's mouth with one hand, “Can we get a couple of waters to start?”

“Uh, sure, no problem. I’ll be right back” you nod, pretending that Doyoung’s little slip up hasn’t left you feeling all fuzzy inside. Johnny talks about you to his friends? Something like that hasn’t happened in so long that you almost forgot what it feels like.

“Wait, one more thing” Johnny says, jumping up to block your way before you can leave.

You giggle at the urgency in his movement. You’d think you were going to war in another country instead of just a few feet away to grab some water. “Sure, what’s up?”

Noticing that he might’ve seemed a bit too excited, Johnny tries to calm down but his cool image is already shattered. He can’t go back. “I just wanted to ask what time you got off work tonight.”

You glance over at the clock hanging from the wall near the entrance, “Hmm, like, another two hours.”

Johnny takes your hand, nervously fidgeting with the delicate silver ring on your finger. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you tonight. Would it be okay if maybe I hung around and waited for you?”

“You’re gonna sit here for two hours and wait for me?”

“Well, yeah, we still have to order our food and I’ll just eat really, really, really, slow,” he says, leaning into you until your lips just barely brush. “Okay?”

You’re at work. He can’t be this close to you. It’s unprofessional. Yet you don’t move an inch out of his way. You can hear your heart beating in your ears, your body so flush with heat that you’re on the verge of begging someone to crack a window in here.

“Yeah, okay” you whisper and he presses his lips to yours, unable to resist his intrusive thoughts. Not even this once.

The kiss is quick. Quick enough that not everyone could see—quick enough not to get you in trouble on the clock—but the tingle that it leaves behind lasts the rest of your shift. It’s enough to make you forget all those missed calls and text messages. You’re floating on a cloud, your head so lost in stolen glances and passing contact with Johnny that your shift’s over before you know it and he’s taking you by the hand, leading you across the street to where his car awaits.

“Have fun you two!” Doyoung calls back as the others split in their own direction.

“And Johnny don’t say anything stupid!” Jungwoo throws in.

“Yeah, don’t do that thing you do where you like a girl and your palms get all sweaty” Yuta teases.

Johnny hurries you into the car before his friends can say anything else but you can still hear them taunting him, even as their voices fade down the street. Hopping into the car Johnny lays his head on the steering wheel, letting out a huff of frustration. “I’m going to kill them. Every single last one of them.”

You reach over to rub his knee, putting on your sexiest voice, “I happen to think sweaty palms are very sexy.”

Johnny turns to look at you, a moment of silence passing before he rewards you with the exact laughter you wanted to shake out of him. “Sexy, huh?”

“Yes, actually” you swear, batting your eyelashes, “I love a man with good…perspiration.”

“So you’re cute and you’re funny” he muses, “Guess I’m doomed.”

“Doomed? To what exactly?”

Johnny shrugs, looking you up and down, giving himself time to take you in. He’s always thought you were gorgeous. Any time you came to the frat house all dolled up he couldn’t take his eyes off of you and even now, dressed in your work clothes with not a drop of makeup on, he can’t think of anything more beautiful. Is it even possible?

Snapping out of it, he clears his throat and sits up straight. “It’s nothing. Forget it. You ready to go?”

Curious but not wanting to press the issue you just snap on your seatbelt and nod, “Mmhmm.”

You’re even cute when you’re taking safety precautions. It’s sickening. He wants to lean over and kiss you again, maybe for a little longer this time, but he knows if he does he’ll never leave this spot so instead he starts the car, fighting to keep his mind on track. Truly a task when he’s next to you.

At first the ride’s quiet. Not awkward. Just quiet. Neither of you knows what to do—how to act. You’ve exchanged a few texts here and there since that morning you crawled into his bed. You’d even seen each other in passing on campus, shared a few brief hugs, but you hadn’t been alone together since. Are you really doing this? What is it that you’re doing anyway? It’s a question that you both want to ask but somehow it seems too soon.

“Only serial killers drive in silence. I need music” you blurt out and Johnny laughs off your comment, happy to finally meet someone as random as he is.

Digging in his pocket, he pulls out his phone and hands it to you. “Here, it’s connected to the car. Play whatever you want.”

Cradling his phone in your palms like a newborn baby, you stare at him in shock as his lock screen awaits a code.

“020995” he says, waiting for you to tap in the digits. When you don’t he repeats it, slower this time, “02…09…95.”

“Huh?”

“The password. To my phone.”

The information hits you on a delay, only adding to your shock. “You’re giving me the password to your phone?”

“Yeah, how else will you use it?” he asks, unsure what exactly has you so confused.

Not wanting to make the moment any more awkward than it already is, you tap the numbers into his phone, navigating his apps until you find the music. The anxiety is nauseating. The last time you looked at a guy’s phone you ended up crying and you never want to feel that way again. But Johnny seems so calm, so totally unbothered by you having his phone, that your worries begin to subside. After all you’ve been through it’s easy to think that every guy has something to hide but maybe, just maybe, this one doesn’t.

Pushing your insecurities to the back of your mind, you settle into your new job as the resident DJ and find yourself having fun—actual fun—for the first time in a long time. It’s enough being in the car with him, jamming out to your favorite songs, sharing stories about concerts you’ve been to, that you aren’t even concerned about the destination. It isn’t until you’re pulling into a spot off the side of a pitch black road that you begin to wonder where exactly he’s taking you.

Johnny hops out of the car first, circling around to the trunk for something. You crack your door open, just enough to get a peek at him. “I know I joked about that whole serial killer thing but—”

“Turn the flashlight on” he instructs, ignoring your second implication of him as a killer.

Flipping on his phone’s flashlight, you shine it in his direction to find him standing there with a blanket. He slams the trunk closed and approaches you, leaning against the back door, “I definitely brought you out here to kill you. Death by a really cozy blanket.”

You slip out of the car, hesitantly scanning your surroundings, “Then what are we out here for, hmm?”

“Just hold the flashlight straight and trust me for a few minutes” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you through what slowly reveals itself to be a park.

There’s trees and benches. A few trails leading in each direction. Wooden signs are painted marking which way to go for camping and where to find the small creek you can hear rushing nearby. You’re grateful to have worn sneakers to work. A pair of heels would've never survived the stone pathway you have to traverse to make it deeper into the woods and closer to wherever he’s taking you.

You remain silent for a few minutes, doing your best to trust the process, and just as you’re about to question this plan of his the hard stone beneath your shoes turns soft and grassy. The trees break open into a small clearing where the moon beams down, brightly illuminating the world below. You gaze up at the sky in awe. You’ve never seen the stars this vividly before. They seem so close that you could touch them.

“It’s so beautiful” you gasp, nearly tripping over the blanket as Johnny begins to lay it out behind you.

“See, told you I wasn’t trying to kill you” he teases, kissing you on the forehead, “I come out here sometimes when I’m feeling overwhelmed. I figured you might be pretty overwhelmed too lately so I thought it might be nice for you.”

Johnny takes a seat on the blanket and you slip down beside him, your eyes still fixed on the stars. “I didn’t know you were the stargazing type.”

“Surprised?” he asks, gently stroking your cheek.

Without a second thought, you lean into his touch, letting yourself enjoy the sensation of his skin against yours. And just like that you can’t be bothered with the stars anymore. He’s all you can see. All you can feel. “I’m surprised by a lot of things when it comes to you.”

“Like what?”

You know that you should be careful with your words but you can’t control what comes out of your mouth next. “Like why you’re doing all of this. Why you even care about me?”

Johnny sits with your question, giving it as long as it needs to truly sink in. “Remember that night you came over and got sick?”

You cringe at the thought of it, “Oh god. Unfortunately, yes. Tell me that has nothing to do with this.”

“You weren’t as bad as you think” he swears, “I’ve seen much worse, trust me. I know you might not remember a lot about that night but you were there for me too. I wasn’t in the best headspace then and I didn’t really wanna go to any of the guys about it then I found you and it was, like, comforting to be with you. Once you stopped throwing up.”

“Johnny, please” you whine, burying your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

Johnny pulls your hands away, trying to hide his laughter, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Messing with you is fun. But seriously, it felt nice being with you and every time I saw you after that I just kept finding things that I liked about you until I couldn’t avoid the fact that I had to have you even if you were his.”

“I was never his. He never owned me” you make it a point to say, “You could’ve had me whenever you wanted me. You only had to say it.”

Tucking his arms around your waist, he brings you onto his lap, your legs resting on either side of him. His hands find their way to your hips, smoothing over your pleated skirt to feel the softness of your bare thighs. Your breath catches at the pad of his thumb gliding over your inner thigh, inching your skirt up.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, letting yourself be drawn into eyes that reflect the moonlight so gorgeously you might as well be staring right at it. “Johnny…” you gasp, feeling his cock harden between your legs.

The friction between his pants and the moistening silk of your panties has you on the verge of moaning. Thumbing your clit through the fabric, he coaxes that moan right out of you just in time for this tongue to invade the space between your lips. Your fingers find his hair, tangling themselves within it as you raise your hips, giving him all the space he needs to tuck your panties aside.

You were so wet the other night, wet enough that he could hear it, but feeling it himself is beyond his wildest dreams. You’re so slick, so soft, like the petals of a flower after fresh rain. Droplets of your arousal coat his fingertips as he pets your entrance, sinking his fingers into you deeper and deeper with every stroke. Your moans dance off of your tongue and right onto his as you rock back and forth in his lap, mindlessly riding his fingers.

“Can I keep you?” he whispers, curling his fingers into your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly, “I’ve wanted you for so long and I…I need you to be all mine.” He stares you dead in the eyes, meaning every word that he says. He wants you and he won’t share you. Not with Jaehyun. Not with anyone.

“You can keep me. I’m yours. I’m—aah” you whimper, your pleasure only heightened by his need, “All yours.”

What are you even saying? What are you doing? Falling onto your back. That’s what. Lying on this blanket with your legs spread and your back arched, watching the night sky twinkle above you as Johnny’s fingers drive into you while you pledge your pussy juice drenched allegiance to him.

Somewhere in the car, buried in your purse, your phone’s vibrating again. Another missed call from Jaehyun. But you’re too far out of his reach in more ways than one. Further than he could ever imagine.

You fight. You cry. You get back together again.

Fight. Cry. Get back together again. That’s the way things have always been between you and Jaehyun. He knows it isn’t healthy but, in his own twisted way, it’s the only way he can trust that you care about him. There’s no justification for it, nothing you did to him in the past that warrants such cruel and unusual punishment.

Jaehyun’s addicted to the rush of getting back together. The desperate, passionate moment when your bodies collide after a week or so apart. Both of you too filled with need to care about what tore you apart in the first place. He can only get that with you, he only wants it with you.

But this time he took it too far, did a bit too much in his attempt to make you jealous, and now you won’t even speak to him. When he knocks on your door your roommate lies and says you aren’t there, refusing to open it more than a crack to shoot him down. Every call goes to voicemail, every text message left undelivered, and on the rare occasion that you run into each other you treat him like a ghost.

Seated on the sectional couch at the heart of his living room, Jaehyun stares into the void of faceless partiers swarming the frat house. The beer cradled between his fingers has the top popped off but he’s barely been touched. The chattering of his frat brothers scattered across the couch might as well be miles away.

A girl in a black mini skirt sneaks up behind him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, “You look sad, baby. Need me to cheer you up?” She licks her lips, planting soft, wet kisses down his neck the way she did a few nights ago when he was in need of some rebound sex that more than failed to satisfy him.

Jaehyun pats her on the arm, shrugging her off, “Thanks but, uh, no thanks.”

“Wait, what?” she frowns, arms folded across her chest, “You’re joking right?”

Scooting closer to Jaehyun, his frat brother Taeyong places a sympathetic hand on hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t think he wants to play with you anymore."

At the other end of the couch their brother Yuta raises his beer, winking at the girl, “But I will. I volunteer!”

“Fuck you, Jaehyun and your asshole friends!” the girl huffs, storming off into the crowd.

“Wait! Are you sure?” Yuta calls out after her, “Don’t you know what they say about Japanese guys with long hair? We’re perverts. The best kind!”

“Did she say fuck her in the asshole?” Doyoung asks, his ears turning red from one too many shots.

“Who’s getting fucked in the asshole?” Mark asks, flopping down beside Yuta on the couch. He’s younger than the other guys, probably shouldn’t be here, but they all have a soft spot for him, especially Yuta, so he gets to stick around.

Yuta pouts, laying his head on Mark’s shoulder, “No one, sadly.”

“Can you guys not be pigs for two seconds? Grow up” Jaehyun snaps, chugging down his beer so fast it makes him dizzy.

“Ooh, someone’s cranky tonight” Taeyong teases, “What’s got you so uptight? You’re usually the worst of us.”

Doyoung pours himself another shot, taking a quick, adorable sip of it. “She blocked him. On everything. Won’t even talk to him. So sad.”

Jaehyun’s tempted to throw the empty bottle at Doyoung’s head and, unlike when you threw your shoe at him, there’s no way he could miss the shot. But Mark swoops in, wedging himself between Jaehyun and Taeyong to provide some comfort. “Aww, man, your girl broke your heart? I’m sorry. Hugs?”

As Mark embraces Jaehyun, Yuta scoffs at the display. “His girl?” Yuta laughs, “Hardly. He fucked her. By that standard mini skirt was his girl too.”

“Oh and her!” Doyoung adds, pointing to the curly haired girl in the corner.

The others pile on, making a game out of spotting girls Jaehyun’s slept with. Jaehyun snatches free of Mark’s hug, refusing to sit through anymore of this. He’s ready to storm off himself but doubles back to clarify something. “She’s not like them, alright? So respect her or I’ll hit you so hard every meal you have until next semester will need to be through a straw.”

Taeyong throws his hands up, leading the others in easing up on Jaehyun. “No problem, bro. We were just fucking with you. We’ll respect her—or whatever”

“Uh, excuse me, am I interrupting something?” you ask, clearing your throat. The sound of your voice makes Jaehyun’s heart skip a beat and when he turns around to find that pretty face staring back at him, his heart all but stops.

“N…no, we were just, wh…what are you doing here?” he stutters, a glimmer of emotion showing through for the first time in a long time. “I thought you hated me.”

You knew this day would come. It’s going on 3 weeks of evading any form of interaction with him but you knew that one day your luck would run out. You’d have to experience this moment. This conversation. The feelings you had for Jaehyun haven’t subsided easily. It stung to accept that he could never feel for you the way you wished he did but it was easier to let go when you had someone soft and loving to land on.

Johnny hasn’t been your rebound, he’s been the furthest thing from it. You adore being with him. He does all the things you ever wanted a guy to do. He’s silly in ways you don’t always get but that’s just a part of his charm. He’s thoughtful and patient, never making you question if he has eyes for any girl other than you. You don’t hate Jaehyun. You don’t even have the time to when Johnny exists.

“Hate you? No but have you—” you begin to whisper, burning under the spotlight of his frat brothers’ gaze. The ones that know already know but it’s clear they haven’t dared to speak up either. “Have you talked to Johnny?”

Jaehyun’s a statue, rendered immobile by his confusion, “Talked to Johnny about what?”

“Baby!” Johnny cheers, popping out of the crowd to sweep you up into his arms, “What are you doing here? I told you I’d come get you.”

“I know but my roommate was headed over here so I thought I’d save you a trip.” You try to clue him in that something’s happening but he’s showering you in so many kisses that you ultimately give into it, giggling like the happiest girl in the world.

“Johnny, people are watching” you finally manage as your feet meet the ground again, Johnny’s arms secure around your waist.

“Baby, I don’t care about people—” Johnny stops himself short, noticing precisely which people you happen to be referring to.

The sadness on Jaehyun’s face tells you that he and Johnny haven’t talked about this. Not once. You catch yourself feeling bad for him, knowing the pain he feels oh too well. It’s the same pain that he dished out to you without remorse or reason and the thought of that turns your empathy into satisfaction. Revenge, bittersweet but successfully acquired all the same.

“Jae, I’m sorry, really” Johnny apologizes, approaching Jaehyun to make peace but peace isn’t of interest and apologies aren’t enough.

Jaehyun barrels past Johnny, nearly knocking him down in the process, “Fuck it, you can keep her. Have fun.”

“Wait! I’m really—” Johnny calls after him, torn between chasing down his friend and staying here with you.

Patting him on the shoulder, you give him a tender peck on the lips, encouraging him to go ahead. “Johnny, I’ll be fine. Just do what you need to do.”

“Are you sure?” If you ask him to stay he will, no questions asked, no second guessing. If chasing after Jaehyun means hurting you he’d never do it in a million years.

You crack a gentle, reassuring smile, “I’m sure. Now get out of here.” You playfully push him on his way and he kisses you on the back of the hand before letting go, rushing off after his friend.

Jaehyun deserves a bit of pain for all he’s done to you but in both of their absences it sets in that maybe he isn’t the only one being hurt in all of this. Imagining how hurt Johnny would be at losing a friend, you feel the sudden weight of guilt the likes of none you’ve ever had to bear. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Especially not here in front of everyone.

“Aaah, a good old fashioned love triangle. The tragedy! The heartbreak!” Mark says, head thrown back dramatically.

Taeyong tosses a pillow at Mark, shushing the younger man. Mark catches it, cuddling it in his arms like a plushie. “What? I like love stories. I wonder, how’s it gonna end?”

Yuta grins at you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table, “Yeah, cutie, you’re the one they're gonna kill each other over. You tell us, how’s it gonna end?”

Wiping your increasingly sweaty palms on your dress, you feel the spotlight on you growing brighter and you can’t stomach it. You take off out into the night, navigating the minefield of passed out partiers to get across the front lawn. Yuta’s words echo in your mind, “You tell us, how’s it gonna end?” Like you have all the power. Like you’re the only one responsible for any of this. How’s it gonna end? You have no clue but you wish that the ending, however bad or good, would come already.

It’s not fair.

You should be at a movie theater right now cuddled up beside Johnny eating overpriced snacks. Instead you’re standing in the frozen section of a fluorescent lit gas station contemplating which freezer burnt pint of ice cream you’ll drown your sorrows in tonight. The adult thing to do would be to go back to the party and face this problem straight on. Or you could demolish the snacks piled into your arms and drown your issues.

“The second one, for sure” you decide, fumbling with the freezer door handle to retrieve your ice cream of choice.

“Is there another party going on that I don’t know about?” Jaehyun asks, watching you from the end of the aisle. You groan, abandoning your ice cream mission to get as far away from him as possible. He steps in front of you, blocking your path, “I’m not stalking you. I promise. I just needed some air and I—anyway, let me help you.”

Jaehyun skips over to the ice cream, popping the freezer door open. He pokes out his lip, eyebrows furrowed in as he scans the options. “There we go” he grins, plucking your favorite ice cream from the shelf on the first try. You’ve never explicitly told him which one it was and you try not to be impressed by the fact that he cared to take note of it.

“Come on, I’ll pay for it” he insists, leading the way to the register. It takes him a few steps to realize that you haven’t followed and he spins around on his heels to find you staring at him in disgust. “What I meant to say was, may I pay for your things, my queen?” A group of passing girls giggle as he bows to you with all the elegance of a man who’s in the presence of royalty.

“Cut it out. You’re embarrassing me” you whine and he responds with a twirl that brings him closer to you, the already defrosting ice cream jumping from hand to hand.

“Aah but I just want the queen to be happy and I do hear this is her favorite.”

“Oh, I’m a queen now? And what does that make you? My royal court jester?”

Jaehyun stares into your eyes, his expression turning severe, “If that’s what you want me to be.”

“It’s a little too late to be what I wanted you to be, isn’t it?” you shoot back, your voice trembling more than you’d like it to.

“I don’t know, is it?” He asks you the question like his whole life depends on your answer.

He’s always been the one who had the upper hand, standing over you, his whimpering prey, with a knife to your throat that could end you at any time. It’s strange to be on the other end of it now but, unlike him, you’re prone to taking mercy on poor, wounded little animals. While you may not have it in you to strike the killing blow, you’re content to let him lie here and bleed out.

“You know what? Suddenly I've lost my appetite” you say, emptying your snacks into his arms, “I’m sure there’s enough girls in your phone to share that with.”

This isn’t some melodramatic exit where you walk away expecting him to follow you. Running into him in the first place wasn’t the plan. Yet you’re barely out of the gas station parking lot when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand on end and you just know he’s trailing behind you.

“Will you at least let me take you home? You shouldn’t be walking alone. There could be psychopaths out here!”

You pick up speed repeating to yourself, “Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t—”

“I love you!” Jaehyun shouts for the entire block to hear. It’s his voice but those can’t be his words. Fueled by rage, you ignore your own advice and turn to confront him.

“Take it back!” you demand, refusing to accept his profession of love. Of all the things he’s ever done to manipulate you this has to be the lowest he’s gone.

“No, if I mean it then why should I?”

“Because you’re lying! You’re a liar! It’s what you do. It’s what you always do!” you scream, the anger you’ve held in for months overflowing.

“Okay, I am a liar. A liar and a piece of shit who couldn’t commit to you cause I was too afraid of getting hurt so I hurt you first” he admits, “And that’s not for you to fix. Maybe I need fucking therapy, I don’t know, but I do love you.”

“That’s not enough!”

Jaehyun sees you motion to leave again and grabs your wrists, locking them at your sides. “Then tell me what’s enough and I’ll do it. It can’t be too late for us. I’m falling apart without you.”

Tears run hot down your cheeks and he cradles your face, kissing them away. It feels nicer than you want it to, more calming than repulsive. You were out, done with him forever, and look at you now, standing under the streetlights melting into the palms of his hands. But this time is different from the others and far more dangerous because for once the liar isn’t lying. He loves you and it means it. Why the fuck does he have to mean it?

“I know this is a lot right now and you don’t have to decide. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me drive you home. Let me take care of you. Please?”

A tragic side effect of being around Jaehyun is the way that you magically find yourself right where he wants you. You know better than to accept his offer. You shouldn’t be anywhere near this man, let alone in his car, but you blink and you’re in the passenger’s seat, his hand on your thigh as he navigates the familiar streets leading back to your dorm.

Snapping back to your senses, you push his hand away, refusing to so much as look at him as you stare out of the window losing yourself in the glow of the street lights. Even when he pulls up to your dorm, you storm off to your room without a word, praying that he’ll just go away.

If you don’t talk to him he can’t say things that mess with your head. If you don’t look at him he can’t pull you in with those eyes…with that gorgeous fucking face. Navigating the halls of your building, you tell yourself not to look back. Just make it to your room and this night will all be over. You’ll be on the other side of that door and you can pretend that this never happened.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you finally push the door open, flinging yourself into the safety of your room only for your moment of peace to be shattered in an instant by the sound of footsteps following closely behind you.

“I didn’t say you could come in” you snap, stopping Jaehyun before he gets ahead of himself.

“I just wanted to say hi to my son. I haven’t seen him in weeks” he pouts, hands clasped together, begging for mercy. “Have a heart.”

“Whatever” you groan, too exhausted to argue any more than you already have, “You’ve got one minute then you need to leave.”

Jaehyun gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, slipping past you to get inside. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Slamming the door behind him, you kick your shoes off, counting down the seconds in your head. When you said a minute you meant it. 60 seconds exactly. Paying you no mind, Jaehyun heads straight for the fish tank in the corner of the room where a single, golden fish swims around a tank decorated with coral reefs and shiny glowing pebbles.

He taps at the glass, making kissy faces at the fish inside. “Sup, Mister Bubbles? Long time no see. I missed you.”

It’s sickening and unfortunately adorable how attached Jaehyun is to that little fish. He won him for you at a carnival when you first started dating. You chose to name him Bubbles because of those tiny bubbles he kept blowing on the ride home. Jaehyun had insisted upon adding the “Mister” to make it more official and you let him have his way.

Jaehyun picks up the container of fish food tucked beside the tank. A special exotic blend he purchased at some upscale pet store. “You got the child support I sent, I see.”

You giggle despite yourself, throwing in a fake cough to cover it up, but it’s too late for you.

“I think I just made your mom smile” he whispers to Mister Bubbles.

“No, I just had something in my throat” you snap, “Anyway, your minute’s up. Get out.”

“Strict woman” he sighs, sparing one last incredibly dramatic glance at his legless son. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah?” Mister Bubbles blows a few bubbles which Jaehyun takes as a ‘yes’ so he turns to you next. “And you’ll let me know if you need anything too?”

Joining him by the fish tank, you snatch the food from him, returning it to its rightful place. “We’re good.”

He watches you for a moment, picking apart your expression, your body language. All the things he knows how to read so well when it comes to you. “If you aren’t good, promise you’ll tell me? If he isn’t good to you—”

He reaches out to bring you closer and much to your frustration you don’t pull away. You don’t even flinch. Instead you’re overcome by the same feeling that left you speechless in the parking lot. Your body seems to vibrate where he touches it, longing for more. It…misses him? You miss him?

“Please don’t do this to me” you beg, close enough now that every breath makes your chests meet. “You can just let it go. You can just leave.”

You say that like it’s so easy. Jaehyun’s never been able to do that when it comes to you. That’s what always scared him so much about his feelings for you. No girl has ever had a hold on him this way. He could throw anyone away, replace them like it was nothing, but not you. You’ve always been irreplaceable and the dumbest thing he’s ever done is let you go. He won’t make that mistake again.

“You’ve always had the cutest cheeks, you know that?” Jaehyun sighs, cupping your cheeks. He leans in closer to get a better look, his gaze dancing across your features, “Your nose too and your lips.”

His thumb traces the bow of your upper lip and you shiver at the contact. The nearer his lips are to yours, the faster your pulse races, your own body betraying you when you need it most. The chance to stop him passes, the quickest millisecond of your life, and he’s kissing you like it’s the last time he ever will. And maybe it is. Maybe he’ll never get to taste the sweetness of your lips again and all he’ll have left of you is what lingers behind but, if that’s really what this is, he can’t let this go to waste.

When he finally breaks from the kiss you’re left breathless, trying to make sense of the mess of emotions swarming your heart.

“All I ever wanted was for someone to love me” you say, your voice ripe with pain.

Jaehyun can see the damage he’s done to you, it’s written all over your face, and it breaks him in ways he never knew it could. “And you deserve to be loved. I hate myself for ever making you believe that you didn’t but if you give me the chance to fix this I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know how special you are.”

You must admit he has a talent for it. He knows how to string words together and make them sound so pretty a girl could forgive all the tears, all the shouting matches, all the numbers in his phone. But you aren’t so sure you’re that girl anymore.

“Baby! Are you there?” Johnny shouts, knocking at your door.

Your blood runs cold at the reality of your situation. Johnny’s out there probably worried sick over you having disappeared from the party and here you are in the arms of the man you were supposed to leave behind.

“I can answer it” Jaehyun offers, Johnny’s sudden appearance clearly triggering something within him. He takes a step back, heading for the door, but you jump in front of him, pushing him back with enough force to nearly knock him over.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

In your anger you speak louder than you should’ve, throwing your hands over your mouth at the realization. Any movement out in the hall pauses and you stand still, wishing to gain the power of invisibility just this once. Slowly the knob turns, the door inching open to shine the light of the hall over the shadows of your room. You don’t want to turn around but you have to. Johnny’s standing there, you can feel it, and you can’t just leave him like that. He wouldn’t do it to you.

Facing him is like a knife through your stomach. You want to drop to your knees and cry. You’ve only ever seen Johnny laugh and smile. All he’s ever done when he glanced in your direction was bubble with joy but “joy” is nowhere near what he watches you with now.

“Johnny…” You reach out to touch him but he pulls back. He’s not in the mood to be touched by you right now and it wouldn’t be fair to blame him.

“I was coming to check on you to see if you were okay but…” he glances behind you at the space where Jaehyun waits, far too close to you for comfort, “Looks like you’re all good in here, huh?”

“It’s not like that.”

“No? Then what’s it like? You’re too busy to answer my calls but not too busy to be here with him. What’s that like?”

“I get it, you’re pissed, but I can’t let you talk to her like that” Jaehyun says, irritated by Johnny’s tone of voice.

Johnny laughs, taking a few steps towards Jaehyun, “Let me? You can’t let me do anything. Everyone else might be afraid of you but I’m not. You can’t beat me. We both know that.”

Jaehyun shrugs, unbothered by the threat, “Why don’t we find out?”

“Shut up! You aren’t helping!” you shout, throwing him an icy glare, “No one’s fighting! We just need to calm down! Everyone calm down!”

“You’re the one that’s yelling right now, baby” he whispers and you swear you could choke the life out of him.

The sound of Jaehyun calling you baby is enough for Johnny. If he stays any longer he doesn’t know what he’ll do and he doesn’t want to find out. “I hope you two are happy together.”

Jaehyun leans back against your dresser, content to watch Johnny walk out that door. Only you aren’t. You run behind Johnny, throwing your arms around him before he can leave.

“Johnny, don’t leave” you weep, painting the back of his jacket with tears. You hold him so tightly that your arms dig into his stomach and he can barely breathe. “I mean it, it’s not like that. I don’t want him. I want you.”

You can’t see the shock on Jaehyun’s face but it’s in his voice loud and clear. “You what?”

Johnny grabs your arms, gently prying them away, “Doesn’t seem like he knows that.”

“I want to be with Johnny” you say to Jaehyun without hesitation.

“What do you mean? After everything we talked about? After everything we’ve been through? I told you that I loved you. I love you!”

He keeps using that word—love—but you aren’t even sure he knows what it means. In fact, you’re positive there’s no way he ever did. Your heart broke to see Johnny hurt because of you. You instinctively want to protect him—to do anything in your power to make it right because that’s what you do when you love someone. You choose them because the risk of losing them is too unbearable.

“In all the time we were together you never let me have anything, Jaehyun. Just let me have this one.”

Jaehyun wants to ask if that’s really what you want but you’re clinging to Johnny’s hand with such desperation that he knows it’d be a waste of breath to ask. You want one thing, just one, and it isn’t him.

It’s strange to see him leave. You’re so used to regret pooling in the pit of your stomach each time he walks out of your life that the absence of it is odd but you don’t miss it. It’s freeing and the feeling that takes its place—the longing to be with someone new—is infinitely sweeter. Still, this is no time to celebrate. Even in Jaehyun’s absence, Johnny’s back remains turned to you, his body language cold and tense.

“Johnny” you whisper, tip-toeing around him, “Say something.” You search his eyes for any sign of warmth for you but it’s like he’s hiding it, too afraid to let it show.

“Do you love him?” he asks plainly, “Please don’t lie to me. I just…I can’t do this if you still love him.”

You think back to when Jaehyun kissed you. It stirred up so many feelings inside of you and every single one of them was for Johnny. “I love someone but it isn’t him.”

Johnny’s cheeks redden, the warmth you were in search of returning little by little. “Wh-what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you, Johnny Suh. If that’s okay with you” you smile, petting his cheek.

“I mean, yeah, it’s more than okay. I lo—”

“Ssh” you say, placing a finger over his lips, “You don’t have to say it back. Not until you’re ready. I just wanted you to know.”

Johnny swats your hand away, pulling you into him, “I love you too. If that’s okay with you.”

You just smile, a fluttery sensation invading your body, “Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s perfect.”

Johnny backs you up against the door, locking it tightly as it slams shut behind you. He lulls you into a slow, passionate kiss that slips every broken piece of you quietly back into place.

There’s no confusion. No fear. No wrongs that need forgiving. All you ever wanted was someone to truly love you and now you’ll never have to doubt that you’ve found someone who does.

#nct x reader #nct x you #nct 127 x reader #jaehyun x reader #johnny suh x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #johnny suh smut #johnny suh angst #johnny suh fluff #nct angst #jaehyun x you #johnny suh x you #nct smut #nct 127 x you #nct 127 angst #nct 127 au #chubby reader #plus size reader

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fireinmoonshot · 9 hours ago

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Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Summary: Joaquín notices everything – even when you get a small hair cut. Warnings: It's mentioned that reader has hair long enough to braid. Word Count: 838 A/N: Just another smaller drabble tonight – inspired by me getting my hair cut this week (and dyed, but I figured it was a little too specific to have the reader dye their hair blue like mine) 😅 This was so sweet to write though, so please enjoy 💗

Over the course of your relationship with Joaquin, you’ve heard many stories from your friends about how their boyfriends never notice when they get their hair done or get a hair cut. You, on the other hand, happen to be dating one of the most observant men on the planet.

It’s no secret that Joaquin is easily distracted. If it were anyone else, Joaquin wouldn’t even blink twice. He remembers one time that he worked alongside someone for a whole month before noticing that they’d shaved their head. But with you it’s different. With you, he notices everything – even the smallest things.

Which is why, when you come home from the hair salon with a small trim, Joaquin notices. You hadn’t had time to tell him when you’d rushed out of the house earlier that day – you’d overslept and had been rushing to make it there on time. Joaquin had still been fast asleep and had woken up to a text from you saying you had an appointment and you’d be back a little later.

He’s sitting on the couch playing a video game when you walk in the front door. The second he hears your keys in the front door he presses pause and stands up so he can greet you. It’s the first time he’s seen you all day and he’s missed you.

“Ah, mi corazón, you’re home,” he hums, walking over to pull you into a hug. He’s two steps away from you when he notices your hair. He reaches out, touching the ends of it. “You got your hair cut?”

You look at him, a little surprised. “I only got a trim, baby. How could you even tell?”

Joaquin shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know, I could just see that it was shorter.” He wraps his arms around you, then, pulling you into his chest in a hug like he’d planned on doing before he’d noticed your haircut. “I’m a very observant guy. It looks good.”

You smile into his chest. “That, you are, and thank you. Were you playing a game?” You could see the paused screen on the TV as you walked into the room. Joaquin is probably one of the only men alive who would willingly pause their video game to hug their partner to welcome them home after being apart for a couple of hours. You have never once had to beg Joaquin to turn off his games or pull him away from the screen to get him to do things around the house.

“I was, yeah,” Joaquin nods, pulling away from the hug. “You wanna come and watch me play for a bit? Or I can turn on a movie or the next episode of our show.” Joaquin is probably also one of the only boyfriends who never watches the show that you watch together when he’s alone. It’s your thing as a couple, even if he gets invested and gets annoyed that he has to wait for the next episode until you both have free time.

You wrap an arm around his waist. “Can we watch a movie?”

Joaquin agrees, leading you over to the couch and sitting down beside you. You curl up against his side, draping an arm across his chest and resting your head on his shoulder as he turns off the game and opens up Netflix to find something to watch. With his free hand that isn’t holding the TV remote, he reaches up and starts to play with your hair. He twists some of it around his fingers, then just runs his fingers through it a few times.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a little confused. Joaquin is not the type of person to keep his hands to himself, but he’s never been known to play with your hair before. Not in situations like this, anyway.

He glances over at you. “Your hair is at the perfect length now for me to play with it when we’re sitting like this,” he says simply. “Also, I was thinking – maybe I should learn to braid. I could help you do your hair sometimes when we go out, and if we have kids it means you won’t have to do their hair all the time and I can be the cool dad who braids his kids hair.”

You don’t think it’s actually possible for you to love Joaquin more than you already do.

“You wanna learn how to braid?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs a shoulder – the one you’re not leaning on. “I’ve actually already been watching some Youtube videos on it but it’s hard to learn when I don’t have someone to practice on.”

You sit up, taking Joaquin off guard. He looks at you, a little concerned. “We’re gonna watch a movie another night, baby,” you decide, turning around so your back is to him. “Tonight, you’re gonna practice braiding hair.”

Joaquin is suddenly excited. He sits up a little straighter, eyes wide. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” you chuckle. “Show me what you’ve been learning.”

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america brave new world

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respectthepetty · 2 days ago

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Secret Relationships Colors

There is a lot of black in this show since everyone is holding onto secrets, so when the posters for this show were initially released, I questioned why they were PowerPuff Girls' colors, but as the show's twists and turns have been revealed, it all started to make pefect sense.

Blue - Seong Hyeon

Seong Hyeon is a loyal and intelligent man which are key traits of a Blue Boy.

The first time he rescued Daon, he was wearing blue, and he was brought to the team because he was a superstar in his previous department.

He is honest about his feelings and constantly makes sure that Daon knows how he feels even if he isn't physically there.

However, Blue Boys are prone to sadness as well, but they tend to bounce back with a little push from the right people.

And what's strange is Su Hyeon could've been a Blue Boy too, especially because their romanized names look so similar.

So just like Seong Hyeon, Su Hyeon could've been just as loyal to Daon in his blue.

But there is always something lingering around him, something boiling underneath the surface, something festering just beneath his casual exterior.

And when it's finally unleashed, it becomes a vicious monster.

Green - Su Hyeon

Green Guys, when at their best, are chill and peaceful, but at their worst, they are easily prone to jealously, they are envious, and they are rotten to the core.

Su Hyeon can act the part of a chill guy, but the moment he is provoked, the beast inside comes out just like when he was at the dinner and saw the man who assaulted Daon.

Or like when he dragged Daon inside his apartment and told him to never look at Seong Hyeon like that again.

And although I believed Su Hyeon didn't turn green until the night of the assault when he used the green bottle to attack the man in the green room, it actually started before then.

The gift Daon got Su Hyeon was green, so he must have known some small aspect of Su Hyeon's true color, right?

And he also had Su Hyeon in his phone under a green-colored contact card.

Which is ironic since Su Hyeon also has someone in his phone who lights up his screen in a decaying green color.

After all, he learned how to turn into a green monster from his father.

But the real monster in this story is the sneaky devil Su Hyeon made a deal with all those years ago.

Pink - Jaemin

Pink People are normally compassionate and friendly, but when they don't get their way, they can become overemotional and childish.

Much like Su Hyeon, Jaemin hides his true color well, but it's always been there, slowly suffocating him around his neck every time he felt his grip on Daon slipping.

And just like Su Hyeon, Daon was aware in some small way of Jaemin's true color because not only did Jaemin offer him pink coffee cups when they met in the first episode and pink plates to eat off of at his apartment, but just like Su Hyeon, Daon wanted to gift Jaemin the perfect color-coded gift.

The worst part of all of this is Jaemin really does love Daon, but pink is simply a tint of red, and we all know what Red Rascals are capable of when they lose control.

And perhaps Jaemin knows he has already lost because no matter how tight-lipped Daon may be, he always gives away who has his heart through his color, and I'm not referring to the color-coded gifts.

Daon

Daon wore a green jacket when he liked Su Hyeon, and Su Hyeon now wants to give him his ring. Daon has lived in an apartment with a pink exterior since he has become closer to Jaemin over the past seven years, and Jaemin gives him a scarf to wear. But now there is a new (blue) boy in town who wipes Daon's face with a blue cloth and reminds Daon of himself.

And not only did that Blue Boy color-coordinate outfits with Daon for work, but he came prepared to love Daon.

In all the exact ways he needs.

So let's see if Daon gives his Blue Boy the perfect color-coded gift or will this love allow Daon to finally embrace his own color instead of conforming to what everyone else wants (which I think it yellow since Jaemin has a yellow pillow, Daon was lit by yellow when Su Hyeon rescued him, and he has warm lighting when wearing blue plus countless other instances!).

But either way, I'll be delighted.

#secret relationships #secret relationships the series #color coded boys in love #the colors mean things #it hit me like a pan to the head in episode six #and I had to sit there all day to wait to write this #but once again this thirty image limit is hindering my ability to convey all my points #there are so many blues and greens but I have a picture limit!#I think Daon is yellow but I'll wait until the finale to share that if I'm right #if I'm wrong then this never happened

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gothghostiie · 7 hours ago

Text

I'm babysitting so yall know what time it is

cw: stressed price, babysitter!reader, domestic stuff, gn!reader

you haven't even opened your eyes this morning when your doorbell began to ring. in fact, you feel like it never rang louder in your entire dang life. and never more frequently. you groan in annoyance as you heave yourself out of your bed, eyes small with sleep as you unlock the door, just wide enough to poke your head out and yell at whoever wakes you up at such an ungodly time - at least that's what you want to do, until you see who it is.

no one other than a very stressed looking John, baby on his arm, looking excited to see you. you look at them, confused, rubbing your eyes to try and wake up properly. before you can even process.. anything, he's already speaking.

"Love. 'm so sorry, didn't mean to wake ya.." he mutters, an edge in his voice. " 'm sorry, it's an emergency, I don't have anyone to watch the kid, I-" he sounds like he might cry - or possibly scream in frustration, so you cut him off, taking the baby that's already making grabby hands at you into your arms.

"Mr. Price, it's fine. Don't worry." you say softly but firmly, trying to reassure him despite being barely comprehensible. you yawn and snuggle the fat baby against you, he sighs in relief, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing.

"You're an angel." he says, taking a deep breath. "Get dressed and I'll drive you to my place, yea?" he says softly, you nod. the baby goes back to price with some mild fussing, letting you go to get dressed, quickly brush your teeth and look halfway presentable - which means a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt with some jacket thrown on top. You come back outside with a small bag, price already has the little one buckled in, holding the passenger door open for you. you smile and climb in, he gives you a tired smile before shutting your door and getting in himself. the drive is filled with him telling you how sweet you are, thanking you and telling you how lucky he is to have you. he only stops when he parks, looking a bit uncomfortable again. "Key is under the mat, let yourself in love.. and.. I'm sorry for the mess. it's been a hard week." he admits, you just smile and nod, telling him it's okay. you climb out of the car, unbuckling the baby out of the backseat, waving at john as he drives off again.

with the litlte one on your hip you go inside - price wasn't lying, the house is a mess - taking off your shoes and slipping into the slippers he got for you a while ago. you take a look around, humming to yourself as you put the baby in the playpen, letting it happily coo at its favourite blocks and the countless stuffies John bought for it, while you got to work around the house. clothes into the washing machine, trash collected, even vacuuming goes easy with the baby laughing every time the vacuuming makes a funny noise. by the time you're done with the living room it's already lunch time, followed closely by nap time - as much as you'd love to lie on the couch with the little munchkin again, you wanna keep cleaning. with the baby in bed it goes by even quicker, soon enough the kitchen is done and the first load of laundry is hung up to dry, the baby awake again and happily cooing on your arm while you clean it's room up a bit. you even go to his bedroom to clean up, put fresh sheets on the king-size bed, vacuum and mop while the baby jumps around on the bed. you do the last bit of laundry (and think about stealing one of his worn shirts, because christ he smells so heavenly), and then go to clean the bathroom too, organising his few products a litlte; making a mental note to gift him some more too - then it's already time to start dinner.

baby sits on the counter, fat legs dangling as you cook some simple pasta, of course trying everything. after it's been approved by your little chef you sit down and have dinner, then get the little one ready for bed already. in fresh pyjamas you cuddle on the couch for a little before putting it to bed with a bottle, just in time to hang up the last load on laundry. you hum to yourself, tv on with John's show that you got weirdly invested in by now, hanging up the wet clothes - when finally the door opens. you can't help but smile to yourself as you hear the heavy steps on the creaking floor board that he always tries (and fails) to avoid, followed by the familiar groan when he stretches after a long day. there's a pause as before the steps continue, this time with slippers instead of his usual street shoes, slowly coming into the living room to find you there, still hanging up laundry. you look over and smile at him, a soft 'hi mr. price!' coming from you as he takes in the clean home.

"bird.." he hums softly, stepping closer. "you cleaned." his tone is almost cautious, as if he's afraid to dirty the space again by merely speaking. "You didn't have to.." he sounds sheepish, almost embarrassed, but you just smile.

"no worries." is all you say, he stares at your form in awe. "dinner's in the microwave, just gotta heat it up. and our show's still on, join me?" john swears his heart stumbled right then and there.

"will do.." he goes to walk past you but stops behind you - before you can speak up again you can feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, your back pressed up agaisnt his tummy and chest; his head resting on your shoulder. you freeze as he holds you like this for a moment, before whispering against your neck. "thank you, darling."

he leaves you standing there as he goes into the kitchen, skin still warm from his touch, tingling where you felt his hot breath, still frozen in place as a heatwave creeps up your whole body. and for the first time you really dont want to go home tonight.

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writingjourney · 23 hours ago

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keys // frater imperator// f!reader/non-descript f!oc // 500 words

His body feels leaden, like he’s aged ten years in the span of a day. Copia drags himself along the corridor, his new keys jangling with every step. He’s not sure what weighs heavier, the responsibility that comes with them or the loss that still haunts him around every corner. He’d almost prefer if none of them fit, if he could just step back outside, don his sparkling jacket and get back on stage.

The metal has warmed between his gloved fingers and yet he can’t shake the sense of cold that permeates him ever since he picked them up off the floor. They fit into the hole, turn just like they’re supposed to. Then he hears the steps behind him.

“Copia.”

At the sound of her voice his heart shatters and puts itself together all at once. She approaches cautiously, that look on her face he’s been dreading. Commiseration. Well, he is not Papa any longer. He has no good excuse to avoid her.

“Sorella,” he says.

Her brow furrows. “Are we back to formalities, now?”

He aches all over. For her, for his Papacy, for his mother, despite her flaws, for his life to go back to the way it was. Hovering between colleagues, friends, lovers. Some emotion he never dared to name. They’re close, he can’t deny it, and yet he always used the Papacy to keep her at arm’s length, lest he had to confront all the ways in which he’d fail her.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers.

Her hand hovers, slightly raised, like she’s not sure whether she’s allowed to reach out or not. They’ve touched before, many times, mostly innocently, or perhaps not so innocently when he thinks about those quiet nights alone in his room. He’d almost kissed her just before he left for tour, the very thought of a long separation more than he was willing to bear, but then he’d chickened out, kissed her cheek instead. What good would it have done? He was gone for months.

“I have missed you too,” he admits, thinking about the key in the lock. He wonders, then, what other doors it might open.

She touches his arm, at last, and he can’t even feel it through the thick fabric of his new suit jacket. Fuck this, he thinks, fuck all of it. But then she steps closer and he can feel the pull, the whole world tightening around them. He caves, grabs her by the hips and pulls her into a hug. It’s crushing, he knows this, she winces a little before she returns the embrace, soft arms, gentle arms. Always so gentle for him.

“Amore,” he says. It is the only fitting name. Of course he does not want to go back to formalities.

“Copia–” Her voice trails off as she understands. He thinks he hears the tears in her next breath.

It is a brave step, to change the nature of such a secure thing. He’s never had time, that’s what he tells himself. Not the time she deserves anyway. But now–

Perhaps now.

Yes, he can turn the key on that door as well.

short fic collection // masterlist

#frater imperator x reader #frater imperator x oc #copia x reader #copia x oc #the band ghost fanfiction #copia fanfiction #short fic collection

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thydungeongal · 3 days ago

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hi, hope this is a no-brainer for you, so it won't clog up the asks as much: what are MC-moves and fronts doing in PbtA-games?

I've been looking into a few, cause I'm curious about that operation on several levels you talked about, but something about the MC moves just doesn't seem to click, while I understand the players' just fine. they read to me as an abstract "do whatever"-sort of thing, while very insistent that you do them, and some idea behind it all that I can't fully grasp. the game seems to want the world to move in certain ways, for certain outcomes to emerge, but also indifferent as to which ones, and I'm not sure what to do with that... I can have the landscape Disgorge Something, or Announce Badness, but what then?

did you encounter similar struggles before or know what the games are being opinionated about there? It feels like the answer should be obvious but I keep missing it, and like my issue somehow relates to the system's scalability. hope you can help!

So, this might be stating the obvious, but the key thing to understanding the MC Moves is that PbtA games have asymmetric mechanics. Players and the MC use different sets of mechanics to interface with the fiction, and this has to do with the game being structured as a back and forth between the players and the MC but also with the MC having control of more things, so the game has simplified mechanics for the MC. This stands in contrast to most traditional RPGs where the same set of mechanics formally applies to every character, whether PC or NPC, in the fiction.

In D&D when the GM announces that Goblin Steve (an NPC) is attacking Gonad the Barbarian, that's simply an announcement of an attack roll being invoked, and that mechanic is utilized by Goblin Steve identically to how Gonad the Barbarian would use it. In PbtA the MC announcing that Goblin Steve is attacking Gonad the Barbarian would be them making a move (Announce Future Badness, Goblin Steve's attack), and according to their principles they would then turn to the player and address Gonad with a "what do you do?"

That's an example of a "soft" move, a division that doesn't exist formally in most PbtA games, and that is how MC Moves work normally: the MC is always making Moves but never actually saying their name (in the above example the MC simply described Goblin Steve attacking Gonad in the fiction, they didn't say "I am Announcing Future Badness!") and most Moves will simply throw the spotlight on the character and prompt them to react. However, the MC is always at liberty to make a move that follows, and if the only move that follows from a character's action is "Make them Eat Shit and Die" then that's the only move the MC can make. Usually that move would probably only happen when a player rolled a 6- on a move, because that is one of the specific circumstances where the game asks the MC to make the hardest move they can.

In terms of the fiction and the mechanics, in D&D Goblin Steve is a medium through which the GM can make attack rolls at the player characters (using the same set of mechanics as the players); in PbtA Goblin Steve is a medium through which the MC can make their MC Moves (using their own set of mechanics).

Anyway so that's a really top down view of the structure, but MC Moves are really important to understanding what kind of things the game you're playing cares about, and a good, thoughtful set of MC Moves is as important to a PbtA game as a good set of basic moves and playbooks. They are effectively a checklist for the MC to the effect of "this is the sort of stuff that should be happening to the PCs in this game."

Apocalypse World has a really good example in it: it has an MC Move called "Make them buy it." Apocalypse World is a game about scarcity and Barter as a resource is not something characters can count on to be able to top off all the time. The game is telling you that if a character needs something, they should never just have it at hand, but they should have to purchase it. Can't afford it? Tough luck. What do you do?

Similarly, Dungeon World is a dungeon game, so of course it cares about resource attrition. This is why it has "Use up their resources" as a move.

Fronts are a bit more complicated a topic but to understand them you need to understand that PbtA games are insistent on the MC being as much a member of the audience to the story unraveling in front of them and not a singular person telling the story to everyone else, and as such it wants the MC to take part in keeping the story feral and unpredictable. Fronts are one of the few prep tools the game offers, with the point of them being that they are effectively a toolkit for the MC to draw badness from so that when making moves they will still be drawing them from somewhere.

They are a prep tool but a minimalist one for the sake of making sure the MC doesn't overprep and put the story on a set of rails: they have multiple ones to remind them that even if the characters might be singularly focused on a specific danger, there are others waiting in the wings.

Fronts and dangers are usually supposed to be established based on the first session: if the first session involved a gang of raiders, then the game is basically nudging you to say "hey remember those raiders? Wouldn't it be cool if they were, like, a part of your ensemble? So then when you use them again the players will be like holy shit, it's those raiders again!"

In some ways they are a tool for the MC to limit the focus of the story on those things that have turned out to matter for the player characters during the first session, to keep the cast relatively small. And they're a very effective tool for making sure that while the specific events of the story are still unpredictable, the cast at least stays within reasonable bounds.

Or you know that's how I see them. Anyway I hope that helped at all.

#thydungeongal answers

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 day ago

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@zepskies

Thank you Alex!! This one was so much fun to write for Russell 🥰 Thank you for giving me an excuse to write about the green-eyed potato target 🤣

LMAO starting strong with the Dean easter egg. 😆 Fun fact: I have a keychain on my keys that I bought off Etsy in high school which I still have to this day. On side it says "Metallicar," and on the other side it has that famous Dean line that made me a Dean girlie right from the pilot. 🥹💜

I had to do it 😭 And oh my word that's so cute! I love that you still have the keychain 💗 I literally remember the first time I saw this quote: I was scrolling on pinterest at home after school one day when I was in high school and I found it. I had no idea what it was from, and just DIED ☠️ When I first started watching Supernatural and I heard the quote, I was like:

LMAO 🤣

I love the way you described people watching at the grocery store -- it was so idyllic and relatable at the same time. I've definitely had those thoughts, and I kid you not, in the outline I've written for the sequel to Bubbly it starts out with the reader and Russell at the grocery store. 🤣

Thank you! I literally have that thought each time I go grocery shopping. My mind is just so far in left field- though sometimes I think it might be the hopeless romantic in me that does it lol 💗

And oh my stars that's crazy!! Great minds really do think alike 🧠 I can't wait to read the next addition to that universe! I need to catch up on my tbr so I can read the rest of Every Second Counts before the sequel to Bubbly drops!

I felt so hard for the reader in this! Tbf Russ's behavior did look suss AF, but I had a feeling it was all due to proposal nerves loll. However, that image of her hurling potato after potato at him -- and Russ maintaining his sense of humor about it for as long as he did -- had me in stitches! 🤣

I know I felt bad for her too! She really was going through a whole minivan of emotions in the produce section of a grocery store of all places. BUT yeah no he had a lot of red flags and she knows her man lol. Definitely sus vibes from Russell! I really like the headcanon that Russell isn't afraid of anything except proposing 🤣 I'm glad the potato dodge ball made you laugh 🥔 It was a lot of fun to write out all the potato jokes, but only Russell would be falling more in love with a woman hurling potatoes at him.

But when he saw she was seriously hurt in thinking he was cheating, his responses tugged at my heartstrings too. It was so lovely to see though how he finally got through to her and explained himself, though I had a lot of secondhand embarrassment thinking about how everyone else is watching her unravel with him and air out their dirty laundry by the produce aisle. 🤣🤣🤣

I know 😭 He was so sweet after he realized how serious she was taking the whole thing. And it hurt me a little bit to put him through the "no touching" and the hurt he felt when he realized she thought he cheated 💔 But YES! The embarrassment is so real 🫣 You wouldn't catch me doing that- watching someone else do it yes... because I'm nosy and I live on crazy stories that I can incorporate into my writing LOL 🤣

(Old lady grabbing the cucumber is ALL of us. lmfaooo -- Seriously, that part had me deceased. 💀💀)

Girl, She IS!! 🤣☠️🥒

Aww I love both of the quotes you highlighted! Is it so wrong that I want that for me? A big strong bear hug from a man who loves me?! 😭 Who might also be way too old for me, but I know would treat me right? lol

But thank you so much for giving me all these wonderful comments Alex! And again, thank you for sending in a prompt for my prompt celebration! 💗

Potatoes Weren't On The Grocery List!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt:"Please put the potato down."

Requested By: @zepskies

Summary: When your boyfriend comes back into town acting different and won't tell you what's wrong, you jump to an extreme conclusion, and use an unusual form of punishment to get some answers. Saturday morning at the supermarket just got a little bit more interesting...

Tropes: Established Relationship, Suspected Cheating, Fluff

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Kissing, Cursing, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Jealousy, Supposed Cheating? Embarrassing Situation at a Supermarket? Inappropriate Use of Potatoes? Cheesy Potato Jokes? I think that's everything? This one is more fluffy than anything else.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is another prompt requested for my prompt celebration by my lovely friend @zepskies 💗 Thank you so much for sending this one in! Alright, I know this entire situation is just CRAZY, but it really did make me cackle to think up another way of using potatoes. 🥔

“Would the owner of a red Prius with a bumper sticker that says ‘Driver Picks The Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole’ please come to the customer service desk?” A nasally voice crackles over the intercom, halting the sound of “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” that plays over the loudspeaker in the supermarket. “Again, would the owner of a red Prius with the-”

The rest of the message is drowned out in the high pitched squeak of a shopping cart against terrazzo two aisles away, the smell of cinnamon and fresh bread that floats from the bakery, and the chatter that buzzes up over the towering shelves of food.

Saturday was meal prep day, which meant that you spent your morning weaving your cart in and out of the crowded grocery store one block away from your apartment buying everything you needed for the week.

But despite how long it took, grocery shopping never felt like a chore because you believed it gave you a snap-shot into someone else’s life.

You spent all those Saturday mornings watching other people and creating stories for them in your head. Why they bought something, who they were shopping for, noticing who they were shopping with, wondering what they would cook-

It was intimate, feeling the world slow down for just a few moments to live in the present with them.

Noticing a man on the phone in the feminine hygiene section talking to an unseen entity, watching a little girl eat an apple while her mother reaches up for a box of cheerios, waiting in line behind a guy with only a box of condoms and spearmint gum in his basket, hearing a girl hum a little too loud and dance to the song blasting from her headphones as she shopped, and walking behind a woman in a power suit who studied a grocery list scrawled on a scrap of paper.

They were all going somewhere, all moving forward with their day and yet you all shared this single moment of serendipity, to be in the same place at the same time.

Unfortunately, today you were not enjoying it one bit and it had everything to do with the man standing at the end of your shopping cart studying an alarming amount of avocados with a blank expression.

Something was wrong.

You knew that the second your boyfriend, Russell, had come home. He’d been on a case with Colter a few states away, pulled from your arms in the middle of the night when he got an S.O.S from his younger brother, and because the two of you had been dating long distance comfortably for the better part of three years, you could tell that there was something seriously bothering him.

But you didn’t know what.

It was the first time in your entire relationship that you couldn’t tell what Russell was thinking and all it did was frustrate you further.

He was distant, moody, and on edge. You’d never seen him like this before, not even when you brought him home to meet your family for Christmas last year. Sure, he’d been a little jittery and you’d made a joke about him being more afraid to meet your dad than he was to face a convoy of armed guards, but Russell was not like this ever.

Your boyfriend was calm, collected, and smooth (too much sometimes, but you weren’t complaining). What he was not was jumpy and nervous. It took a lot to rattle him given what he’d been through. That’s why you were worried, because the man standing at the end of your shopping cart was not your boyfriend.

Maybe he got body snatched while he was out of town?

The idea that aliens had come down and taken the man you loved hostage was one of the only possible reasons why he was acting so odd.

Russell had barely said two words to you since he’d dragged himself into the apartment last night. He had gone straight into the bathroom for a shower, not bothering the usual running joke the two of you had when he would throw you over his shoulder and bring you with him for a well deserved bit of R and R.

And when he’d come out of the shower, a vision in a small bright pink towel tied around his waist, his bare chest glistening in the dim light of your bedroom, dark hair dripping wet and hanging forward to frame his chiseled jaw, while the mist from the warm water floated behind him and framed the beautiful man that you couldn't believe was yours, it made you feel so warm it rivaled Mt. Vesuvius before it blew.

You’d wanted to demonstrate how much you’d missed him, and you’d tried whispering sweet nothings into his ear while your fingers tickled along the edge of the towel, but Russell had kissed you on your forehead, pried away the curious fingers, and said that he was “tired.”

It made your blood run cold.

Reunion sex was the best tradition the two of you had, something you both appreciated and that fact that he’d said “no,” raised a red flag in the back of your mind the size of Texas. Russell never said no to sex, especially not after a long period of separation.

He’d gotten stabbed a year ago while on a mission, spent two nights in the hospital following a surgery (where he complained the whole time about how he didn’t need to be there), and when you brought him home and he started to get a little friendly, you told him that you didn’t think that sex was a good idea, that he needed to rest, but he’d said that it was “just a graze” and then made love to you for an hour.

Sure, you’d done most of the work, he was in recovery for goodness sake, and you didn’t want to rip his stitches… but this was different.

Russell was avoiding your gaze, acting fidgety, and when you’d tried to kiss him, Russell had opted to shift his face away to give you a quick kiss on the forehead instead.

And as much as you liked a good forehead kiss, you hadn’t seen Russell in over a week and all you wanted was a heated kiss that made you lose feeling in your legs and forget that he was gone at all.

You didn’t know what you did wrong and you tried to think of something that you could have done to make him angry or annoyed with you, but there wasn’t a single thing. The last time that you’d spoken to Russell was late four days ago and he’d told you how excited he was to see you and that he missed you.

But then why is he acting like this?

Russell pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps something quickly on the screen that’s angled away from you, his movements swift and to the point. But you note a small smile pulling at the end of his mouth. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since he got home.

You felt unsettled, anxiety thrumming and prickling along your skin like pop rocks.

You wanted Russell to talk to you. It wasn’t like him to keep things inside, if something was bothering him he was upfront about it, not passive aggressive. He didn’t slam every cabinet in your apartment or leave all the drawers in the bathroom open when the two of you were in a fight, Russell would tell you what pissed him off.

Usually it was you that drove him crazy, but he’d always said he liked it, kept him “on his toes,” and made him feel like a lion tamer in a circus.

An audible sigh comes through your lips, but Russell doesn’t look at you, instead he continues to tap something on his phone.

It reminded you of what you’d discovered him doing early this morning.

You’d woken up at four am, call it fate or just one of those random moments your body woke up before your mind did, but when you realized that you were alone, it made you uneasy.

In the three years you’d been together, Russell couldn’t keep his hands to himself, especially when he was asleep. That meant each time you woke up, Russell was laying on top of you, his strong arms wrapped around you in a bear hug, while he nuzzled his head into your hair and murmured things in his sleep you couldn’t understand.

It was your safe place, somewhere that felt unbreakable.

Entwined in Russell’s arms in the early morning with his warm body tensed around yours was better than a fluffy blanket on a cold day, better than a hot cup of cocoa that drove away a nightmare, and better than slipping into the gentle embrace of a familiar book.

It was always you that had to convince Russell to let you out of bed while he begged for another five minutes, not the other way around.

However, this morning you’d woken up to an empty bed with sheets long cold and found Russell sitting on the threadbare couch in the living room of your apartment talking on his phone in a hushed whisper.

The only words that you’d been able to make out were: “No, I haven’t talked to her yet honey.”

Your entire body had gone cold with one sentence. You had no idea who he was talking to or what Russell had to “talk” to you about, but all you could focus on was that he called whoever it was, “honey.”

It made an uncomfortable lump settle in the back of your throat. You didn’t want to believe that your boyfriend was cheating on you, but there was a little part of you that had begun to unravel, a thread in the back of your mind unwinding as you put together all the clues that Russell had given you since he came back.

The suspicious phone call, the fact that he didn’t want to make love, Russell acting distant and jumpy-

It didn’t bode well.

The thought of losing him made you want to throw up.

Russell was the place of refuge you went to when your world fell apart, and without him you didn’t know how to function. Before him your life was organized into neat little boxes and checklists, but Russell had shown you that you couldn’t control everything in your life, he brought a reassuring and welcome disorder that made you feel alive in the best way. He helped you embrace the chaos to make a life worth living.

The thought of going back to the mundane world you knew before Russell where all the men seemed to be carbon-cut frat boy copies of one another, or wanted a cookie cutter life with a woman who never spoke her mind, or never called back, never offered to pay for dinner, and never opened doors for you filled you with dread.

So you decided to go grocery shopping to clear your head and to get away from Russell for a little bit. It was the first time that you’d wanted to be away from him in all the years you’d known him and it broke your heart. Unfortunately, Russell had insisted on coming with you.

It was the only normal thing he'd done since he got back. Russell liked to do things with you no matter how mundane they would have sounded to someone else. Going to pick up the dry cleaning? Sign him up! Going to get some new thread for your sewing machine? Check! When Russell was back in town, he was back and nothing stopped him from being with you.

You would have found comfort in him coming with you if he wasn't acting lost.

The drive in his car to the supermarket had been silent and awkward, every conversation you tried to start when Russell came to a stop at a light lost in the wind. And even now Russell followed behind you like a zombie there, but not quite present.

It was an even bigger red flag, because the old Russell who came with you to the grocery store was incapable of walking down an aisle without finding one thing that he wanted. Whether it be an oversized bag of sour gummy worms or a new brand of sriracha flavored potato chips, your boyfriend was insufferable when you brought him, and you loved every second of it.

But not today.

He hadn’t said a word since you left the apartment, he even walked past the peaches without making an obligatory butt joke, and you still couldn’t think about the joke he’d made about the eggplant the last time he came with you without blushing.

Today all Russell did was stand there, his hands in his pockets, staring at the avocados, and his muscles tense beneath his army jacket as if he was anticipating something you couldn’t see.

Like a break up.

The thought made you clench your jaw together so tight you worried about the possibility of TMJ.

The urge to say something, anything was building in your chest, but you didn’t know how to start a conversation without crying or cussing him out using the colorful vocabulary you’d adopted after you met him.

The longer you stood, the more the thought of Russell cheating on you with someone else began to stitch its way into your head. Warped images of Russell in a dingy motel room along the road with a faceless woman in bed, rolling around with her for hours, the two of them laughing at your expense flashed through your mind on a sickening reel. The sentence you heard him say into the phone bouncing around in your head like a rubber ball.

His phone buzzes in his hand again, and your boyfriend’s smile widens before he types something out.

Before the two of you had started dating, Russell had been talking to Reenie regularly. Reenie with her perfect black hair, clear skin, tight pencil skirts, pristine power suits, and beautiful smile. Reenie who's badass lawyer skills made what you do for a living seem dull in comparison. Reenie who was so much of a grown up you felt like a little girl watching her mother get dressed for work.

The faceless woman in bed with your boyfriend at a motel adopts Reenie’s physique and a roar of jealousy vibrates in your head so loud it might as well be a swarm of angry bees.

Frustration, hurt, heartbreak, and anger formed a hard ball in the base of your throat and before you can stop yourself, you pick up the nearest object, a potato, and throw it as hard as you can at your boyfriend.

It hits him between his shoulder blades, glancing off his muscular back, before landing on the concrete floor with an audible thud.

You’d been aiming a little higher, but it does the trick, and it makes you feel a little bit better.

“What the hell?!” Russell turns to stare at you, showing more emotion than he has in the past 12 hours since he got back home. “Did you just throw a potato at me?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I-” You hesitate.

You didn’t want to come out and say it, it was too terrible for you to think about. The man you loved, your best friend, cheating on you, especially after how long the two of you have been together. Instead of answering you pick up another potato.

“Whoa!” Russell holds up his hands in surrender, cracking a signature half-grin that causes another fissure to open in your heart. It was the first time that he’d genuinely smiled at you since he got back. “Didn’t think potatoes were on the list today Sweetheart.”

“They are now!” You throw it at him, but Russell ducks. The potato sails through the air past him and lands in a colorful tub of summer squash, jarring a produce clerk restocking a display of apples nearby.

You reload.

“Baby wait!” Russell half ducks behind the cart, preparing for battle. Confusion and a little bit of humor flash in his eyes. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong before you beam me with Mr. Potato-head?”

“You know!” The rough skin of the potato grates against your skin as your grip tightens.

“No, I don’t.” His gaze flicks to the projectile in your hand. “I mean, I like french fries as much as the next guy, but that’s still a little raw.”

You could feel your frustration and heartbreak swirling and beating into a wildfire in your chest, burning in the air around you as the image of Russell and Reenie writhing in bed together comes skittering back into your mind. Granted, there was a part of you that knew playing dodgeball with potatoes in the grocery store was ridiculous, but you were so upset about what you thought your boyfriend was doing that it was difficult to form the words to express it.

And throwing potatoes at him seemed like the only option.

"Please put the potato down." Russell says, still half crouched behind the grocery cart.

“No!” You take aim at his head, cocking up your arm for the next throw.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?” Russell’s hands are still up in front of him, anticipating your throw, preparing to duck if need be, but his green eyes glint with a playful mirth. “Or are you going to show me what happens when good potatoes go bad?”

He looked like your Russell again, not some statue of the man you were in love with as he had the past few hours. It was infuriating that this was the thing that made him return to normal and not anything else that had happened in the 12 hours since he'd gotten home.

This time you find your words.

“Who is she!?” You screech so loud that everyone in the produce department stops to look over at Russell and you.

They were probably already watching given the fact that you’d thrown two potatoes at him and were about to unleash a third at any moment. You really hoped that you didn’t end up on the internet or the news, especially because your mother watched it religiously and would call to say “I told you so” about Russell. Ever since you’d brought him home she’d call to ask if you’d broken up with him yet. He still hadn’t won her over and this wouldn’t get him any brownie points.

“What?” Russell’s smile slips into a confused frown.

“Who is she?!”

By now the song “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” has begun to play again over the loudspeakers, the familiar tune echoing above the sounds of the supermarket.

“Who is who?”

“The girl you’re cheating on me with!”

“What?” Hurt flashes in his eyes followed quickly by surprise. “You think I’m cheating on you? Really? After everything we’ve been through together baby?”

“Don’t you baby me Russell Shaw! You’ve been acting weird since you got back! Avoiding my gaze, acting twitchy, not talking to me, refusing to touch me! Saying that you’re too tired to make love!” That last part you hadn’t meant to shout as loud as you could in the middle of a grocery store on the busiest shopping day of the week.

The elderly woman shopping for cucumbers on the opposite side of the produce display looks up to watch the two of you. Her eyes drag appreciatively over your boyfriend before picking up a large cucumber from the pile.

“You think I’m cheating on you because I told you I was tired?” Russell huffs out a laugh. “Baby, I get tired, I’m not a machine-”

“And I heard your little conversation this morning on the phone.” You continue, not smiling, your fingernails curling into the rough skin of the potato in your hand.

You hated that he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. Russell was laid back yes, but even he knew better than to tease you when you were angry, and Russell himself understood when his care-free attitude left little to be desired when you were furious with him.

“No, I haven’t talked to her yet honey!” You mimic his voice holding up the potato above your head, the axe over a head on a chopping block.

Hot frustrated tears roll down your cheek, the urge to sob catching under your rib cage, but you swallow it down.

A part of you wished that you were more calm and collected, not standing in the produce section of your local grocery store with a potato clutched in your hand like mjolnir, crying.

“Sweetheart-” He sighs and extends his hand towards you, intending to bring you some comfort. Some of his hair has fallen forward to frame his face in the commotion, and in a perfect world you would have brushed it back with a gentle smile and a kiss to the tip of his nose, but not this one.

Heaven is most certainly not a place on earth.

“No, don't touch me!” You flinch away from his outstretched hands, taking a shaky step backwards, tennis shoes squeaking against the floor. The image of him and Reenie was back, festering beneath your skin, followed by the sound of him whispering on the phone this morning.

His concerned frown drops into hurt and if your heart wasn’t already broken, that would have done it, seeing Russell look at you that way.

You’d never deprived him of your touch or the ability to touch you. Something that you’d learned early in your relationship was that deep down Russell longed for more than just one night, more than just a random fling with a woman late at night. He wanted something permanent, especially after he'd spent his entire life having the world slip between his fingers.

He’d had to learn how to be self-sufficient from an early age and deprived himself of what he really wanted for so long. But then he’d met you.

You knew deep in your heart that Russell longed for your touch and you in more ways than one. Not just for his pleasure, but the gentle lean of your head against his arm when you watched tv or the brace of your hand against his shoulder when you needed to push past him in the small hallway of your apartment or the warm embrace you gave him in the night when he came back to you. For you to take it away from him hurt more than you could ever know.

He’d had a handful of relationships, but none of them were as long as the one the two of you had and it made you feel proud to know that you were changing things for him, and that you were showing him what a healthy long lasting relationship looked like.

That was until you started lobbing potatoes at him in the produce department on your favorite shopping day of the week.

“Please, listen to me.” He pleads. This time he doesn’t try to touch you, but hurt flashes through his eyes again.

It was enough to almost make you cave. You didn’t want to believe that Russell would cheat on you, he never seemed the type for that. Sure he was flirty and spent a long time away from you, but you had trusted him because you’d believed that Russell honored your relationship the same way you did.

“Why should I? It all makes sense. You’ve been acting distant since you got back, you won’t touch me, you won’t even kiss me-”

“Can you please listen to me for one second?” He interrupts before running his hand through his hair to give it something to do, avoiding the urge to reach out for you again.

“No, I don't want to hear any of your excuses!”

Russell says your name in a frustrated tone. “It was my sister on the phone this morning.”

“Do you always talk to your sister at 4 am? Or oh, maybe it was Jake from Statefarm!” You roll your eyes. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I’ve never thought you were stupid. It was Dory!”

“Then what was so important at 4 am that you couldn’t wait to talk to her?”

“Oh for the love of- This!” Russell thrusts his hand into the pocket of his army jacket, before he shoves something into your empty hand.

Your gaze falls to the small blue velvet box cradled in your palm, looking at it for a minute too long, the angry tornado inside making it hard to process what it is.

“Russell? What is this?”

“I called Dory because I needed her to give me a pep talk. I was too much in my head last night. And when I asked Colter the other day he didn’t help at all.” He cracks a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I wasn’t too surprised by that, my brother has never been as smooth or as smart as me.”

“To do what?” You ask hesitantly.

Russell hesitates, measuring what he's going to say. The foreign nervous glint is back in your boyfriend's gaze, the one you'd seen since he came back. The same one that made you think your boyfriend had been abducted by aliens.

“Propose.” Russell rubs the back of his neck looking sheepish. “I was going to do this somewhere special, you know? Outside that taco truck we like or at least over dinner. Not a damn grocery store.”

You thought you were going to die of shock right there.

“You were going to propose?” Your voice comes out a little hesitant and squeaky. The potato in your other hand drops to the floor, the sound of it hitting the concrete thunderous.

“Yeah. That’s why I had to tack on a few extra days to my trip. I wanted to talk to your dad in person, this didn’t seem like the kinda thing to ask over the phone.”

“What?” Your mouth drops open in surprise. “You asked my dad?”

Russell nods. “I was surprised he said yes. I don’t think I’m exactly a favorite when it comes to you parents.” He huffs out an awkward laugh, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. “I didn’t mean to be so distant, but I wanted it to be perfect. And each time I tried to think of a way to do it or try to figure out what to say I couldn’t. That’s a first for me Sweetheart, we both know that I don’t have any problems talking.”

Oh my damn, I literally accused him of cheating. I’m a terrible person.

“I was tired last night.” Russell continues. “But I did want to make love, fuck baby, I always want to make love to you, but I was worried that I would propose to you at the wrong time.”

“The wrong time?” You swipe the back of your hand over your cheeks with a sniffle.

“We both know that I’m not good at controlling what I say when you’ve got your hands all over me. Especially not when you’re in my lap riding me to high heaven.” Russell’s smirk makes your cheeks flush.

There’s an awkward silence that fills the air between the two of you as your gaze drops to the box in your hand.

I don’t deserve him.

“Are you sure that you still want to marry me? Even after I thought you were cheating?” The question comes out in a whisper, guilt tugging at your heart.

You hated that you’d treated him that way, assumed that he would be the kind of guy to cheat on you. Deep down in your heart you knew that Russell wasn’t the type, but it made you feel even more guilty for accusing him of that.

Russell steps forward reaching out to you, but hesitates, his smile faltering. “Can I touch you now?”

“Yes.”

The relieved sigh that he releases when he pulls you into his tight embrace makes more tears spill from your red eyes. You hated that you’d said that to him, that you’d deprived him of the one thing he needed since the moment the two of you met. He tucks you into the little you-shaped nook between his shoulder and his throat, arms wrapping around you warm and familiar. It feels more like home than anywhere else.

“Baby, nothing’s going to stop me from that. You could be a zombie with rotting lips infested with maggots and I’d still be the luckiest guy on the planet because I got to marry you.” His words rumble up his chest against your cheek.

“And you thought you didn’t have anything romantic to say.” You say with a giggle, squeezing him tight.

“Zombies? That’s what does it for you?” Your boyfriend's chuckle shakes your body as his hand smoothes over your back, the motion calming your racing heart.

You sniffle out a laugh, nuzzling further into his chest. By now you were sure there were tears and snot on his t-shirt, but Russell doesn’t care, not when he has you in his arms again.

“So is this a yes or are you just feeling really sorry for throwing potatoes at me?” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Say yes sweetie, or I will.” The elderly woman who was shopping for cucumbers stage whispers from your left.

You didn’t know that she was still standing there, but all it did was bring a wave of embarrassment over you thinking of everything that you’d yelled at your boyfriend and done with the potatoes at your local grocery store.

Damn it, I’m going to have to start shopping somewhere else.

You pull back from Russell’s chest to stare up into the warm gaze of the man who’d always been there for you. “Yes.” You nod.

The kiss he gives you is the one that you wanted when he came home. The rough scrape of beard against soft skin, the tangle of his tongue in your mouth, the warmth that bubbles up from the deep to swallow you whole as you lose yourself in the man you love, and the soft gasp that comes when Russell drags you further into him with a growl that rumbles through his muscular chest.

“Now can we please go back to the apartment?” He rasps, warm hands holding on to your cheeks as if you’re going to slip away, his green eyes darkening with his words before they rake across your body. “I’d like to celebrate our engagement the old fashioned way. Unless you want to keep playing hot-potato?”

“No. We can go home.”

“Baby-” Russell rumbles once more, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re already there.”

A/N: See happy endings all around! Thank you again @zepskies for asking me for this prompt and letting me explore another story with Russell! Daydreaming and writing about him never gets old 👀

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my general Jensen Ackles Character taglist or my Russell Shaw taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @waynes-multiverse

#jensen ackles #russell shaw #russell shaw jensen ackles #russell shaw fanfiction #russell shaw x you #russell shaw x reader #russell shaw fic #russell shaw tracker #tracker #tracker cbs #tracker fanfiction #russell shaw x female reader #tracker fic #jackles #wonderful mutuals 💕

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jesterkoops · 10 hours ago

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You tricked me, my Helly

Thoughts and speculation about 2x09 after the cut

After having had 24 hours to mull over the episode, I have to say that the thing that lingers the most with me is Jame Eagan's monstrous presence. While short in terms of screentime, it weighs and permeates the episode in important ways.

I did not expect someone who makes Tywin Lannister look like "dad of the decade" by comparison. I know there have been a lot of discussions about Helena being as trapped as Helly is on the severed floor, but I did not expect it to be so literal. She has no control over where she lives, what she eats, how she eats it, how she gets around, her own severed body, and, most likely, who she [doesn't] get to love. So much for "Helly's rebelliousness is Helena's entitlement". That looks like a pretty silly read now, doesn't it? I read a wonderful comment saying that the time she spent as Helly was probably the time she experienced the most privacy in her entire life. Which is so incredibly ironic. Helly being so jealous of their outies life out there and Helena being so jealous of life on the severed floor because to her it's freer than anything she's ever experienced.

And Jame's ominous presence on the severed floor at the end of the episode, his "You tricked me, my Helly", might very well be the key to a whole bunch of reveals in the next episode that could potentially converge the innie/outie combo that so far has been the most distant from one another.

First, this is Helly with Jame. Helly has only interacted with him once before, at the gala, at the one and only moment we saw him being fatherly towards Helena. So she probably doesn't have any strong feelings about him other than "he's her dad and he's a monster like she is". But if she now finds out who he truly is, and what he is capable of towards his own daughter, will her perspective on Helena not inevitably shift and a lot of her presumptions and beliefs about her have to be challenged?

On top of that, there's that line: "You tricked me, my Helly." Now, he could very well be referring to the time they 'met' at the gala, or the fact that Helly is hell bent on wrecking havoc on the severed floor. But the timing of it is a bit odd, because why would he show up now and not when she tried to hang herself, or after the OTC, or when Irving tried to drown her? Why now? Maybe because, as I have seen some speculate, as I have, it is Helena who somehow tricked him on the outside in ways we are still not privy to. There's been plenty of weird behaviour from her on the outside this season, from her interaction with Mark at the restaurant (about which I speculated about here) to the question of whether in this episode she deliberately sent Burt after Irving because she knew he would help him out. Britt has also talked plenty about Helena's needs and desires starting to clash with those of the company, but so far we have seen nothing explicit about it. So unless she's totally off in analysing her own character (I doubt it) there's something awaiting in the finale.

If this is the case, if Helena has started working against her father, and he is down there to punish her in her innie form because he knows that it's the one he can probably get best away with (as the massively disturbing implications about the birthing retreat have demonstrated), that will also be a massive shock to the system for Helly "we are not the same" R.

Maybe that "Helly E" was not just a throwaway joke, but the new Helly that will emerge at the end of this season. Not a reintegration in the physical sense, but the beginning of a realignment of some sort.

[And maybe the answer to Jessica's refusal to say which is her favorite pairing because it would be a spoiler... it's not Mark and Helly R, it's Mark and Helly E?]

#severance #severance spoilers #severance speculation #helly r #helly e #helena eagan

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htaesan · 7 hours ago

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　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ WHERE NO ONE KNOWS ME 　　────　ᅠ ( lee heeseung )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀after a long day of relentless fame, you find yourself in the comfort of a small cosy coffee shop, only to be met with a barista who treats you like any other person. in his quiet kindness, you find something worth living for again𑁋a place to be unknown, and maybe the start of something more.

　　　ᅠ 이희승 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 1.4k ⠀ genre fluff meet cute barista au non idol au ⠀ contains mentions of food ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ i.. have no idea how i managed to pull this off amidst having like 10 reports to write but i pulled through !! happy birthday @flwrstqr, this is for you !

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

THE city lights blur around you as you step out of the car, pulling your mask over your face. You sigh, taking in the view around you—everyone is busy with their own lives. Some are walking, hand in hand with their partner; some are on the phone, talking to someone on the other side with no care in the world; and some are enjoying a stroll through the city’s nightlife. Ordinary, simple, tranquil.

And that is all you want.

Your schedule has been busy these past few months—brand deals rushing in like a massive flood, photo shoots every other day, interviews here and there, paparazzi and flashing cameras everywhere you go, people recognising you and taking videos of you anywhere. You didn’t expect it to turn out like this. You didn’t expect that your debut album, filled with songs which lyrics you heartfully wrote and melodies you intricately built, would blow up almost instantly over the course of three weeks. And the hype hasn’t died down, even after six months. It just got bigger and bigger.

It’s not like you don’t like it—your fame is what you rightfully deserve after all the sleepless nights working to make sure your debut is as perfect as possible. But now, you’re tired, and it’s like your life isn’t yours anymore.

You take a deep breath, eyes glued to the café in front of you. It looks cosy, tucked into one of the only quiet streets of the city. The warm glow radiating from its windows pulled your interest. You walk towards its entrance, realising that this place is near your apartment, but you’ve never had the time to visit. Not until now.

You push the café door open, the warm air bursting against your face. You scan the small space—there’s a few customers, but so far, none of them are paying attention to you.

You gulp. You can’t let your guard down just yet.

You approach the register, lowering your cap down as you instinctively prepare to lower your voice—an attempt to mask your well-known identity, even though the entire country already knows who you are just from one look at your eyes.

From the other side of the counter, the barista is cleaning a mug. He looks a little too stylish—perhaps a little too good looking to be working in such a tranquil place. He perks up at your presence, and you immediately look at the name tag pinned against his apron.

Heeseung.

“Welcome,” he says, his smile polite and his voice calm. You narrow your eyes at the black-haired man in front of you.

He didn’t let out any gasp of recognition, and there wasn’t any frantic energy radiating out of him.

You pause.

This is new. This is weird.

“What would you like to order?” he asks, fingers ready to key in your order into the iPad in his hand.

You clear your throat, ordering a drink and a dessert for yourself, your voice steady but alarmingly cautious.

“A caramel latte and a pavlova, please.”

“Alright. Name?”

The world goes silent for a minute. You look around rather anxiously. For a moment, you think everyone’s listening.

“Elle,” you lie.

You watch as Heeseung raises a brow at the way you’re eyeing him, but he doesn’t do anything about it. He keys in whatever you’ve told him, then he nods at you before turning to make your order.

You linger at the counter for quite a while before retreating to a table at the corner of the café, away from everyone else.

It’s weird. Why is he treating you like any other person here? Doesn’t he know who you are?

You sink into your chair, letting the cushions embrace you. You lean against it, letting the exhaustion settle in. The day’s events rush to your head, and it makes you feel like you’re spinning.

And it makes you question Heeseung too.

Every second you’re outside, you have to keep your guard up, in case of anything. You can’t really do what you like, afraid that it’d make you face ridicule. You have to make sure you’re always donned up, and you have to make sure you’re following all of the other ridiculous rules society sets upon you—you never know when people are watching.

But why isn’t Heeseung treating you like everyone else does? Why doesn’t he treat you like you’re the most perfect person on earth? Why isn’t he analysing your every move, waiting for some kind of mistake that he could bring you down with?

“Excuse me,” Heeseung’s voice rings through your ears, and as you eyes flutter open, you don’t realise you’ve been dozing off. He gives you a polite smile, a tray with your drink and your dessert in hand.

“Here’s your order, Elle,” he says, setting down the mug and plate on the table. “Enjoy.”

You sit there, frozen as you don’t know what to do.

Then, as he’s about to turn to leave, the question that’s been lingering around in your head leaves your mouth without you realising. “Do you know who I am?”

Heeseung pauses. “Yeah.”

“Who am I, then?” you ask, and albeit the awkwardness, you meet his eyes.

“You’re Y/N,” he replies, his voice quieter this time.

Your chest tightens.

“Then… why aren’t you acting like everyone else?”

Heeseung gives you a small smile, and you feel goosebumps jolting through your body. “Because you’re you. You’re a celebrity, you’re a talented singer, and you’re beautiful—I admit that. But I don’t see why I have to make you uncomfortable over those facts.”

Your eyes widen, and something begins to stir in your chest.

When you don’t reply, Heeseung’s smile shifts from something more genuine back to his polite, customer-service smile. He turns and walks away, leaving you watching him in a complete daze.

Your heart is hammering against your chest, more violently than you expected it to.

When was the last time someone ever saw you as just a person, not as a celebrity?

You take a glance at Heeseung, who’s back to his work behind the counter. Suddenly, you notice everything—the way his sleeves are rolled up at just the perfect angle, the way his brows furrow when he’s focused on making another drink, and the way his black hair falls on his forehead, and the way he looks just… perfect. Cute, even.

You remember his small smile, and the way it tingles you in a way you’ve never felt before.

Your fingers tighten around the warm mug.

For some reason, this fuzzy feeling that’s filling up your heart feels rare.

You don’t even realise you’ve finished your latte, and that your pavlova is completely devoured. You’re too lost in thought to even realise how much time you’ve spent in the cosy little café.

Quickly, you take your things and pull your mask up to your nose. For some reason, you hesitate as you approach the counter.

But then, some kind of nervous energy rushes through you, and you quickly scribble a note on the napkin you’re holding.

Thanks for your kindness. It made my day.

You hand Heeseung the money, slipping the note with it.

Heeseung immediately notices the napkin. He looks down, his eyes scanning the words.

When he looks back up, your eyes meet, and you give him a small eye smile. “See you next time,” you say softly.

And for the first time in a long while, you actually mean it.

Heeseung watches you walk out the door of his café, the small bell hanging on top of it chiming as the door closes. He leans against the counter, fingers tracing the edge of the folded napkin. Once you’re out of his sight, and the café settles back into its usual rhythm, his focus turns to the note. He unfolds the napkin, his eyes scan the neat handwriting. He chuckles—there’s something just adorable about it.

Thank you for your kindness.

He smiles.

It made my day.

The quiet smile on Heeseung’s lips grows larger. His mind replays the memory of you: how you looked so at peace, sipping the hour away at the corner of the café that he worked hard to establish. He remembers looking at you, and in the midst of admiring how pretty you actually are, he realises that you’re different from what the media made you out to be. Quieter, maybe. Softer. More beautiful, definitely. Less of the dazzling, perfect, and untouchable figure he sees on the billboard everywhere he goes. Instead, you’re more… human.

His gaze flickers to the door, where you stood a few moments ago.

Would you come again?

He dearly hopes so.

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

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yupuffin · 3 days ago

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Marine biology nerd reacts to Wuthering Waves fishing minigame! Part 1

Hi, I have a BA in biology with an unofficial specialization in marine bio (my college didn't offer anything more specific) so I love everything that has to do with sea critters, and since my enthusiasm about salps got positive reception, I would love to yap about some fun facts relevant to the obtainable fish present in the new fishing minigame in Wuthering Waves 🐟🌊

We're going to start with the...

Fried Egg Jellyfish

The fried egg jellyfish in Wuthering Waves looks like a pretty out-of-pocket design, but fried egg jellies are, in fact, real animals!

Sharing this photo again of one I took near a body of water in my region -- they do legitimately look like fried eggs. 😂 They belong to the genus Phacellophora and are found in most of the world's oceans. (Not to be confused with Cotylorhiza tuberculata, which is also called the "fried egg jellyfish" but is a different species.)

I'm not sure if it varies by region, but where I live, the best time to see them is between mid-July and mid-August, when they appear in droves -- so I see them often enough that I was positively ticked to see them featured in Wuthering Waves essentially unaltered. The caveat would be the note about them purportedly tasting like fried eggs; while some species of jellyfish are indeed edible when prepared properly, I'm not sure about this one specifically, so I can't say I endorse trying -- and even if they are, they probably don't taste like eggs, as jellyfish supposedly bears little to no flavor.

Yarn Eel

I'm going to guess this one is a play on the real animal called the ribbon eel, which is indeed quite colorful, but not necessarily found in large knots. Apparently, while they don't do so well in captivity, they can live for up to twenty years in the wild! (So, depending on who all is reading this... there might be ribbon eels out there that are your age or older. 👀)

(Image source)

Sob Blob

Many of us might be familiar with the infamous, meme-worthy photo of the "blobfish" on which this critter is quite clearly based. However, did you know that said photograph does not accurately portray what blobfish usually look like?

Blobfish live on the seabed at depths of up to over nine thousand (!!!) feet; to maintain their integrity against the immense pressure at that depth, the blobfish's soft tissues are full of water and fat. So if a blobfish were to get caught in a net and very abruptly moved to sea level, where the pressure is much lower, its "water-logged" tissues effectively explode, giving it the unnatural "blob" appearance featured in the infamous photo.

(Image from NOAA, in the public domain)

This is a real blob sculpin shown in its natural habitat -- and in a much more fish-shaped state! Moreover, unlike the in-game Sob Blob, blobfish don't have a lot of natural predators and can get away with a rather sedentary lifestyle in which they remain largely stationary unless it's absolutely necessary for them to move. Moisturized, unbothered, flourishing.

And, saving probably my favorite featured critter of the bunch for last:

Salp

Salps are much less well-known critters than any of the ones I've described so far, I think! Aside from in Wuthering Waves, I've only ever heard mention of them in the 2007 video game Endless Ocean (of which I was also a huge fan back when I had a Wii). I would say they're not prominent in popular culture by any stretch of the imagination, as far as I'm aware.

Salps are tunicates, a type of marine invertebrate that is nevertheless part of the phylum Chordata that includes all vertebrates, as tunicates possess notochords (the embryonic precursor to the vertebral column), as well as other chordate features, in their larval stage. In this case, the in-game description is at least partially accurate, as salps are a key component of the marine ecosystem and are thought to be a food source for a great many other animals, including fish and seabirds -- though it's difficult to tell exactly which ones, since they're gelatinous and don't leave behind much evidence of being eaten in their predators' digestive tracts. They're also purportedly one of the fastest-growing multicellular animals in the world.

Their life cycle involves an alternation between solitary and "chain" phases depending on the generation. While the salps' in-game entry describes them as sometimes "too small to bother with," IRL the biggest salp colonies can literally grow to lengths of one hundred feet!

(Image source)

That's about all I have time for today! I've got more critters I can talk about, so be sure to let me know if you're interested in a part two 😉

#marine biology #wuthering waves #wuwa

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coraniaid · 2 days ago

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It would have been very easy for the writers of The Gift to frame Giles's decision to kill Ben as something other than what it is.

Ben could have tried to attack Giles first, in order to escape, forcing Giles to defend himself (we know that Buffy herself has, by this point in the show, almost certainly taken several human lives in self-defence, whether that's one of the Order of Taraka assassins in What's My Line? or Gwendolyn Post in Revelations or some of the Knights of Byzantium earlier in the season). We, the audience, know that Ben has actually made the choice to side with Glory and betray Dawn -- the writers could have had Giles find this out somehow, rather than having him kill Ben while believing Ben to be entirely blameless for anything Glory did. If nothing else, they could have had Giles kill Ben in a less sordid and realistic way: choking him to death after establishing that he can barely move while Ben struggles feebly to stay alive.

But, notably, the writers didn't do this. At every stage they made the choice to frame Ben's death as unsympathetically as they could. They make it very clear that they don't think Ben's death is something to approve of at all. Just in The Gift itself:

Xander brings up the possibility of killing Ben to stop Glory ("I know he's an innocent, but not like Dawn innocent ... we could kill a regular guy") only to immediately rule it out with a look of disgust. Why say this if not to comment on what Giles will later do?

Willow explicitly notes that the ritual to use the Key is "a one time thing": if Glory doesn't manage to kill Dawn this time, she's got no reason to try again. Why say this if you want Giles's later decision to seem justified?

The scenes with Dawn and Glory suggest that the separation between Glory and Ben is weakening, meaning that Glory herself is becoming more human and more affected by human emotions like guilt and empathy. Why include these scenes if we're meant to see Glory as an active, long-term danger?

Tara prophetically accuses Giles of being "a killer", a word we've heard before on the show (see, for example, the way Faith reacted to being called a killer by Forrest in Who Are You?, or indeed Buffy's own fears that "the Slayer is just a killer" as expressed this episode). Why use this word, or include this moment at all, if we're meant to be cheering Giles on?

Giles himself gives Ben a speech in which he admits that Buffy would never kill Ben because it's not the heroic thing to do. Like ... this isn't exactly subtle.

We are not meant to approve of Giles murdering Ben; and we are meant to see it as murder. The writers go out of their way to tell us that it's morally wrong, that none of the other Scoobies would support it, and it doesn't even work to achieve Giles's stated goal of keeping Buffy safe: she dies anyway, mere minutes after the murder. By every measure, the show tells us, this is the wrong thing to do. Giles will never bring it up again, not even when he's trying to convince Buffy that she needs him to make hard decisions on her behalf.

So it's kind of infuriating that so much of the fandom insists on reading it as an act of heroism anyway.

It isn't. It isn't at all. If anybody other than one of the protagonists was making this decision -- if it was the Knights trying to kill Dawn to save the world, or the Initiative locking up Oz and treating him like an animal because a few nights a month he turned into a dangerous monster, or the parents of Sunnydale trying to burn teenage witches at the stake to keep their town safe -- there would be no ambiguity about this in the fandom at all. And yet, because it is one of the protagonists -- specifically, because it's the character the fandom has decided to read as Buffy's Dad who only does good things because he loves her -- somehow the normal rules don't apply.

It's not an act of heroism though. The show is right about that, and the fandom is wrong. It's one of the worst things Giles does; a complete betrayal of his promise to Buffy in Season 2 to always offer her his support and respect. It has far more in common with his willingness to drug her and lie to her face about doing so in Helpless or to abandon her in her moment of greatest need in Tabula Rasa than it does with any of Giles (many) moments of actual nobility and self-sacrifice. It's a sign that, fundamentally, Giles does not accept that Buffy has right to make decisions on her own.

Giles knows that, given the choice, Buffy would choose to spare Ben's life. He doesn't believe he could ever convince her to change her mind. And so he takes the choice away from her.

Why would anyone applaud that?

#btvs

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djullyreviews · 3 days ago

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Why doesn’t anyone talk about Dr. Stone anymore?

Text without spoilers!! Text with adapted translation from Portuguese Brazil to English! Text with personal opinion!

Text revised in 15/03/2025

I decided to rewatch the anime when I realized I really wanted to know how it all ended! From the very beginning, I was intrigued by the mystery that ties the whole story together: why did everyone in the world turn to stone?

Since then, I’ve ended up watching the entire first season, and now here I am, following the release of the fourth season. It’s amazing to see that the story continued far beyond the first season, but then I remembered one key factor working in its favor—it’s a shounen anime, after all!

I loved Cassanova Posse so much, thks ALI !!!

IT PROMISED NOTHING AT FIRST, BUT IT’S DELIVERING HOT MEN AND FUN.

Well then. I don’t think I was the only one who considered dropping the series after that scene where Ruri took the antibiotic. It was downright bizarre—even hardcore shounen fans seemed to find it odd (really???). I vaguely remember people on social media trying to "cancel" the series for a few reasons: the way the bodies were drawn and those hypersexualized scenes at questionable moments.

I suspect that scene caused some backlash. Word must have reached Boichi, the writer, and the anime’s production studio. A drastic change is noticeable in the first season—those strange camera angles on female characters, which were everywhere in the early episodes, were almost completely toned down.

That’s not to say the anime doesn’t have sexy and sexualized female characters. It still follows the classic shounen formula: big breasts, thin waists, curvy figures, and beautiful women. However, they cut so many of the unnecessary hypersexualized scenes of female characters that they were left with… hypersexualized male characters instead. And that trend clearly continued throughout the seasons—cue the diving scenes with sunlit, bare male butts (and much more).

It made me wonder if this is just Boichi’s artistic style—sexualizing both male and female bodies. I have no idea what kind of hentai or adult works he’s drawn before, but this tendency is noticeable in Dr. Stone, even though the series itself is far from adult content.

This excess of male nudity must have felt strange to some viewers—especially those who were watching for the female characters. If that was the main appeal for them… well, tough luck. The anime seems to have shifted away from its original target male audience and ended up captivating the female audience instead.

Each new character is a man with a handsome face (with a few exceptions), a perfect body, and a striking personality. Meanwhile, very few new female characters have joined Senku’s nerd club.

"There's no heterosexual explanation for this"

The straight couples were confirmed by the authors but received little attention. Meanwhile, the number of scenes featuring men doing and saying brotherly things… well, let’s just say it only got more intense with each new season. I started this anime thinking the target audience was men, but by the end, I felt like I was the target audience.

Gen's entire existence feels almost too sugary for a shounen series—especially with that velvety voice every time he calls out "Senku-chan"… And then Stanley and Xeno show up, delivering gay-coded content faster than the last BL series I read.

Ryuusui has openly stated—twice—that he’s bisexual (at least according to Crunchyroll’s translation). Honestly, I’m surprised that wasn’t censored on Japanese TV.

Too many events to mention here...........

THE APEX OF ABSURDITY IN THE WORK

One of the goals of this post is to encourage everyone to watch Dr. Stone and give the anime a second chance. Let’s gooo!!!

The authors fully embrace the height of absurdity in the events:

Do you know DanDanDan? That’s right, a popular shounen with a supernatural theme where totally absurd events unfold, and the author uses the bizarre to drive the story and draw his manga.

Dr. Stone isn’t all that different in this regard. The theme changes—science, physics, mathematics, chemistry, and the like are the weapons used to write these events. They’re so absurd that they end up being ridiculously funny.

Watching Dr. Stone is almost the same experience: silly, light, and funny at times. It’s something you watch without needing to think too hard to understand what’s being proposed (and you usually get a few quick science lessons from Senku).

The protagonist isn’t boring by default; he’s a nerd:

Our onion-loving nerd is far from being the most boring protagonist I’ve seen in shounen manga (I’ve seen worse). While we have our darling Okarin, the ufology nerd, here we get Senku—living and breathing science in every single episode.

Unusual character design:

Boichi did a fantastic job with the character designs. He delivers the basics really well, whether it’s the villains or the protagonists.

I’ll admit, Boichi’s style isn’t my personal favorite, but I can’t deny that he does his job as a mangaka very well.

Stop being hypocrites about the bodies in Dr. Stone while still consuming other popular animes that do the same (or worse):

Let’s be real. Stop complaining about the character designs in Dr. Stone when there are other popular animes out there that do the exact same thing, if not worse. I don’t see people trying to “cancel” those.

I didn’t think the ending was bad at all (no spoilers):

I decided to look up the series’ ending just to prepare myself for any possible disappointment. After quickly browsing the internet, I’ll be honest: it’s not bad at all (I’ve seen much worse endings out there).

In this case, I’d recommend everyone do the same—research the ending at your own risk. Personally, it didn’t discourage me from watching the anime until the end. I’m already hooked on the characters, and now there’s no turning back (they’re also some of the hottest characters).

SO WHY DID DR. STONE'S AUDIENCE DISAPPEAR??

With each episode I watched, I kept asking myself the same question.

Maybe it was because of the initial choices made in the first season (the first arc), and many people ended up dropping the show right then and there.

It’s possible that the hypersexualized scenes involving girls in the early episodes turned people off.

Maybe the male audience found it strange to see so many naked male bodies and not a single naked female character.

I also suspect that the show’s shift to focus more on the female audience, which is likely the majority of those who buy and consume the show today, may have led to some silent treatment.

Another thing I didn’t get was whether the absurdity of certain events was intentional from the start. It was only in the second season that I realized it was. Many people must have dropped the show because of that.

Many viewers are also bothered by the inclusion of the possibility of gay, bisexual, lesbian, and asexual characters. There are a lot of predatory anime/manga out there where characters do homosexual things, but the authors will never make it official. Dr. Stone seems to fall into that category as well.

So why do I see such a small community around Dr. Stone on social media? Why doesn’t it get talked about more? Could it be because of the issues I mentioned above? Or is there something else I’m not aware of?

Many anime currently being released meet these requirements, and Dr. Stone does too, so it’s a mystery why it’s rarely discussed on social media.

In the end, Dr. Stone is this chaotic mix of science, absurdity, and character design that somehow makes perfect sense in its own quirky way. It’s not your typical shounen, and maybe that’s why it didn’t have the same impact as other series. It’s eccentric, and let’s be honest, who doesn’t love a show where you learn chemistry while watching handsome guys argue about whether humanity should go back to its old ways or forge a new path after the petrification? Sure, the hypersexualized scenes and occasional weirdness might turn some people off, but if we’re honest, Dr. Stone delivers something a lot more refreshing than the usual predictable clichés. So why isn’t it taking over social media? Maybe it’s just another case of the reasons I mentioned before—or maybe, just maybe, the otaku crowd isn’t ready for shounen with a more scientific focus. Either way, I’m here for it, appreciating when shows step outside the "usual" in the shounen category.

I appreciate any and all support for this blog I created. Likes, reblogs, or recommending it to others are a huge help. See you in the next post!

#dr. stone #dr stone #sengen #ishigami senku #gen asagiri #anime #dandadan #shounen manga #shounen jump #djullyreview #xeno #stanley snyder #stanxeno #anime and manga #japanese #english #portuguese #anime art

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81pastrys · 7 hours ago

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College ! AU

Part 5 / 7

Summary— She can’t escape Lando for long, especially when a certain text comes through and has her running around in her pajamas.

Warnings— angst ; mentions of causal cheating ; safe word mentioned (for DD or if they’re in danger)

A/N— how will this pan out?

Series List

I pack an overnight bag and Lando is begging me not to leave. “Where are you going?” He asked. I had told him I lived 3 hours away, so he knows I’m not going home with classes tomorrow.

“Somewhere else.” I respond coldly to him. I finish the bag and walk out the dorm. He follows me to the lobby.

“Please, it was a joke we didn’t actually think-“ he started but stopped when I turned around and gave him a death stare.

“Didn’t think what?” I ask. “That cheating is wrong? That pining after me for a bet nonetheless is wrong?” He shut up and I’ve caught attention of other people in the lobby. “I knew I should’ve requested a different dorm the first day I met you.”

That hit him like a truck. There were a few girls from one of my classes that came up and acted like we were friends and that they were waiting for me. Lando walked off, huffing a breath out.

“Thank you.” I sigh to the girls when we sit down. I explain the situation and they look at each other with knowing looks.

“Babe, Lando and his friends have been players from the get go.” One said. “They make bets and then screw them over to hurt the girl.” Oh, so I’m not the only one.

“That’s amazing.” I say sarcastically. “He was fine the first week, I had no clue.” I mention. There was something genuine about the way we bonded.

“Oscar has already cheated on Lilly multiple times, it’s like his only personality trait. She doesn’t care as long as he’s in her bed by night.” Another girl said.

“Ew I cannot with guys.” I say. The girls let me crash in their dorm for the night while I try to figure out a different dorm situation.

When I’m told the deadline to swap rooms was missed, I crashed out. The girls apologized profusely and I had to return to stay with Lando. I grab the bag I had packed the night prior and head down the hall. I open the door and Lando isn’t there.

I go to my side and my bed isn’t made like I left it, someone slept in my bed. I take a deep breath. Hopefully it was just him and not some whore he brought over.

I scroll on my phone and get a text. It’s Lando. I scramble around and go on his side of the room. “Fuck fuck fuck.” I whisper. I rush out my room and run to Charles and Carlos’s room, frantically knocking. No response. I go to Oscar’s and knock profusely. Lilly answers and I push past her and see Oscar on his bed. “Get up, let’s go.” I demand. He doesn’t hesitate.

“Oscar what the fuck?” Lilly asked. We don’t respond before running down the hall and to the parking lot. I fumble with my car keys and start the car. I put a bar location in my phone and speed off.

“Where are we going?” He asked. I sigh before calming myself. Lando and I had talked one night about how stupid college safety is and deemed a safe word between each other if the other needed a ride or was in danger.

“Lando texted me our safe word.” I say quietly. We also shared our live locations that night in case. “Charles and Carlos didn’t answer their door, so I’m assuming they’re with him.” Which makes the situation worse.

Uh oh.

Taglist: @sadiemack9

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dsnzfb · 23 hours ago

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Coming On Quickly (R18+)

Cactus/Rose (m/m), cold snz. Just under 5.5k warnings: sex, contagion talk, uncovered snz, cactus is doomed In which Cactus has to deal with some strange new feelings when Rose catches a particularly intense cold.

He felt fine. That’s what Rose told himself when shivering on the way to work. He picked up a cup of tea from his usual coffee shop, though a certain someone wasn’t working that morning. The cold air and steam from the tea was what was making his nose run, not anything else.

The morning was going well, even if he sneezed out of nowhere and dropped his keys as he was trying to unlock the door. Didn’t mean anything.

Another couple of sneezes when he was finally warming up and going through his morning checklist, and Rose finally considered the fact that he might’ve caught a tiny cold.

Just a small one. Not anywhere near bad enough to go home, it was just a sniffle. Besides, he had his tea, the shop was warm (for the flowers’ sake), and he was surrounded by handkerchiefs if he needed them.

His nose was running properly now, soft sniffles no longer enough to keep it at bay, which was definitely chalked up to the change in temperature.

It was a few days post-christmas. He wouldn’t even usually be open this time of year, but it was surprisingly lucrative, especially when his competitors were shut. You never know when someone needs some flowers! A last minute gift, or one ordered weeks in advance to be picked up on a day like today…

Rose sniffled again and rummaged for one of his own handkerchiefs. Didn’t wanna dip into his stock just yet, his nose was only a little drippy. And itchy-

“HheiH-KKSHh! Oh, goodness…”

He didn’t have to hold them back, he realised, but it’s difficult when it’s all you’ve known- ohgod, the itch was back-

“Hhi-KKSHhew! …Ow…”

Okay, that stung his throat. He snuffled into the handkerchief he finally found and flipped the switch on his kettle. He was going to need more tea to get through today, and the one he just bought was getting dangerously low.

His first customer of the day came in about half an hour later, wanting to browse and ask Rose his expert opinion on what flowers to get his mother-in-law to get on her good side for the upcoming year. When trying to offer up assistance, Rose’s nose of course decided that was the moment to start running like a freight train.

“snf! Goodness- please excuse me a moment…” He turned away to blow his nose, though he knew this wouldn’t be the end of it, “All this cold weather, you see…”

“There’s a lot of it going around this time of year.” The customer replied with a sympathetic smile, though Rose noticed them taking a subtle step back. He didn’t blame the guy. From all the dripping and blowing and sneezing he’d done, his nose was probably a cherry red.

“I sound worse than I feel.” He replied, unsure if he really believed himself. His muscles were starting to ache, “Sorry about that. Anyway, you were talking about her favourite colours? We can use it either as a base or as an accent colour.”

“I know she likes pink, but I think it’s the, uh, the really bright one that’s basically red.”

“Magenta?”

The guy looked confused. Perplexed, even.

Rose got out from behind the counter and took him to a bunch of brightly coloured carnations.

“This colour, dear.”

“Oh- yeah, that’s it! The bright pink!”

“It’s quite the bold colour, so I’d recommehhhnd… E-excuse- hhat’sSHHKk!! KkshHHEew!”

Rose realised as he sneezed into his elbow that he’d left the handkerchief at the counter, and that the double was very productive.

“Bless you!”

“My god- sorry- a moment please-” he mumbled into the crook of his elbow, hurrying back to the safety of his handkerchief. He felt mortified as he cleaned himself up.

“I’m so sorry about that, how unsightly, they snuck up on me…” He blew his nose with a slight honk, wincing at how productive even that was.

“Uh, it’s okay? Sorry to make you work when you’re feeling so bad.”

Well, at least this guy wasn’t an asshole. More customers should be like him.

“It’s not that bad, it’s just… Noisy. And annoying. What I was trying to say was that it’s a very bold colour, so it would be best as an accent against a more baby-pink or white bouquet.”

The guy nodded at him, looking now only a little confused. He seemed to get the idea.

“I’ll show you what I mean, if you like. Here- let me just…” Rose got out from behind the counter again, this time bringing his handkerchief with him. He picked out some white flowers – delicate things, big fluffy ones, some light pink roses, and placed them in his demonstrative vase, adjusting them so they were just so.

“So this would be the base…” He said, then going to grab a few more bright flowers, some lilies, carnations, and chrysanthemums.

“And these would be- b…be… Please hold-” he handed the flowers to the customer hurriedly, at least able to prepare his handkerchief properly this time.

“HhpSSHhh!! HhiITSHhew-aahSHOo! Goodness… Excuse me.”

“Bless you, sounds like it’s hitting you hard.”

“It wasn’t this bad earlier, I swear- hhaPSSHHh!!”

Rose sniffled pathetically, muffling a cough into his kerchief. “Sorry, I wouldn’t want you to catch this. Would you just- just put those in the vase?”

The guy followed Rose’s instructions, then the Brit adjusted the positioning of the brightly-coloured flowers so they didn’t overpower the rest of the bouquet.

“Like that. Is that sort of what you were looking for?”

“I don’t really know what I’m looking at, but, uh, yeah? It looks like a real bouquet, way better than what you pick up from the superstore.”

Rose nodded, hiding his streaming nose behind the now thoroughly-used white cloth. “Those bloody places… You know they use dye in the water to make their flowers different colours? Poor things, it’s not that hard to breed other strains… Anyway, thank you for the compliment! It’s words like that that make it all worth it.”

Giddy from the kind words about his work, Rose happily took payment for the bouquet, finished it up, and wrapped it in acetate and coloured tissue paper.

“I hope your m-muhh- hhGTShh! GgsHHh! -snf!- Mother-in-law likes it!”

“Thanks a ton, feel better!”

Rose deflated when he heard the bell on the door signify the customer was gone. How exhausting - and he wasn’t even a troublemaker!

He decided to rummage in his drawers to see if they had any medicine, brows furrowing as each one came up empty.

“Well, shite.” He cursed, blowing his ever-running nose again. He took a handkerchief from the piles in the store and made a note to write it off - it was at this moment he regretted making them scented. He wasn’t allergic to perfume or scents, but his nose was so sensitive from this accursed cold that-

“HhaPSSHHh!! PPSHhew-aashHiiee-iiISHHhoo! Hhat-TSSshh-SSHh-SSHHew! Oh my god!”

His eyes were watering now, and he dabbed at them with a dry corner of the cloth. Is this how Cactus felt when he gave him his number?

Speaking of Cactus, maybe he could swing by some medicine, maybe a box or two of tissues… Rose was fairly certain that if he kept using his handkerchief, his nose would violently protest all day long.

‘Morning sweetie 🥰🌹’ he sent the text. Cac had not long taught him how to use emojis, and he had great fun choosing the right ones for the occasion.

A few minutes later, he got a reply:

‘mornin, what’s up?’

‘I don’t always text when I want something from you, do I? 🗣️’

‘not always, you just sayin hi? heheh hi there cutie’

‘Well… Maybe a little more than just saying ‘hello’. Could you pop over with some paracetamol and tissues, dear? It’s not a big deal, I just can’t leave the shop unattended.’

‘ur sick?’

‘Just a sniffle.’

‘yeah, sure it is. gimme 20.’

‘Love you, dearest. 💓’

“There we are. I hope he doesn’t worry himself silly.” Rose spoke aloud to himself, noting the stuffy and almost gravelly nature of his voice. Gods, he really did sound worse than he felt. He sniffed experimentally and found that instead of dripping, one nostril was now utterly blocked.

His nose felt hot and itchy and- wait, like something was moving? Oh- he squished his nostrils up against the new handkerchief to find that it was starting to run, even while supposedly blocked. How kind.

Ugh, and the proximity to the perfumed cloth-

“hhaPTSH!! AahYISHH! Ha… Hhhuua-AIITSHHhew! My giddy aunt, I can’t stop sneezing… Maybe toilet paper will just have to do for now… This blasted scent is too much…”

Rose sipped at his tea, but even the warmth from that couldn’t stop a shiver washing over him, then another stuffy attempt at a sniffle. A mistake, perhaps, as it stoked the embers of a tickle in his nose into flames, and he ducked into a wad of toilet roll, scratchy against his red nostrils.

“iiHhaPTSHHew! AAESHOO!! …Guh… Unsightly…”

Another shiver to make him cross his arms, and he pulled up a chair at the counter. He wasn’t usually one to use it, since he always had something or other to be getting on with, but… His arms hurt, his chest ached from sneezing, and he couldn’t seem to get warm. Was the central heating on the blink, or something?

…He couldn’t be bothered to go check. He’d need all his energy for if a customer came in, to put on a smile and save face. For now, though, with soft jazz playing as his store's ambient music, he found himself zoning out. Then his eyes started to flutter closed. He had things he should be doing, really, but… He just ached so much, and he was cold. Moving would lose him the warmth he tried so hard to gain.

The bell chimed, signifying an entrant, and Rose jumped, quickly wiped his nose, and opened his mouth to greet them.

“Hey, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?” came a low voice, warm like spiced honey.

Oh, he could cry. What an angel. What a darling. Here to save the day.

“Cac…”

“So… Just a sniffle, huh? Sure looks like it.” The blond approached with an eye roll, then side eyeing the flowers surrounding them, “You’re lookin’ pretty under the weather. Glad I trusted my gut.”

“What do you-” Rose was interrupted by a bag being set down on the counter in front of him.

“Stopped by a pharmacy, thought you might need some more actual supplies. Go on, you can look.”

Rose took things out one at a time: cold medicine, thank goodness, a decongestant spray, cough drops, several boxes of tissues…

“Aloe vera? You’re a saint.”

Cac laughed at that, “I just know what you’re like. Keep lookin’.”

Wait, why was the bag warm?

He pulled out a watertight container with a thick liquid in it, and blinked at his boyfriend.

“You got me soup?”

“The, uh… It’s… There’s a place right by the pharmacy, so it wasn’t outta my way or nothin’, and it smelled pretty good, so… Got you their soup of the day… Figured you probably hadn’t eaten. It’s minestrone.”

“It’s perfect. You didn’t have to do this for me- god, I’m going to cry…” Rose’s throat tightened, hot tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn’t exaggerating.

“H-Hey, don’t-! Uh- I can’t take it back, but- I brought this stuff to make you feel better!”

Scrubbing his eyes to wipe away the tears, Rose spoke with a wobbly voice, “I’m touched, dear… You’ve done so much for me…”

Cactus’s large blonde eyebrows furrowed in worry at this, “You’re pretty emotional, you must be feelin’ like shit… Just gonna check somethin’, okay?”

That was all the warning Rose had before a hand was placed on his forehead, which then moved to his cheek, under his chin, and finally, behind his neck.

“You’re runnin’ a fever.” the larger man concluded with a frown.

“Explains why it’s so bloody cold in here…”

“Yeah, cause it’s not. You always got the heatin’ on. But, uh… Look, you take your meds, do what you need to. Want tea?”

Rose motioned to his half-full mug, “I’m good on that front, but thank you.”

Cactus nodded and pulled his coat off, hanging it over Rose’s shoulders like he was some sort of heated coat stand.

“Put that on.”

“Cactus, no- I’ll get my germs all on it, and you’ll…”

“No ifs, ands, buts, or coconuts. Boyfriend cold. Boyfriend get coat. Gonk get club, ooga booga, whatever.”

Rose couldn’t help but snort with laughter, hurriedly plucking out a fresh and blissfully soft tissue to clean himself up. His cold wouldn't even let him laugh without making a mess of him?!

The redhead blushed when he lowered the tissue to find Cactus smiling at him warmly.

“W-What, do I have something on my face, or…?”

“Nah, just thinkin’ bout how cute you are.”

“In this state?!”

“Hell yeah.”

Instead of frying his brain further to think up a retort, the Brit instead busied himself with taking pills and opening his soup. He couldn’t smell it, but it looked totally homemade. He’d need to bug Cactus about the exact location of the restaurant later. He took a spoonful of it, the flavours experienced even through his dulled senses.

“…Sorry it ain’t, uh… I mean- if I knew earlier, I woulda made some soup for ya myself, but for you to actually ask me for help, I wasn’t gonna make ya wait…”

“Oh, stop apologising, you silly thing. This is delicious, it’s perfect. You can make me your soup next time, I’m sure this stupid body of mine won’t leave it too long before the next bout of illness…”

“How, uh… How long have you known you’ve been feelin’ bad?”

“It came on this morning, so it’s only really been a couple of hours.”

“So fast? You’re in for a rough one, huh… Hey, see if your cousin can cover you the next few days. Got a feelin’ you’re gonna need the rest.”

“I couldn’t do that to hiih-.. hii…iihhm- hhiIESSHOOO!!” He’d managed to move the soup away just in time, thanking the stars for his increasingly dramatic hitches.

”Oh my god, bless you! Geez, that was one hell of a sneeze! They all been like that?”

“Ow…. Owowow…. Not all, but they’ve been pretty strong…”

“Yeah, you’re definitely gonna need to take some sick days, jeez… Thought you were gonna fall off your chair!”

Rose spluttered, cheeks further reddening, “I-It wasn’t that big…”

“Are you kiddin’ me? Your usual sneezes are quiet, rapid, and there’s, like, loads of ‘em.”

“Well, I suppose ‘loads’ is still right… It’s just… Teasing me!”

“…Mm, I know that feelin’.” Cac rubbed at his own nose, smiling knowingly when he saw Rose’s eyes widen at the action.

‘I know what you are.’ said his grin.

“I’m… I… Suppose you would, wouldn’t you… Hhu-uuh- hhaAH-!”

“hhrRSSHHHOOOoh!”

Cactus’s booming sneeze interrupted the redhead, giving a cough and a sigh before paying full attention again.

“Jeez, sorry. All these flowers, then… Seein’ you all itchy made me feel itchy…”

Rose was silent for a moment, as if he was in shock, then groaned.

“You stole my sneeze away!”

“Scared it off, huh?” Cac sniffled, “Hey, uh… Why don’t you, uh, close for lunch? Sure would suck if someone walked in while you were tryna eat your soup…”

Rose looked up at him, mind foggy and thoughts muddled. It took him a moment to connect why his boyfriend was talking so suspiciously, and why he had a slightly nervous look on his face.

“F-Feel free to flip the sign and lock the door, sweetheart. It would be awkward if that were to happen, after all…” He dabbed at his drippy nose and kept eating. Even if Cac was suggesting what he thought he was, Rose didn’t want this soup to go to waste.

“Maybe we should go to the staff room, too… These flowers are really startin’ to get to me.” The American commented, enjoying the shiver that ran through Rose’s body, one he knew wasn’t from the fever.

“Is that so… Poor thing, so allergic. Tragic that this is my job, mmm?”

“Is it tragic? Could be worse if you found my allergies super gross, or something…”

Rose picked up his box of soup and a handful of tissues and brought them to the staff room. Cactus followed after locking the door, picking up everything else left behind. Rose was already burying his face into a new tissue with a wet, honking blow, followed by hitches, and hitches, and… Nothing.

Sympathy gripped Cac’s heart, to see Rose succumbing to his cold so quickly had him wanting nothing more than to hold his boyfriend close, to stroke his hair. To help him along.

He took a seat next to the redhead, rubbing his back, “I really did scare it off, huh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s… Guh, it’s okay… You didn’t mean to. They’re my flowers, after all…”

“You finish up that soup, then I’ve got an idea.” The shorter man stood up again, making his way to a nearby shelving unit. It was there that he found a feather duster - real feathers, and real dust.

This, of course, would be overkill, so he carefully pulled out a single feather from the bunch. It would help Rose just the same.

Only when the sick brit had his fill of his lunch did Cactus approach him again, nerves twisting his stomach.

“This, uh… I wanna try and help you, but if I go too far…”

“I’ll tell you.” Rose assured him, a smile on his face, “Believe me, I won’t be quiet about it.”

He scrunched up his nose again, clearly very itchy. Shaking his head again in irritation, he scrubbed at his nose with his knuckles.

“Gghghghh-!! God, this is driving me crazy. If I’m going to sneeze, then just do it, you know? Bloody thing…”

“Heh, uh, that’s… Well…”

Cactus brandished the feather in front of him.

“Oh, I see your game plan, big boy.”

Without further words, Cactus traced the feather flat against Rose’s nostrils, watching them quiver and start to run at the new irritant. It didn’t stop the dust dislodging from the barbs at each tickly sniffle, and soon had Rose’s teary eyes shut as he hitched, and hitched, and…. Faded away again.

He groaned, so Cac tried another tactic – direct insertion. This time, his nose couldn’t dare fight back against the dusty, pointed, yet soft tip of the feather tickling what felt like every molecule of his nasal cavity.

“Hh-hhgh-eeh-!! C-Cactus, I’m going… Going to… HhaAAESSHOOOo!! AadsshhEW-AASHHHheEWw! Oh my god, sorry, please m-m-move- hhaSSHEW-ASSHHOO! ATTCHHOO! H-HAAAHH… AahSSHHYEWW!!”

As Rose finally sneezed over and over, rapidly, harshly, and spraying on anything in front of him, he couldn’t think of anything but the incredibly itchy tickle in his nose that had to get out, now.

Cactus didn’t care at all that he was being sneezed on. He signed up for this when formulating this plan, after all. If he caught it, he caught it, and since Rose would enjoy that anyway, it’s no loss.

He actually felt his cheeks warming as the man in front of him repeatedly lost control. Was this…?

He was definitely getting turned on by the situation in front of him, but he didn’t want to overdo things - Rose was clearly feeling awful, he didn’t have to deal with Cactus coming onto him as well.

Thoroughly a mess, Rose blinked up through tears at his boyfriend, barely able to read his expression.

“Bless you, holy shit… That’s one hell of a cold you caught.”

“It’s… H-ha-aah… HhuUUH-IISHhhEW!! Ghhwah… S-sou’ds worse-”

“-Than you feel, yeah. But I gotta say, it looks about as bad as you sound.” Cac tugged out a tissue from the box with one hand, cupping it over Rose’s very red and irritated nose.

“Blow. That’s it, good boy…”

He followed instructions. He was, after all, a good boy.

“Feelin’ any better?”

“Idt’s- snfk! … It’s not as itchy as it was before… My nose, that is. Still something up in there, like the cold’s doing a jig on my poor nerve endings, ready to set me off at any time…”

Cactus swallowed, trying hard not to stare as he pulled away the used tissue.

“That sensitive?”

Rose rubbed at his eyes as he nodded in return, “Mm-hhb.”

Cactus sighed. Poor thing, feeling so sick, and so suddenly… Stuck at work when tons of people were off for the holidays… He could make his-

“Hha-aah-KKSHhh!! HhaPTSHHYEWW!! Oh my god, see? Any bloody moment…”

-day better, at least? Focus, Cactus. Improving Rose’s day doesn’t automatically mean sex.

Rose had sneezed his glasses off the moment prior, the pair falling into Cac’s lap.

“Oh- fuck, I can’t see a thing…”

An exaggeration, but Rose’s lenses were pretty strong. Giving them a cursory wipe, Cac put them back on for him, trying to avoid hitting his nose with the bridge of his glasses, nostrils red and twitchy, like they had a mind of their own.

“Ah- thank you, sweetheart. Now I can see your handsome face properly. Ah- that being said, I’m… I’m so sorry, you’re going to catch this, and… It really is quite awful, you were right the whole time… And I’ve been sneezing all over you!”

“I made my peace with that ages ago. You…” Cac swallowed again, forcing himself to push through nerves and make eye contact with his boyfriend, “You know I don’t mind. Look, uh… So you don’t keep freakin’ out… Can I kiss ya? If it’s pretty much confirmed already, will you be able to relax a bit more?”

“I… I suppose it’s too late now, anyway…” Rose sniffled, then blew his nose again, “I’m stunned you’re not running a mile.”

“Shush, ain’t nothin’ could scare me off.” The blond closed the distance between the two, glasses bumping awkwardly as they kissed.

‘His mouth is hot. Fuck, that’s so sexy. It’s a fever though, behave.’

Mentally scolding himself didn’t do much to stop him, though, the intensity of the kiss growing deeper until Rose pulled away to breathe.

“…Hah… Phew… You’re doomed now, then- oh!”

At this point, Cactus was practically on Rose’s lap, and the Brit was staring down at him.

“Well, hello there,” Rose grinned, “Someone’s keen.”

Oh. Fuck. He had an erection, and it was definitely pushing up against his boyfriend.

“Shit- sorry, you’re sick, and- and all miserable, and- fuck, you don’t need this on top of everythi-”

Rose pulled him in for another kiss, this one needy and wanting and passionate.

“If I’m going to feel like this, why not enjoy it? I didn’t realise you got it this badly. Before, it was sort of… The situation. But this…? You’re finding me sneezing all over you sexy, mm? I should apologise, really. This is my fault…”

“Don’t… Don’t apologise, fuck… I wanna do it with ya, but… Feelin’ guilty as it is.” Cactus felt his face warming shamefully. He didn’t wanna be responsible for making his boyfriend worse.

“Orgasms can help clear your sinuses. Consider it a treatment, Doctor Asta.”

The shame Cactus had been feeling quickly left and was replaced with lust. Rose was as into this scenario as he was, it seemed.

“A treatment? Guess I’ll have to administer it for ya, then. It’d be cruel not to, right? Especially if my patient is askin’ it of me.”

A pause as he considered his next words.

“Do they turn you on?” He asked, “Your own sneezes, I mean.”

“It would be quite debilitating if they did, but… I have to admit, the grip this cold has on my poor nose is quite titillating…”

“Mm, it’s getting chapped already.”

“So the short answer is ‘no’, the long answer is ‘yes, sometimes, if I’ve got a big guy like you here to share them with’.”

Cactus grinned and kissed him again, “And ain’t ya glad I am?”

“Mm, awfully so. It’s quite the cold, you know… In a couple days’ time, you’ll be holed up in bed, I’m sure, making your way through several packets of tissues. Goodness, if it can make my sneezes this intense, I dare not think what it’ll do to yours…”

Cactus slid his hands up under Rose’s sweater vest to pull it off expertly, “We’ll just have to find out.”

“Ehehe… Mm, your hands are cool…”

“Your skin is hot. Only you could run a fever the first day of a cold.” Cac removed his boyfriend’s shirt as well, not bothering to unbutton it. His own hoodie was discarded swiftly after, Rose watching hungrily as more of Cac’s brown skin and white vitiligo was shown.

“My god, I love you… You’re everything… I just want to kiss all these… These gorgeous marks all over your body…”

“Mm, yeah? You’ll have a tough time.”

“Why?”

“I’ll be too busy kissin’ all your freckles.”

As if to prove his point, Cactus started placing butterfly kisses on Rose’s cheeks, then his shoulders, which made the Brit giggle.

“S-pff-Stoooop, that tickles! Okay, okay, you win! I give! Haah… Phew…” Rose coughed lightly and pushed his glasses back up his nose, then quickly returned to touching his boyfriend’s torso. Then lower, and lower… So soft, so warm. Even with a fever, Rose’s hands struggled to retain heat, so he loved to steal it from him.

“You playin’ with my tummy, or are we having sex?” Cactus questioned, tone light, “Though, if you’re having second thoughts-”

“Nope! No such thing! You really think I’d decide, ‘no, actually, I don’t want to have hot kinky sex with my boyfriend’? If that happens, call a demon hunter, because that’s a changeling.”

Now that was taken care of, Cactus traced his own hands over Rose’s sensitive body, cock twitching whenever his boyfriend reacted, whimpered, or whined.

“I… I want you inside me, Cactus…” The redhead pleaded.

A nod. “Mm, good choice. Wouldn’t want ya wearin’ yourself out.”

“Lube’s in… In the drawer… Second one down, under the- the… HhaPPSSHIEW!! …The plant encyclopedia… We don’t really use that book, so… It’s a good place…”

Cactus blessed him as easily as he breathed, following instructions to find the small bottle underneath a deceptively large book. Who knew there were so many flowers?

“Okay, ya ready?” Cac poured out a small handful, warming it in his palms.

“I’mb- snf! -always ready for you, darling.”

Oh, the seduction of it all. And yet it still drove Cac crazy.

“Good boy. Pants off, and spread your legs for me.” Cactus praised him again, knowing how much Rose loved it. His commands were followed immediately, and he almost got distracted by how red and needy Rose’s cock looked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m goin’ in…”

He pushed a digit into Rose’s ass, eliciting a short gasp from the other man. Like the rest of his body, it was warm inside him, more than usual.

Expertly coating the inside before adding a second finger, Cac looked up at his boyfriend. He loved his expressions dearly, it was amazing how easily emotions showed on his face.

Just before he could add a third, Rose tensed, and tightened, and-

“Hhi-iih-… hiiih… Iih’SSHHEW!! IhpSSHh! Kktsh- hhaAH- AAHtsSHYEWW!!”

Cactus blinked, a deep blush growing on his cheeks. He wondered briefly what it was gonna feel like when he was actually inside Rose and he sneezed like that…

“…I, uh… Wow, bless you.”

“Guh, thank you, dear… This’ll be you, soon…”

“…Fingers in my ass, too?”

“If you want there to be.”

Once Rose was starting to squirm, greedily hoping that Cac’s fingers would hit his prostate, the blond pulled them out.

Rose whined.

“Just a sec, okay?” Cactus used his other hand to lube up his dick - not that it needed much help - and gently, carefully pushed in. Wiping his hands off on a nearby towel, he then held Rose’s waist, using the grip to start thrusting into him rhythmically.

God, it was so hot inside him, the sensation was incredible. They needed to fuck more often when they were sick, especially with Rose so eager.

“Just- nnh! T-tell me if… If it’s too much… I’ll stop whenever you-”

“Oh my god, Cactus Asta! If you stop, I’ll decimate you where you stand!!”

“Got it, no stoppin’.”

“Fffuck, I’ve missed this… I… Nnh… God, I love you… Hey, um…” Rose took his glasses off and haphazardly threw them on a nearby surface, “You can use that feather, if you want… It felt pretty… HhaANH~!! P-pretty good…! Maybe that’s an understatement, but-”

Before Rose could finish his sentence, Cac had needily grabbed the feather and was starting to tickle his lover’s sensitive nose with it, almost in a trance himself.

“W-Whoa- that’s… That’s reeeaahh… Really… HhaAH-!! HHAPt’TTSHHhewW! AAHGTSSHHOO! HH-…! …hhPSHHEW-AAHTSSHOO-AAYYIISHHHH!!”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, the way Rose clenched with each sneeze, the lack of any attempt to cover, spray glistening on Cac’s chest, it made the blond whimper with need.

“Nng-ghh… Bless you…” He swallowed the whine and almost growled instead, “Good boy… How’s your nose feeling?”

“Hhh… Hhgh-AAaahn..!! It’s… It’s itchy… snf! And drippy… Kind of sore… It’s hot, and that makes it tickle m-moohhre… And the… The d-dust… On that featherhh!! I-… I have to sneeeh… Eeehh… eeeze again…”

Rose was killing him here. He knew what it was like on the receiving end of this, so this teasing had to be on purpose…

It took one swipe of the feather under his quivering nostrils to set off another fit.

“HhaDSSHH! TTSHh-iiIISHh-iisHHEW! HHitSHh! Aah… Haaah… aaAATSSHYYEWW!! …Oh my god, this cold!”

Cac pulled him close, hugging Rose while thrusting into him now. It took all his self control not to bite the taller man, and he choked out another blessing.

“Nngh~ Cac, it’s driving me c-crazy- and… And… Ah- there!!” Rose called out, arms wrapping around his lover. He left scratch marks on Cactus’s back as he grabbed needily at him, something he would have to rub ointment into later.

Cactus kissed him again, fucking deeply and rhythmically, “There, baby?”

“MmhaaAAH~!”

“Yeah, that’s it…! Fuck- you’re so tight, so hot, I can barely take it! I… NnGGgh…” Cactus squeezed his eyes shut, starting to become overstimulated. He could hold out, but…

“Whatever you do, Rose… Nnhah… Don’t sneeze… O-or… Or I’ll cum…”

“What-?!”

As hot as that statement was, Rose couldn’t help but question it.

“I… You know me, how on earth do you expect me to not s-sneeze when I’m… I… T-this cold, it’s… And the dusty feather you-”

Cactus dropped the feather and clamped his hand over Rose’s mouth in panic.

“D-don’t-…!”

A mistake, as Rose then had to breathe through his nose, and with the dust from the feather now on Cactus’s hand…

“Mmgh-mmn!!” The Brit tried to warn him, but it was too late. Even if Cac pinched his nose now, it wouldn’t help. Tension built between the two, of the blonde trying to hold back his orgasm, and the redhead, his oncoming fit.

Slowly, worriedly, Cac removed his hand, allowing Rose to properly hitch.

“I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’…”

“Hh-hhiIIH-!! I-it’s… It’s okay… B-but I don’t thiiiIIHHh!! …think I can h-hold back… for very long.”

All the while, they were still fucking at a good pace.

“M-Me neither… Fffffuck, is this what you were feelin’ the whole time? How the hell is it s-so- so niche?”

“Let’s not get into the iiih… HhaAH…! …ins and outs of… Fetish distribution right now…”

“R-Right, right…”

“Oh god, Cactus, I’m… I’m g-going to… Hhaa-AAah! Hh-iitSHHhhYEW!! aahTSSH-kktSHHh! Kktssh-SSHHYOOo!! HhaPTSSHHeww! Ohmygod-HHITSSHh! Iitshh-sshh-tsSHHh!! C-can’t stop- AATSHhOOo! H-hhaa-AAPsSHH! GGHTSSHUUu!”

As warned, Cac couldn’t take it anymore, and came violently during Rose’s fit. His partner was driven over the edge himself at the feeling of being filled while helplessly sneezing, making a mess of Cactus’s stomach.

“Oh… Oh my god… Fuck, bless you.” Cac panted, slowing down and pulling out of his lover, “Sorry for the mess inside ya… Couldn’t… Haah….”

“It’s… It’s okay… Wow…” Rose coughed, wheezing from the exertion, “I… Phew… Think I need my inhaler…”

Cactus fumbled around the desk until he felt a familiar plastic shape, then pressed it into Rose's hands, “I… hah~ I got it…”

After gratefully taking a couple of puffs and feeling his lungs settle down, he felt something in his nose shift as well, and took a cursory sniff. “Oh, hey! See, I told you orgasms are a decongestant!”

“You sure did. When I get this cold’a yours, you wouldn't mind, uh, givin’ that treatment to me, wouldya? Got a feelin’ I'm gonna need it.”

#snz fic #dye ocs #i love these two so very much #it feels like a sort of tradition that when i get sick i have to inflict my own symptoms onto a character #i partially wrote this last time i had a cold #and im finishing it now im sick again HAHAHA #bullying Rose hours is just so real #that being said im running off very little sleep so if you see mistakes. no you didnt.#i dont know when exactly this takes place but it's after cac knows about the kink and just about after he gains it himself #so much fun to deal with his emotions like oh shit. wait. what. really? this? damn #anyway time to stop stalling and actually post this thing

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eldritch-spouse · 23 hours ago

Note

Someone who gets locked up by Stitches and is delighted… until they realise what a sop Patches is and bully him when they realise he’s not like his other side

[Going from Headless Horseman to Premature E-Jack-O'-Lantern. 😔]

TW: Ball busting; Mild humiliation

He was convinced it was something Stitches did.

It must be, right?

You seemed... Vaguely excited when Patches scurried over to tend to you. After all, it was your first day in his care, he knows Stitches wasn't caring enough to put the blankets in your cage before he shoved you inside. You must be sore! Hungry! Thirsty! All those things he hardly feels anymore.

And yet, the more he tried to interact with you, tend to you with all the love you deserve, the more your frown deepened. You looked at him like he was some sort of gross abomination.

Which... Fair, he supposes. He's far from pretty.

What in the Hell did you do to her?!

He inwardly asked, receiving the mental equivalent of a disinterested shrug from his faraway other.

Patches shakes slightly, deciding he should prod now that he's ordered something for you to eat.

It's not even that you look particularly afraid. That's not what's causing you to reject him. You seem confused and disappointed by something. By him, possibly. And that's eating a hole into his rotted heart.

The dullahan sits in front of your cage, plate on one hand, while the other unlocks the door with a key that he pulls out of his own socket. You make no real movements, only continuing to gaze at him quizzically.

The plate, containing a sandwich, natural juice, and some variety of cracker, is slid towards you almost fearfully. It's as if he's the one terrorized, undead heart jumpstarting in a green chest only to return to its atrophied slouch.

" ... What happened to you? "

Probably the longest thing you've said to the monster thus far, he perks up, even with the sneer wrinkling your face.

" W- What do you mean? " He's been scratching his arm for a while. The skin would have rashed if he was alive.

You squint, leaning in. " Last night you swooped me onto a horse by the ass, brought me to this shithole to torment and- and... " He notes the way you gulp. " Fuck with me, toss me in this ratty cage! But today you can barely look me in the eyes?! "

" I- That... That wasn't exactly me. "

Patches nearly wrings his fingers apart from the way you drop your head into your hands and mutter some type of obscenity. This isn't easy to explain, but deep down, it's not you knowing about it that he's truly afraid of.

" Shut the f- "

" I'm being serious. " Patches attempts to get your attention with your name. " Ever since I died, I have shared this body with him. The moon beckons him out, and I have no control over what happens until daylight breaks. We're different people, I'm sure you've noticed that. "

A moment of silence unfurls where he assumes you're processing the information, taking a bite out of the rather generous sandwich. Surely, you must believe him. Him and Stitches are fundamentally different in the way they act, let alone their physical mannerisms. His head shifts, Stitches has no eye-lights, let alone the ability to speak normally!

The silence is suffocating.

" I didn't plan our first meeting like this. He got impatient. But you don't have to be scared, I'm here now and things will be better- "

" So, I'm stuck with you now? "

Patches can't read your face anymore. It instills a dread in him that might have stolen a living person's breath.

" Am I not better than him? "

Nothing could convince him you actually want Stitches around you for more than five minutes.

You swallow another mouthful of bread, cheese and ham. " You're pathetic. "

Maybe another monster in his place would have lost their cool. They might have snapped at you, rattled you out of your cage and ripped away the food you've just been offered. If nothing else, they'd feel offended and hurt.

Patches has heard those words one too many times to feel anything but a mild sense of shame. It figures you'd say them too. The undead still hates the part of himself that makes magic settle on his cheeks, pooling there in a buzz of disgusting approval. He is pathetic.

" Don't... Say that. " The smallest whisper there ever was.

Something like a huff of irritation leaves you. The monster watches you slide away the plate, coming closer to the cage's entrance.

" Let me out. "

Alarm bells chime through the undead's timidity, causing him to further crowd you in. " I can't do that yet, firefly, you're not in the right mind. "

" I don't care, move. "

He never expected you to be this confrontational. Patches had seen much of your behavior when he stalked around the places you frequently visit, even your home. He'd catalog you and your attitudes, drawing patterns between them and assembling what he thought was a mostly accurate portrait of your person, the faces you put on throughout life. None of it made him infer that you'd be this brave in such a situation, but then again, you never truly know until you corner someone.

Some part of his higher thought process shuts off when your arms land on his chest. He registers you pushing, trying to get him out of your way. A pointless effort. Not because you can't force him back, but rather because you're trapped in a bigger trap- The entirety of The Clergy's Eye. Patches can't seem to care in the moment however, suddenly taken by the smell of you this close, the way your hair looks so soft. He relishes the warmth of such simple contact and pretends, for just a second, that you're reaching out, instead of shoving.

" You- You really should finish your meal, you're disoriented- "

" Fucking move! "

There's a harsher shove, he's now holding onto the cage's bars, panic written all over that gourd face.

" Please just eat- "

" No! "

" Please... "

Finally, with a harsh pound of fists against his chest, you manage to make the dullahan tumble onto his back. The impact does not cause Patches any pain, he simply offers a wide-eyed gawk when you loom. Disheveled, you're a sight of wonders for the monster, irritation and something mischievous brewing on that pretty pretty face.

" Or what? " You mock. " Will you just cry 'please' like a baby? Please don't, please eat- How annoying. "

The undead sputters, newfound sparks of arousal not allowing him to keep up.

" Man, this is just sad. At least the other guy had a spine. "

That does get him slightly agitated. " ... Stitches will hurt you. "

" Stitches? " There's a pause. " What is that, like a clown name? "

The undead blinks, stupefied when you merely move to stand atop him, feet to either side of his midsection. Although you're clothed in the same pants and shirt with which you were taken last night, the fabrics themselves have sustained all manner of scrapes and tears, revealing strips of bare skin that Patches studies with far too much attention. He longs for nothing more than your contact right now. You're so close too, between a hug and a kick, does it truly differ?

The door is right there, to a dark hall which would take you to an elevator. Sure, it's warded shut, but you'd never know that. The fact that you haven't made a break for it yet is fascinating to Patches. In this moment, you are as much the love of his undeath as you a most interesting specimen.

" Matter of fact, what even is your name?! "

" Patches. " He murmurs, more focused on the swell of your thighs, how they slope and climb to the mounds on your chest, before reaching your complexion.

" Are you fucking serious right now? " Barely contained hysteria settles on your features, to which he really has no response.

Patches knows he had a name at some point, a real name. A name not uncommon in the country he hails from, with a meaning that he understood. The years blend together however, decades upon decades of his tired brain ruminating, neither him nor the other remember his name. Stitches never had a name to begin with. He doesn't even remember why he called himself Patches, why he called Stitches Stitches. Not that he ever felt his identity matters that much. If he spent his living years ridiculed and unrecognized, why should he care for that same recognition now that he's well past death? He could have called himself Peaches, for all he cares.

" N-No. "

A bark of laughter erupts from you. He'd call it jolly, if not for the fact that you're clearly caving to the stresses of your current predicament. Nevertheless, it's a melodic, entrancing sound that has him nearly melting further into the floor. Even your cruelty is so beautiful.

" I love you. " He babbles.

The words must have been hard to capture over your little episode, but you hear them well enough, freezing. The look of suspicion you cast down at him is as mildly offending as it is justified, really. He finds your demeaning smirk wobbling into something a little more genuine and bashful, for the shortest of moments, before you force it back on.

" Alright, get me out. This is ridiculous. "

" I can't, firefly. " He repeats, starting to get a bit comfortable under you. Enough to swoon. " You'll be by my side now. "

Silence.

" I- I promise it's not so bad in here. I'll give you everything you want, I just need you to know how much I love you. Th- "

He couldn't possibly have expected your next quip.

" Let me out or I'll grind your balls into a fine dust. "

From the intense challenge in your eyes to the sudden lift of a scuffed boot between his legs, there's no indication that you're bluffing. Nor is there any reflexive move from Patches to so much as shield his genitals, let alone scoot away.

In fact, the only thing the dullahan does is flush furiously, silently, expectantly almost, regarding you.

The meaning isn't lost on you, eyes widening. " Are- Oh my God, you fucking pervert, you actually want that?! "

" N- No no, I don't... " Even he recognizes that sounded pathetically weak.

The sole of your footwear applies the slightest amount of pressure to his pants, where he'd already began stiffening to attention. He whimpers, but much to your shock, only hastens his breath.

" What is actually wrong with you? "

Don't ask him questions you don't want the answer to.

" You know I'll still do it right? I'll make sure they never work again if you don't get me out of here right now. "

He allows the chuckle that had been tickling his throat to escape, giving you nothing short of a lovelorn lunatic's gaze.

You couldn't, even if you wanted, realistically damage him permanently. Patches has been mutilated and torn apart so often and so diversely, yet he'll always somehow end up back together. Never in your wildest dreams would you be able to conceive of genital trauma that would achieve such.

" Oh firefly, the things I've already gone through, you can try- "

Must have hit a nerve there, because you stomp his nuts hard enough to rip a throatful of a scream from the monster.

" -HHRRNG- "

He has to gasp, something typically useless to an undead, to help the pain pass through his body. The dullahan's legs tremble as he curls on himself like a dying bug, feeling his balls writhe in agony even as his cock swells to a full mast.

You're actually a tad stronger than he predicted, honestly.

" I'm sorry, you were saying? "

" Nothing- N-Nothing! "

A lazy foot nudges Patches onto his back again, and there's truly no concealing the pool of precum staining his pants. He's not just hard, he's pulsing. Then again, the way these encounters are so uncommon for Patches, he's surprised he hasn't come yet.

" Ew, really? Huh. "

You seem to be appraising what he has to offer, which makes the undead sweat magic down his forehead. Is he good enough for you?

" Pull it out. " The monster blinks. " Go on, I want to see how much you can take. "

He's not sure if it's the promise of further 'experimenting' from your part, or the half-amused look on your face, but he feels sick sort of happiness to be holding your attention thus far. You're not thinking about Stitches or leaving when you're hurting him, and that's good enough.

Patches does as told, pulling his clothes down to his knees. While his undead skin takes a lot longer to bruise, there's certainly an irritated tint to the area you just mercilessly smashed. His own somewhat veined cock twitches uselessly on his belly.

" P- Please go easy- "

" No. "

The next crash downward is so intense that he feels shudders of hot and cold race through his form, limbs spasming and head conking against the stone floor when you deliberately grind his balls to what he presumes must be a paste by now. In the throes of pain surge crests of pleasure he can't hope to contain, pulling an agonized moan from deep in the dullahan's chest. His vision falters and he rolls his hips into the oppressing force of your foot, a tremulous inhale following.

" Ssstop- Stop, I'll... "

" Come? " You snort. " Figures you're a little quickshot. I wonder if he's also into this. "

Stitches? No, Patches wouldn't bet on it.

He's not sure what compelled you, probably morbid curiosity, but you don't heed his warning. When the undead expected another stomp, he surprisingly feels a kick, the force of which having him spit dryly.

He twists on the floor, body tensing and contracting with a mixture of horribly intense stimulus that, embarrassingly, sends him over the edge. Patches orgasms hard, this cry somewhere between desperate sobbing and choked whimpering ringing across the walls while his poor cock pulses uselessly, making a mess of his own skin and clothes. He knows he was pent up, but he doesn't register that some of his release coated your boot.

In fact, Patches is too busy deflating on the floor to focus on much of anything, all but nearly purring when you casually wipe the shoe on his pants.

The dullahan melts into a one-sided afterglow, and although mortifying shame is slowly creeping up to him, he can't help but think this is an okay start. In spite of your rather vicious actions, he swears he spotted just the faintest hints of fond amusement in you. And if things continue this way, the undead is sure he can inspire love for him within you. He just needs to be persistent.

" Hey. "

You start, already a decent distance away from him. The dullahan shakes his head, and the fog of post-orgasmic painful bliss, finding you crouched in front of a large tube containing a half-formed bobble submerged by its growth solution.

You poke the glass.

" What's this weird thing? Come on, get up, show me around this dump. "

He may be lying on the cold floor, stained with his own cumshot and with sore balls, but he can't help the little smile on his face.

" Hhhn, in a minute. "

Yes, things might just end up fine.

#Patches oc

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