#yes i realize all my self-notes are just??? whatever ???? whatever is going on in this brain

[popamolly]

‘INTERNAL REDEMPTION’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

summary. (y/n) continues to spy on Lucifer, preying on the little vulnerability that allows he allows (y/n) to see. Unbeknownst to both of them there is something blossoming with each conversation and shared stolen glance.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR

warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, eventual smut, mention of death, slow burn, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder, slow burn, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. italics is for a flashback, just wanted to let everyone know if that isn’t made clear in the text, i finished this up at like 2am. enjoy sinners <3

Lucifer held you captive with his words for hours. Explaining everything you wanted to know about him and his army of ducks. That wall was slowly crumbling as was his resolve. Though that seemed to be in the back of your mind as you found yourself intrigued by him and his story— ultimately finding out that the King of Hell was actually quite charming in his way.

“So these ducks are a manifestation of sinners,” You look toward him as if to confirm his words and when Lucifer nodded you continued, “Every sinner in Hell? No wonder you have so many.”

“And this isn’t even half of it,” Lucifer smiles proudly as he hops up from his chair, gesturing toward the rubber duck piles that almost reached the ceiling, “There are more at my amusement park.”

“I see, I guess I am just trying to understand why ducks of all things?”

“Spiritual progression? Rebirth? New beginnings?” Lucifer taps his chin in thought before shrugging, “A mere duck can mean a lot of different things that’s why, plus they are cuuuuteee!”

You laugh, a real genuine laugh, which was a sound you haven’t made in a long while. The King wasn’t so bad once you got know him. If anything he was an ideal king that you would read stories about. You wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk for hours more.

“What?” Lucifer got a bit self conscious, realizing that his excitement might have came off a bit nerdy or childish, “It’s silly isn’t it?”

You shake your head to ease his insecurities with a lopsided smile, “No, I just had this version of you in my head and seeing you now, in person..it's completely changed now that I have met you.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” Lucifer chuckles. He fiddling with the top of his cane as if he was scared to meet your gaze.

“It is.” And for a moment you forgot why you were here. If you had to chose between the V’s and Lucifer when it came to deciding Hell’s fate, Lucifer would win by a landslide— but Lucifer wasn’t the one who owned your soul, “Tell me more about Charlie. Your face lights up whenever you speak of her.”

“She is my pride and joy!” Lucifer boasts proudly, “She has this whole Hotel thing going on apparently. I’ve been poppin’ in here and there to help her ya know, being an awesome dad and whatnot.”

“And what of this hotel?” You ask, leaning a bit closer to Lucifer as if he would tell you a secret, “Does she really believe that she can redeem sinners?”

“Yes, she…she does,” Lucifer sighs after a moment, turning away from you to run his fingers through his golden hair. A heavy weight clearly on his shoulders as he thought of his daughter and her fairytale like dreams for Hell. It hurt his heart to know that he couldn’t do more for her. He knew he could make whatever dream of hers come true except for the one she wanted most. This was a whole other thing entirely. This was something between Hell and Earth and the lines have always been blurred— he would never be able to cross it even he wanted to.

“You don’t sound too sure..” You chose your words carefully. There was a tiny crack in his wall of vulnerability and you wanted to crack it some more, “Do you doubt Charlie?”

“No no no! Pfffft, Of course not!” Lucifer quickly says before sighing in defeat, raking his fingers through his blonde hair, “I don’t doubt her..I just— I don’t think she understands the weight of what she is trying to do. I just l don’t want her to end up hurt over this.”

“If all else fails then she will know that you were there for her,” You say, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “All you have to do is believe in her, even if you don’t believe in her dreams.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Lucifer turned to look at you. A split moment in time where the world seemed to stop and it was just you and him. Your words might have came from your own selfish need to stay on Valentino’s good side but your kindness remained true. It became clear to you that the King was nothing more than a prideful man that was trying his best. Not only for his daughter but himself and for Hell. In the short time that you knew him it was something that you quickly learned to admire, “Yes, well,” Lucifer clears his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly under your intense gaze, “Thank you for the company. It was nice to…open up a bit.”

“Of course, your majesty,” You nod, taking that as your cue to leave the King to his Kingly duties as the time you two spent together had made day turn to night in an instant, “I will leave you to your duties.”

“Right! My duties! I am a very very busy man! So many souls to collect, tons of sinners to kill, people to torture, the list just goes on…haha!” Lucifer wanted to jump out of his own skin and slap himself silly. Curse him for his rambling, why did he even feel the need to impress you? A lowly sinner that meant absolutely nothing to him.

“if you ever need a friend or,” Your fingertips grazes the doorknob to his bedchambers with the tray of empty plates in the other arm, “…A listening ear, you always call upon me.” Offering one last smile in the King's direction, you slip out into the hall, closing the door behind you softly.

Lucifer couldn’t help but feel how his room suddenly felt cold now that your warm presence was gone. There was a certain emptiness in the air that reminded him he was truly lonely. \

“So the King of Hell’s daughter wasn’t joking about the redemption of sinners,” Vox sneers over the tiny screen of the voxtech watch he gave you, “And whatever the reason for the Radio Demon to be by Charlie’s side, it surely only benefits him.” The watch screen slightly glitches from Vox laughing, “Redemption of sinners?! How stupid is that?”

“It could be possible,” You say, making the watch on your wrist glitch some more.

“If I wanted your opinion bitch, I would ask for it!” The static noise was starting to ring in your ears, its material overheating in the palm of your hand, “Whatever the case is, I need you sucking Lucifer’s dick by next week if we are going to get any valuable information out of him, do you understand me?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes from feeling guilty about getting close to Lucifer under such circumstances. Your paths should have never even crossed. You both might be in hell but you were in entirely different worlds. There was this unspoken connection you two shared the moment your eyes met and it was just enough to get the guilt eating away at you.

“Or do I have to tell Valentino that his favorite obedient girl is being defiant?”

“No, I—”

“Good, I’m so glad we have an understanding. Now go get me some actually good information I can fucking use!” With that Vox hung up the call, making you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You toss the watch to the floor angrily, dropping your head into your hands. This was all just a stupid pointless mission. One that had no satisfying end or results because there was nothing to say. There was nothing to report back. The King, Charlie, and those around him was plotting to do more good than harm.

You leaned over to turn the faucet off, stopping the hot water from filling the porcelain tub completely after nearly overflowing it from being too lost in your thoughts.

Slowly, you began to slip out of your clothes, neatly folding them and putting them aside before stepping into the hot water, the stinging pain hardly anything you would flinch from. That stinging pain felt good, it reminded you that you were present in the moment even when you wanted nothing more than to just to disappear.

Closing your eyes to relax, you sink deeper and deeper into the water until you felt your mind slowly drift elsewhere.

With a melodic hum, you turned the page to your book, intrigued by the ancient text and words of God. Surrounding you were scrolls and other relics that you stole from the council’s library, eager to learn more about God and his mysterious ways. It was all you could do in Heaven after all, live blissfully but you were bored of that. Instead of thriving off the golden city’s pleasures you always found your head in a book, a simply pleasure that you’ve grown to love.

“Boo!” Lucifer suddenly pops down in front of you. Startled, you toss your book up, which he catches with ease, “What ya reading?”

“God’s texts Lulu, what else?” You try to grab your book from him but he holds it above your head, slowly inching upward with the help of his wings to show that he was taller than you. He wasn’t but you’d like to humor him every now and again, “Lucifer! Give it back!”

“Wouldn’t you much rather see the gift I brought you instead of reading a boring book?” Lucifer wiggled his eyebrows in jest, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“A Gift?” You stopped jumping for your book then, your wings tucked back into you with a curious glint in your eyes. Lucifer gave dramatic pause before presenting you a green apple. He tossed it to you and you caught it in your delicate hands, smiling at the kind gesture. “An apple, how romantic.”

“Is it not to your liking?” Lucifer played along with your teasing remark, circling around you as he playfully grabs and twist your hair around his fingers in such a loving way that it had your heartbeat quickening and you breath falling short, "I thought I'd give you something a little bit more nontraditional."

It took everything in your power not to swoon over a damn apple because it wasn't just an apple to you. Lucifer would go out of his way to bring you things whenever you two would meet up at your secret spot under a new sprouting tree. There was something sparking between you two and you weren't sure how long you would be able to avoid it as you were a hopeless romantic. Lucifer had such a way with words that whenever he spoke it was if he was building palaces- cathedrals even. Between that and that charming warm smile, you knew you wouldn't be able to deny your feelings for much longer but until he admitted it first you weren't going to say anything. Call it stubbornness but you simply didn't want to be mistaken and absolutely sure that your feelings for him were one hundred percent reciprocated.

"Next time get a red apple," You said, finding that hidden resolve within you once again as you smirked at him, "They're sweeter."

"Are they now?" Lucifer stopped circling you to stand only inches apart from your face. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your lips. A ball of anticipation formed at the base of your stomach, making you feel as though you have swallowed butterflies, "(Y/N).." The angel in front of you swallowed a lump in his throat, his own body betraying him as he backs you up against the tree, lips only barely touching one another, "Can I kiss you?"

You were breathless. Lucifer had officially sucked out all the air from your lungs- or so it felt like, "Yes." And with your consent, Lucifer crashed his lips to yours passionately. He invaded your mouth and all of your senses. You melted into him, relaxing against his body as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. It was as if fireworks went off in your head. Even the sound of distant ringing of the bells had you questioning if it was truly meant to be.

You suddenly pulled away from Lucifer, "Bells.."

Lucifer blinks at you dreamily, "You hear them too? It's perfect."

"No, Lucifer, the bells! I'm late for afternoon prayer!" You shove him out the way and continue collecting your things. You have been late to afternoon prayer for the past two weeks and were already walking on a thin line with the Seraphims, you couldn't afford to be late again, "I have to go."

Lucifer pulls you back to him with a slight frown, "So soon? But this might be our last time together for awhile. I have that council meeting today."

"For what? Don't tell me this about your dreams and aspirations?" By the way Lucifer looked away from you you knew it was exactly that, "You can't bring that to the council members, they will see it as a threat to everything they have built."

"And have you ever asked yourself why that is? They should embrace change, not run away from it." Lucifer says, his facial expression serious, "I can prove to them that change is positive, something good!"

You shake your head, "Don't be a fool Lucifer."

"Why can't you just support this? Support me? Is change so bad?!"

"If it's going to cost you your life Lucifer, then I can't support it." You place your free hand on his check. The pad of your thumb grazing his soft skin comfortingly, "I won't support you in this."

Silence falls over you two and for a moment you thought that your friend had finally seen through to reason but it was the exact opposite. Your heart broke and you knew that your support was the one thing he ever wanted from you and you denied him that. There was this quiet heartbreak you felt in your chest, realizing that you had lost not only your lover but your friend as well.

Lucifer's hand comes up to grip your wrist, gently pulling you away from him, "With or without you, I will do this. I will show them. Show everyone." You could only watch as he turns from you and flies away, leaving you to be covered by his shadow and retreating back.

"That pride of yours," You whispered, hands clenched tightly into fist at your sides as you felt tears leave your eyes, "Will be your downfall, Lucifer."

You sat up in the water suddenly, gasping for air as you felt someone violently shake you. You sputtered and coughed up what felt like a lung, water trickled down and into your eyes making your vision blurry for a few seconds before you could blink them away to focus on the person who was kneeled next to the tub, concerned clearly etched across their face as they looked at you. You blinked away the water, the blurry figure now forming into none other than Lysandra.

"Goodness, dear! Do you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep in the bath?" Rushing to grab a towel that was hanging on a rack, Lysandra lets you put all of your weight on her as she helps you out the tub, wrapping the fuzzy warm towel around your nude body, "You're lucky I saw the water coming from under the door! What on earth were you thinking?" "I had the strangest dream.." You start to say, breathless and panting but Lysandra shushes you, helping you dry off and get warm as she leads you out the bathroom, fully intending on not leaving your side for the rest of the night.

"Hush, your mind must be in shambles poor thing," The elderly woman leads you back into your bedroom, "A nice cup of calming tea should do the trick. Now stay here and don't move."

You were still in shock to even register your current reality anymore. That dream you had felt too real, almost as if it had just happened. Why was Lucifer in it? Why were you an Angel? Why were you in heaven? You dismissed it as nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. This only happened because of your growing connection to Lucifer. It was nothing of importance right? Dreams come from imagination- but there was a part of your mind that knew that dreams could also stem from memories.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

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[sunboki]

⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.

And so, you replaced it.

Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.

Until you met Seungmin.

He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.

But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.

Longing.

He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.

Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.

“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“

“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.

Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.

Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.

If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.

You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.

Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.

It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.

Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.

And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”

A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.

Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.

He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.

Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.

Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.

Guilty.

“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”

December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.

Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.

Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.

He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.

What you used to be.

Lovers.

Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.

But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.

What a lie.

Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.

Starting with a text.

He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.

Paris.

Paris?

Paris.

It hits him, evidently.

Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.

Months ago, he remembered.

You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.

It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.

Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.

What were the chances?

Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.

Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.

He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.

He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.

“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”

Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.

‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.

How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.

Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.

Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.

Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.

“.. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up, duh.”

“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”

The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.

"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"

“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.

Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?

Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.

Minho sighs.

"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."

For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.

From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.

But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.

What were the chances?

There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.

Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.

Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.

Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.

And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.

Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.

Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.

He looks up.

You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.

And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.

It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.

Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.

Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.

For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.

Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.

Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.

You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.

Perfect opposites, exactly.

Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.

Three little words.

I love you.

You lied.

Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.

Big words he didn’t return.

Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.

And you left.

You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.

Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?

Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.

You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.

Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.

He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.

That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.

But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.

In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.

And it fucking hurt remembering that.

December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.

The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.

Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.

The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.

Him.

“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.

Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.

“Do you remember the tickets?”

Hatred seemed the dominant factor.

“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.

Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?

He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”

It takes you a moment, then, aha.

How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.

”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”

Huh.

“WHAT?!”

You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.

Or so you thought.

You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.

You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.

And so, you dealt with it.

In ways.

Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.

A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.

Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.

And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.

Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.

You were wrong.

Not the first time that’s happened.

“Hi Hyunjin.”

Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.

Never had it felt so terrifying.

“Hey.”

You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.

“Are we…Are we doing this again?”

He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.

“I don’t know. You decide for me.”

Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.

Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.

But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.

“You know I can’t make big decisions.”

That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.

“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.

“Because I want better for us.”

“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.

“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”

There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.

You don’t want to think about that.

“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.

“Anything.”

“If I cry, will you hug me?”

“Do you want that?”

Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.

Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.

He knows the answer.

You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.

Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.

He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.

And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.

What a shame.

Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.

The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.

Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.

One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.

“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.

Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.

Cupid really needs to give up by now.

You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”

Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.

“…Who broke up with who?”

Asshole.

Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.

Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.

Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.

“No ginger ale?”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.

“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.

The ex you were very much over.

Right.

Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.

So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.

You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.

Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.

Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.

Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.

Bullshit.

Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.

Let’s just hope you can land first.

December 23nd – Paris, France.

His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.

It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.

Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.

Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.

Guess you’ll just have to make due.

Lovely.

“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.

Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.

Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.

To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.

Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.

“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.

You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.

“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”

That’s it.

“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”

He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.

Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.

“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”

Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.

It makes you sick to your stomach.

You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.

You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.

For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.

Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.

You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.

“Fuck! Get out!”

Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.

Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.

“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”

“GET OUT!” You scream.

“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.

And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.

Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.

Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.

He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.

The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.

“C’mon, just one?”

You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.

It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.

Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.

“Fine, one.”

Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.

“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.

Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.

It hurts.

“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”

“What was that?”

The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.

Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.

A harsh slam that never happens.

You cautiously open an eye.

“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.

You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.

Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.

“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.

From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.

Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.

Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.

“Can I at least carry you?”

Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.

Insane. He’s officially gone insane.

So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.

Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.

“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.

You missed his laugh.

And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).

Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.

Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.

His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.

He’ll sleep on the floor.

December 24th – Paris, France.

Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).

This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.

You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.

Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.

Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.

Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.

Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.

He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.

“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”

With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.

Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.

A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.

He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.

What a coincidence.

You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.

Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.

“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.

Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.

This adjustment was his hair.

Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.

“You used to love it when I grew it out.”

He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.

“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”

This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.

Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.

“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”

There’s your breaking point.

He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.

Right. Across. The face.

He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.

“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.

You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.

“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.

“Listen.”

“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.

“Listen.”

You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.

He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.

“I love you.”

You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.

Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.

He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.

You want to hide.

Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.

Cruel.

“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”

He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.

“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”

It’s hypocritical, you know.

Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.

Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.

He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.

His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.

Guess some things never change.

Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.

And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.

Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.

Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.

Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.

He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.

Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.

“I really don’t want to lose you.”

And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.

Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.

You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.

But in love. So very in love.

For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.

This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.

“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”

Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.

In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.

Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.

Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.

Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.

And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.

Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.

And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.

No, you’re certain of it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff

#stray kids x reader #straykids x reader #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #straykids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin fluff #skz angst #straykids angst #stray kids angst #straykids fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you

[moonlightspencie]

reader x spencer + best friends to lovers + angry love confession — hear me out. literally everyone on the team can tell they’re in love & they even realized before they did. maybe one of them has started going on casual dates (and they hate every minute of it bc it’s not the spencer or the reader) bc of this, either spencer or reader start distancing them self from the other because it’s just hurting them to watch that. when they kiss one says “you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this” !!

okay it ended up being a tad different, but i still like the way it turned out!!! definitely still idiots in love lolll

pairing: spencer reid x reader

—————

“What about you, mama? You got any weekend plans?” Derek asked you, raising a brow.

You smirked. “Yeah. I got some plans.”

His eyes widened in question, waiting for some elaboration. Spencer looked up from his desk, secretly curious to find out what you’d be doing.

Emily grew impatient. “Well? Are you just going to leave us hanging?”

“I’ve got a date,” you said quickly, smiling to yourself as the team reacted.

“Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?” JJ asked, leaning in closer.

“Y’all don’t know him, I can almost guarantee that. My friend Hannah set it up.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, burying himself back in his paperwork. Derek noticed, not letting that reaction slide by without some jeering.

“What? You jealous, pretty boy?”

Everyone’s attention was drawn to Spencer as he glared at Derek. You particularly had interest in the reaction he had. He’d been extra prickly lately, and while part of you hoped he was jealous because you wanted him to care, you also kind of liked the idea of him being annoyed by your actions at least once this week.

“Why would I be?”

“Maybe cause I can actually get a date, for one,” you chimed in, receiving a light smack on the arm from JJ.

You merely shrugged it off.

“I choose not to date anyone who comes along.”

You scoffed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, about to say something more when Derek broke it up, reprimanding you both for acting like ‘a couple of middle schoolers.’

“You started it,” you noted, leveling your gaze at Derek. “I was perfectly content ignoring his little huffy attitude.”

“I’m not being huffy,” Spencer said, staring you down.

“You have been all week.”

“No, I haven’t.”

You quirked a brow, giving him the ‘we’ll talk about this later’ look. He sighed, silently going back to his work. Everyone else decided that was about the time they should return to their own business, knowing better than to get in the middle of you two when you were mad at one another.

Near the end of the day, you decided to go and talk to Spencer about whatever was happening that was causing him to act the way he was. You started walking to his desk, though he abruptly stood and gathered his things.

“Spence,” you called as he tried to leave his desk. “Spencer.”

He ignored you. He really should’ve known you better than to do that. You followed after him, trapping him at last in the elevator.

“What is your issue?” you asked, your tone harsher than you intended.

He sighed hard. “I need to go home. I don’t have an issue.”

You stood in front of him, forcing eye contact that he was desperately trying to avoid.

“You ran away from me.”

“No—”

“Yes. You did, and everyone saw it happen so don’t even try acting like you didn’t.”

“Everyone knows your business already, what’s one more thing?”

You furrowed your brow. “Excuse me?”

The elevator dinged, and he started walking away from you. You pursued him quickly.

“Are you talking about earlier? You really think I was out of bounds to tell our friends I had a date?”

He stayed quiet, his jaw ticking as he pushed out of the doors. He was relentlessly trying to get away, but your willpower could certainly be stronger. You followed him into the parking lot, grabbing him by the arm when he tried getting further.

“Spencer,” you called out, clearly annoyed. “This is ridiculous. You’re going to talk to me about this now or we’re never talking again.”

He turned, staring at you for a few moments. He shook his head, anger on his features that looked deeply out of place.

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting like a toddler—”

“No,” he stopped you. “Why are you— You’re constantly going out. Why? You never did that before. Why now?”

You were taken aback, mentally and physically. You tried formulating an answer, though nothing quite provided a good cover-up for ‘I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I can’t stop thinking about you and I need to get over it’.

“Why do you care?” is what you settled for.

“I don’t know,” he exclaimed. “I just hate it.”

“Then why don’t you go find someone to date?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he said, matching the venom in your voice.

“Why not?”

“They’re not you!”

“Okay? Every person I’ve dated lately hasn’t been you and I’ve gotten over it,” you spit out, not quite realizing yet what either of you had said.

He geared up to yell back at you when his face morphed from anger to sudden confusion.

“Wait, what?”

You still weren’t quite sure why he looked so confused.

“If I can date someone and get over the fact it isn’t you, I’m sure you could manage the same,” you said quickly.

Oh.

“Wait,” you stopped. “What?”

“What do you mean they’re not me?” he asked, still questioning a little aggressively.

“What do you mean?”

His brain connected those remaining puzzle pieces pretty quickly from that point. His face dropped in shock, hands moving before his head could tell him ‘no’. He grabbed your arms to pull you in, hands holding to your face the second you were close enough, slamming his lips to yours. Your own shock faded quickly enough to kiss him back, your own hands grasping at his wrists.

You broke apart after several seconds, looking at him wide-eyed.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, words practically tumbling from his mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, still feeling in the mood to argue.

“You didn’t either,” he shot back. “You started dating people.”

“Yeah, dumbass, I had to get over you at some point.”

He rolled his eyes, then settled them back on your face. He took you in, a light smile on his face betraying him.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You nodded. “Same here.”

Derek and Emily strolled out of the building, immediately spotting their two favorite idiots making out next to the government building in which they worked. Emily smiled, then looked at a shocked-but-excited-looking Derek.

She patted him on the shoulder. “You owe me twenty bucks.”

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[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move. 

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever. 

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes. 

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells? 

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes. 

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum. 

Or survival instincts. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . . 

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion. 

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still. 

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.” 

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person. 

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem. 

A serious problem. 

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?” 

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head. 

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?” 

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was. 

Flattering, but incredibly obvious. 

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.” 

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.” 

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves. 

Or a lot harder, sometimes. 

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . . 

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes. 

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside. 

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe? 

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone. 

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now. 

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.” 

Red Hood laughs. 

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!” 

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes? 

She spent way too long in Amity, yes. 

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake. 

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . . 

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . . 

Then again, her life is her life. 

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now. 

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.” 

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?” 

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling. 

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that. 

Hm. 

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies. 

Well, so is Amity Park, of course. 

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not. 

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances. 

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved. 

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells. 

Definitely inappropriate. 

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says. 

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means. 

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly. 

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.” 

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it. 

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment. 

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering. 

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?” 

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows. 

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . . 

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . . 

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.” 

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because. 

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way. 

“Are you sure?” she asks.

#dpxdc #anger management ship #hardcover ship #wip: alpha jazz and a dark alley #tabetharasa #omegaverse

[katshelluvacritic]

Charlie Morningstar is probably one of the worst written characters I’ve seen in the series.

(This one’s gonna be a long one…)

Ok…. So I watched all six episodes and to be honest I’m pretty much pissed off by this character specifically. This might be more of a rant rather than a critique, so I do understand that not everything I say in this will end up being as constructive exactly but I genuinely need to get this off my chest, especially since she is a character I’ve specifically and recently been hyper fixating on before the show released…

(Side note: I realized the post was very long so, to have it be easier to read I added titles for each section! Hope this helps)

!!WARNING FOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES BTW!!

> Charlie lacks the qualities of being a main character.

Now besides the piss poor excuse of an introduction for her (and the rest of the cast) in the main series, I honestly question why exactly Charlie specifically is the “protagonist” in the first place (and I say protagonist with the biggest of quotes here, you’ll see why).

In the first episode of the series “overture”, we don’t really see much of her character, most of the time we’re shown screen time of Vicky (a nickname I made for v*ggie since I’m not gonna call her by her genitalia thank you) trying to make an ad for the hotel and even when we do get the screen time of her, she’s barely doing anything other than hearing viv’s self insert- I mean- Adam just go on and on about whatever he’s talking about.

And when Charlie does go on to explain her plan to redeem sinners she’s just interrupted and then stands there when they start singing hell is forever, she doesn’t “go off” like the hazbin Twitter says, she just stands there and then tries to say something only to get interrupted again and again and then gets pushed out of the meeting room before going back to the hotel to see it’s spread across in the news that the next extermination happens in 6 months.

Now although one might argue “Well didn’t Charlie at one point said in the show that giving orders is so mean?” Well yes but again, Charlie is literally the princess of pride ring, you would think that since her parents are literally rulers of pride, they would’ve probably teach her how to stand on her two feat, especially if your RUNNING A HOTEL. And the thing is, she has stood up and did so in episode 6 and the goddamn pilot (which is at this point is probably canon due to Charlie calling it the hazbin hotel instead of happy hotel), even going as far as to fight Katie Killjoy because she thought it was stupid.

Not only that but the episodes after overture, her screen time lessens until somewhat in 5 and 6. She doesn’t really appear that much in the between these episodes to the point where she feels like a supporting character rather than a protagonist. And when she does get screen time, she’s either forgettable at best and infuriating at worst.

> Charlie’s character is poorly written and just dumb.

In the episodes past overture, she’s literally rock solid stupid that I literally screamed in real life multiple times “you’re a fucking idiot” because of how frustrated I was from what she was doing, In episode 2 she literally trusted sir pentious to go to her hotel even though he almost destroyed her place and in episode 6 thought it was a hunky dory idea to let a person who literally exploded buildings to take charge of giving her employees a “good time”. Yes it could be played off as her being naive but if she’s that naive of a person then maybe she shouldn’t be a boss of a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.

Heck, in episode 4, Charlie gets pissed off and turns into her demon form because val literally started hurting Angel when he followed him into the room (and rightfully so) but when angel tells her to leave and drags her out of the studio, she’s just in her normal form and fucks off??? Reminder she’s literally the princess of hell! She could beat the shit out of val if she wants to, why did she just fucked off after angel had her leave?

“But Kat, what if something bad happens to angel if valentino dies?” Like what? If it was explained that if an overlord dies then the sinners that made a deal with them die too or something like that then yeah, that would make sense but we don’t know that whether or not that’s the case, if anything angel could be just fine after Valentino dies but we don’t know that.

And even when Charlie had the opportunity to go out there and apologize to him herself after he stormed out of the hotel, she and Vicky just send Husk to do it. And I have to ask, WHY? HUSK didn’t know what was happening to Angel earlier. HUSK wasn’t at the porn studio that Angel was working at. CHARLIE WAS….

“Well Kat, what if Charlie was scared about making things worse?” Fair enough, but again sending Husk is a stupid idea, I feel like it would’ve AT LEAST made sense if she sent Vicky out there. Because Charlie didn’t know if husk could fight (if you could even call it that, all he did was throw cards at people), BUT SHE KNEW VICKY COULD THOUGH. But nah we gotta do it for the ship right?

And then Charlie had the gull to be crying that angel forgave her after she fucked up, like shut the fuck up… it’s like if viv looked at a bunch of chars that had the optimistic care-free ‘ish personality and thought that meant making her as pathetic as a baby crying that they didn’t get a lollipop from their mommy.

Like I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s literally gone to a point where I think Orel Puppington (aka the 11 yo Christian kid who worships Jesus and gets harmful lessons from other Christians) makes a better Charlie Morningstar than the Charlie Morningstar herself!

And that thought is justified when he tried to go help people in Sinville, “Kat he ended up turning into a pimp at the end of the episode” yeah but AT LEAST HE TRIED TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING! Which leads me to another question….

> How is Charlie gonna redeem sinners exactly???

Like honestly, I’m serous with this one. How is Charlie gonna redeem these guys?

I ask this because in the series, she barely does ANYTHING to help these guys, she and the rest of the characters just sit around and then do an activity that is the equivalent of something you would do in kindergarten except it’s with ADULTS.

I don’t know about you but If your idea of helping people is doing just that and nothing else, then the only thing the people around you are gonna get is them being annoyed at first and eventually walking out with thinking your not helping them but rather just treating them like a baby who doesn’t know anything, and the only thing your gonna get personally is nothing because you did dick all.

Like other than that she pretty much just whines about sinners not going to her hotel and oh gee I wonder why, it’s not like your not doing anything to help these sinners not committing sins anymore, oh definitely not, your absolutely being helpful.

“Oh but Kat! Charlie was born in hell, how can she know how to help people? She’s not from the human world so, she wouldn’t exactly know how to help these people!” I would tell you to look at the world building for the series and it’s spin off but that’s a whole other can of beans that I don’t wanna cover today and this is already getting to long, so y’know what? We’ll go with that.

If Charlie didn’t know how to help people and was trying to figure out what she can do to help sinners get better, then why didn’t she just ask her employees for suggestions? Y’know, the other sinners who were from the human world and had experiences while they were alive and such?

Yeah, I get that not all of their advice would be exactly good or healthy (since they’re sinners who’ve done many bad things after all) BUT ITS AT LEAST SOMETHING FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!

She literally does nothing, she just expects you to immediately get better after some improvisations or whatever other activities she does and once you’ve done one nice thing then boom you’re close to redemption.

> Conclusion.

Charlie Morningstar is (like I said in the beginning) probably one of the worst characters in the hazbin hotel series, she at best a stereotype of the “everything is sunshines and rainbows” character tropes and at worst is a pathetic excuse of a main character and is nothing but a rotten shell of her character from the pilot.

I would go on about how her design’s also bad but I’m sure millions of people have already said the same issues and I’ve already posted my redesign of her before the show dropped.

I might plan on posting a rewrite of her or maybe explain my problems with another character or episode but I don’t know.

But until then, I’ll see y’all later!

#hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #Kat’s rants #rant post #hazbin critique #hazbin criticism #hazbin charlie #charlie magne #watch as I get hate on this post and get called an anti #like I genuinely feel like that’s gonna happen but idc

[cowgurrrl]

Keep the Wolves Away

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: Dedicated to my real life Andies. Thank you for making me feel easy to love.

Summary: The worst decision [5.2k]

Warnings: platonic threatening, discussions of bad mental health, so much flirting that (spoiler alert) might be real, possible THE shittiest ex I ever could've written, all the southern pet names, alcohol consumption, the resurgence of an old nude of readers, gaslighty behavior, smoking cigarettes (don't smoke kids), Joel talking reader out of a spiral, two (2) kisses

"So, it's a date." Andie declares once you're done explaining everything to her over FaceTime. You pause your blush application to roll your eyes at her. 

"It's not a date!"

"I'm sorry, so I'm just supposed to believe you when you say you're going to be just friends with the hot, sweet single dad who sounds like he's head over heels for you?"

"He is not head over heels for me." You sound a little petulant, and Andie laughs like she did when you were in high school and trying to hide a crush from her. 

"Babe, he willingly went on a high school field trip just so he could see you."

"His daughter was there. I'm sure he wanted to spend time with her."

"I'm sure he did because he's a great dad, but he also wanted to see you in your element. It's sexy watching someone do the thing they love." 

"Yeah, yeah." You brush her off, and she scoffs. You toss your makeup brush back into its bag and check out your outfit in the mirror. It's nothing insane— just a plain black slip dress— but now that Joel's arrival is getting closer and closer, you're rethinking everything. "Do I look okay?"

"You look stunning!" Andie chirps. "I'm sure your not boyfriend will think the same thing."

"I'm going to get a plane ticket to Austria just so I can choke you out with my own two hands." You threaten, but she laughs so hard you can't stop smiling. Once the trans-Atlantic giggling dies down, the line goes quiet, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mascara out. 

"Are you nervous to see him?" She asks gently. Andie came home for the summer dubbed The Dark Days. She stayed over when the one-bedroom apartment felt too big and got you out of the house when you couldn't stand the four walls anymore. She took whatever he left behind to his new apartment so you wouldn't have to (and gave him a piece of her mind while she was at it). She made you believe in love again. Not sticky, frustrating, unpredictable romantic love but pure, easy, all-knowing love that can only come from long-enduring relationships such as yours. 

For a long time after he left, you thought you were hard to love. Too loud, too bright, too much. Until you were out at a bar with her one night, trying to find the remnants of your independence and self-esteem tucked under sweaty beers and cracked leather chairs, when someone pointed out how similar you and Andie were. "Like two sides of the same coin," the woman told you. Andie is one of the easiest people in the world to love with her quick wit, creativity, and smile. And you realized for the first time if you had even a shred of that, even if only by dint of knowing and being loved by her, then you must be easy to love too. You must be worth the mess and heartache and stained fingerprints. 

So, yeah, Andie was less than pleased to hear that all that hard work could be undone by seeing him again, but she was supportive. 

"I don't know," you sigh. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've had more years without him than I did with him, but it's still scary."

"I know." 

"I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him."

"He'll probably be too busy with the gallery and everything. Maybe you won't even have to." She says, and you groan at the uncertainty of everything. 

"God, why did I say yes?" You ask as a knock interrupts your whining. You end your call with a quick "I love you, thank you, I'll text you" before throwing your phone down. "Come in!" You yell from the bathroom as you rapidly finish doing your makeup. There's a pause on the other side before he jiggles the knob and finally comes in. "I'm just finishing up in the bathroom. Give me a minute." 

"D'you always leave your door unlocked?" Joel asks. The sound of his unsure footsteps reaches your ears, and you smile at the thought of him looking around your apartment like a lost toddler. 

"Only when I know someone's coming over," you say. "Sorry, it's a mess."

"Oh, this is nothin'. You should see Ellie's room." He says, his feet pacing the floor. You swipe on a cute lipstick you never wear and finally step out into the living room where Joel is waiting. He's wearing a black button-up shirt with nice pants as he stands with his back to you, looking at some of the things on your wall. 

"Well, don't you look nice?" You compliment, making him turn around with a shy smile. His eyes roam over you, taking in every detail or sliver of skin he hasn't seen before. His intense gaze reminds you of how he looked at you in the bar when you were sure his eyes would melt you. He looks dumbstruck, and his Adam's apple bobs when his eyes finally settle on your face. 

"Wow… you look-"

"Choose carefully." You tease to take some of the tension out of the room. 

"Beautiful," he says, thwarting your efforts. "You always look beautiful." 

"Thank you. Not so bad yourself." 

"You like it? Ellie helped me pick it out," he anxiously fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. "Feels weird." 

"What specifically feels weird?" You ask, stepping closer to him to examine his outfit. He smells like aftershave and the cologne he's prone to wearing. Why the fuck do you have his cologne memorized, you think to yourself. 

"I dunno. I think I just feel outta place." 

"Well, you don't look out of place," you say. "These might be what's doing it, though." You tap the top buttons of his shirt, the ones buttoned all the way up to his chin like a toddler going to Christmas mass. 

"Ellie said I should do all of 'em since it's a fancy art thing."

"Well, you should stop taking fashion advice from a fifteen-year-old," you laugh. "I promise it's not fancy enough to justify being uncomfortable." 

"I'm takin' your word for it." He says as he reaches up to undo his top two buttons, revealing freckles across his chest and collarbones and the tiniest sliver of a gold chain resting against his throat. For some reason, you can't tear your eyes away from the veins in his neck or the delicate necklace stuck to his warm skin. "What, it really looks that bad?" He thankfully breaks through your thoughts, and you try to recover by shaking your head.

"No, no. Not at all. You look really nice," you say, clearing your throat. "Let me get my purse, and we can go." You don't even wait for him to respond. You just turn on your heels and walk to your bedroom. In the security of your bedroom, you let out a long exhale and try to get your mind back on track. 

You're just nervous. He's being nice. You're being nice back. It's nothing. It's nothing. It's nothing, you mentally chant. When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you almost have to laugh at the fierce blush on your cheeks and the distracted look in your eyes. "You better get it together." You say, pointing at yourself in the mirror like it's gonna do anything to make tonight smoother.

The gallery is packed when you get there. Joel curses under his breath as he tries to find a parking spot, and you try to keep your anxiety at bay. All you have to do is show your face, look at the paintings, and leave. Maybe you can manage to steal a bottle of the cheap wine they're undoubtedly serving. It'll be an hour. Two tops. You can do this. 

You're so in your head that you didn't notice that Joel parked the car or that he was looking at you until he bumped your knee with his. 

"You okay?" He asks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Just need a second." You mumble. You fiddle with your earrings, your dress, anything to keep your hands busy as you psyche yourself up. 

"When's the last time you saw this asshole?"

"He wasn't always an asshole," you try to redirect, but he raises his eyebrows at you. "Since I graduated college." 

"We don't have to go in." He offers easily, and you give him a look. 

"Yes, we do. My name's on the list and everything." 

"So?" He shrugs. "The world's not gonna end just cause one person didn't show up."

"But you drove all the way here."

"And I can drive you all the way back. Besides, it's nice having a pretty girl in my truck. It wouldn't hurt to have you here next to me for a little while longer." He says, and you laugh, feeling some weight lift off your shoulders.

"You get many pretty girls sitting in your truck?"

"Just my pretty girls." 

"Right." You say, and he smiles, creating familiar crinkles in the corners of his eyes. They look a little deeper in the moonlight, but his eyes shine differently. Your fingers itch to draw them if only to critique your work and find the answer to why he has such an effect on you. You're aware that you're staring, but you also can't find it in yourself to look away. Not when he's staring back at you so fondly. 

"What can I do to help you?" He asks. You feel like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice. You've talked to Ellie about her anxiety, so you know he has some practice in dealing with it, but he's acting like it's second nature. Like this is what he was meant to do. He bumps you again when you start messing with your purse. "Do you want this to be like at the bar? Do you want me to take you home and pretend like we were never here? Do you want me to go in there and crack some skulls? You say the word— any word— and I'll do it for you, darlin'." 

Darlin’. It's what he called you when you promised revenge for almost kissing you at the bar. Normally, you'd be against any form of pet name. Henry was not openly affectionate in that way, and you learned not to expect it from him. But here's Joel, dropping the term of endearment almost every time he's been alone with you. It could be that cowboy accent or his knee pressed against yours, but the nickname fills your chest with warmth and pushes away your anxiety. 

"Any word, huh?" You ask, and he chuckles. 

"My mama raised me not to make promises I didn't have every intention of followin' through on." He says. "What'll it be?"

"I think… I just need you to be there with me." 

"Then, that's what I'll do." 

"Okay." You mumble, and he smiles as a new wave of comfort washes over you. 

"Okay." He says.

"Okay." You take a deep breath and look at him in the driver's seat one more time. "Let's do this." Finally, you open the door and step down from his truck. He's quick to come to your side and offer you his arm before he can even finish locking the car. You smile, tuck your hand under his bicep, and let him keep you upright as you walk in. 

The gallery is full of people who look way more qualified than you— art critics, journalists, and other artists who can actually sell a piece. They barely glance at you and Joel when you breach the doorway, which you're silently grateful for. When a waiter walks by with champagne glasses, Joel quickly snatches two glasses from the tray and hands you one. 

"Here's to us." He says, and you cock an eyebrow at him. 

"Us?"

"Well, we're sure as hell not toastin' to that asshole, are we?" 

"I guess not," you laugh as you clink your glasses together. "To us." You each take a sip, and Joel tries to hide his reaction to the champagne, but you see right through it. "Not your speed?"

"Not at all." He groans as he chokes it down. 

"Don't worry, maverick, we'll get you something else later." You promise and tuck your hand back under his arm as you start walking through the gallery. 

A lot of his newer work resembles his work from college— normal portraits of things like fruits, beds, or people but with unexpected lines of colors lining them like they're vibrating. You even recognize some from your college days. You just never expected them to actually be displayed in this way, not even when you were dating and telling him what a good artist you thought he was. Some have vague titles like "$12" and "Jack," while others are untitled. You can see why it would get taken in by a gallery. There's a very clear skill in how he paints and manipulates everyday objects into something new. It would be impressive if it was interesting. 

Maybe you're just used to the way he paints. Maybe this is exactly what you expected of him. Maybe you thought he would've grown, if not in attitude than, at least, in skill. But it's clear that too many people told him good things about his work, and he saw nothing he needed to change or fix. Somehow, it makes you feel better, not worse, about your own art. 

"So, are these supposed to be good or bad?" Joel whispers to you as you get closer to the next section, and you laugh a little too loudly. The people around you give you nasty looks, but you can't find it in yourself to be sorry.

"Like I said at the museum, I can't tell you that, but…" you glance around to make sure nobody's listening to you. "As someone who saw him make a lot of art, this is definitely not his best."

"Okay, that's what I thought," he says before pointing at a specific part of the painting. "The shape is really weird right there, like he ran outta space or somethin'." You let go of his arm and step between him and the painting, smiling knowingly.

"Did you study for this?" You ask, and he nervously plays with the chain around his neck. 

"I may have… snuck a look at Ellie's notes." He admits sheepishly, and your eyes widen. 

"You were actin' like you were gonna have to rely on me this whole time! You don't need me to tell you what good art is!"

"Yeah, but I want you to." 

"Oh, whatever. C'mon, I wanna hear what else you think." You pretty much drag him to the next section of the gallery, but he's pliant and almost giddy at your hold on him. You take more time in the next part, and he ducks so his lips are near your ear to point out little things he notices. He said he was scared of being wrong in front of people "smarter than him," but all the observations he makes are valid and accurate. He lets you add your own analysis to his and watches you with a smile when you start talking with your hands excitedly. Suddenly, you're not nearly as miserable as you thought you would be, and you're even laughing together as you jump from painting to painting. 

"See, this isn't so bad!" You say as you move to the final part, but your smile and enthusiasm die when you step over the threshold. There, staring at you unashamedly is the painting Henry did of you when you were twenty and topless. He told you it was for his own artistic development, and you were more than happy to do it for him. You just never thought he would've kept it after all these years. Thank God your face isn't visible in the painting, but your rigid posture tells Joel everything he needs to know. He politely turns his back to the painting and steps between you and your likeness. 

"You wanna go?" He whispers at the same time someone calls your name. You take a deep breath and grab Joel's hand for support as you turn around and face Henry. His wavy blonde hair frames his face like it did in college but he's matured. His beard is a little more filled in, and he's gotten a little broader. Other than that, he's still the same person you met freshman year. 

"I'm so glad you could make it!" He says as he approaches. He doesn't try to hug you, and you don't move to let go of Joel's hand. "You look great. I mean, you always looked great, but you know what I meant," he says, looking over you. Only when Joel clears his throat does Henry even look at him. "Oh, sorry, man! We're old friends. I'm Henry." He holds his hand out for Joel to meet halfway, but he doesn't. You think it probably took fighting every single bit of southern hospitality in his veins to stop himself from shaking Henry's hand.

"'M Joel." He says, and Henry awkwardly drops his hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Joel. How are you enjoying the exhibition?" 

"'S alright." Is all Joel offers, not willing to gas up Henry's ego anymore, and you have to stifle a laugh at the expectant look on Henry's face. "Well, I think we were just goin'."

"Oh, so soon? You haven't even seen the last few pieces."

"Are those any better than the thirty identical ones I already saw?"

"Joel," you scold quietly, and his jaw flexes when you look at him.

"It's okay. Not everyone understands art enough to enjoy it." Henry says. 

"Oh, I understand everythin' just fine." You swear Joel would've punched him if he wasn't holding your hand so tight. You step in between them and raise your eyebrows at Joel. His shoulders are squared, and you can feel the molten anger rolling off him, but it softens just a bit when he meets your eyes. You squeeze him twice to let him know you're okay, and he nods. 

"Can you get me a refill on champagne? I think they're still walkin' around with some." You suggest. He gets the hint, but he obviously doesn't like it. He glances between you and Henry like he's trying to make a decision but folds when you mouth, "please," at him. 

"’Course," he says through gritted teeth. "Anythin' else I can get for you, baby?" Baby, that's a new one, you think. 

"No, I'm alright. Thanks, though." You say. Without thinking, you let your other hand rest on his jaw and kiss Joel's cheek. His jaw unclenches when your fingertips graze his stubble, and his shoulders relax when your lips make contact with his skin, but you know he's still upset because you're still upset. Joel smiles and walks away before you can get a good look at the blush creeping up his neck, and you're resigned to watching him disappear into the crowd. 

"He seems nice," Henry says the second Joel is out of earshot, and you have to resist the urge to laugh. 

"He is." 

"How'd you two meet?"

"Through work." You say, knowing that bringing up teaching will make his skin crawl. He sucks his teeth and nods, the champagne in his glass sloshing slightly.

"Ah," he says. "That's nice."

"Yeah," you agree. An awkward silence falls over the two of you quickly, and you're itching to find Joel in the sea of people. Henry notices your lack of attention on him.

"It's really good to see you," he says. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever."

"Yeah, that's usually what happens when you leave someone." 

"That's kinda why I invited you here tonight. I wanted to apologize for the way things ended," he acts brokenhearted and torn up about it, but he's years too late for the pity party he's expecting. "I should've talked to you about what was going on. We were just... becoming so different, and it felt like you were always talking to Andie or other people in the program, and there was no way to reach you."

"What are you talking about? I asked you multiple times if we were okay, and you said yes every time. I was talking to Andie so much because I needed someone who would understand me and be able to help." You say, and he waves his hand like he's swatting flies.

"Let's not do this. My therapist says it's not healthy to rehash the past like this. I just wanted to make amends and let you know I'm sorry for how you felt." It's not an apology. Not a real one, anyway. Jesus Christ, what did you ever see in him? Before you can even open your mouth to say something, he gestures to the gallery. "So, what do you think about all this? Crazy, right?"

"It's... something," you say. "Wish you would've given me a heads up about that one before I brought someone with me." You point in the direction of your half-naked body on the wall, and he gives you a confused look.

"I thought I did in the email." 

"Nope, I think I would've remembered if you said something about a half-naked painting of me from college being displayed," you shake your head. "Why do you even still have that? I thought you would've thrown it away or painted over it or something."

"Why would I do that? It's a good piece."

"I know it's good because it's my body. What's weird is you leaving me without a word one day and then keeping a naked picture of me all these years." 

"I didn't even think of it as your body. After a while, it was just a body," he says with no remorse, and you think you might hit him yourself. "Besides, you should take this as a compliment. Not many women get the opportunity to be depicted as art. It's a wonderful thing. You might even thank me one day when you're older." Finally, you see Joel walking toward you with a glass of champagne, and you take refuge in the fact that he's returning for you. "But, from what I can see, they've definitely stayed the same, so you probably don't have anything to worry about." He says like it's a secret or a compliment. You don't even wait for Joel to say or do anything. You just grab the wine from him and throw it in Henry's face. The people in the immediate vicinity gasp as you slap him and shove the empty glass into his hands. 

"Out of all the stupid things I imagined for myself when I was younger, thinking I would marry you was the stupidest," you spit. "Don't you ever try to fucking contact me again."

You feel like a fucking idiot. What did you expect? An apology? Repentance? Regret? He barely apologized when you were together. Why would he start now? God, was he always that bad? How could you have been so blind? How could you have shed so many tears over him? How could you have let yourself be so vulnerable with him and for so many years? It's a miracle he didn't call the cops and try to get the two of you arrested, even though Joel didn't do anything. You think, at least. The second you finished your sentence, you ran to the bathroom to cry and then snuck out through the back to wait outside Joel's truck. For all you know, Joel (rightfully) beat his ass and is on the run from artsy Austin hipsters. 

You put the lit cigarette back in your mouth and take a long drag, the familiar burning in your lungs a sick relief. You quit during The Dark Days because smoking was something he did, and you wanted to rid yourself of any reminder of his impact on your life. Apparently, at the same time you were scrubbing his fingerprints from your bones, he was in possession of and doing God knows what with the visual reminder of your vulnerability and love-sickness and acted like it was nothing. Like it was a compliment. Like it was just an object instead of your body. Andie would be pissed if she were here but especially if she saw you smoking after she braved all those shaky days and nights of nicotine patches and dried fruit and whatever other remedy recommended to help you quit smoking. You half-expect the same anger when you see Joel walking toward you. 

"Before you even start, I know I shouldn't, okay? It's a bad habit from when I was a kid, and I've mostly kicked it. I just... had a lapse. I'll be back on my best behavior tomorrow," you say as he stops in front of you. He doesn't look angry or upset. He just looks concerned and maybe even a little sad. Suddenly, you regret running away from him when all he probably wanted to do was help. You probably wouldn't have bummed a cigarette from a busboy if you let him. "Don't tell Ellie." You plead. His eyes flick over your face before he takes the cigarette from your fingers, puts the lipstick-stained filter in his own mouth, and inhales deeply, making the ember glow in the dark of the night. When he exhales, he blows the smoke away from you and lets the wind carry it in the opposite direction. A considerate smoker. You should've guessed.

"Don't tell Ellie," he says, handing the cigarette back to you. "Are you okay?"

You shake your head and take a long drag. It's quiet between you two for a while, the only sound being the cicadas and the distant chatter of the gallery. They're probably still talking about the psycho bitch who threw her wine in the artist's face. You don't really care. "I'm sorry for tonight. I don't know what I was expecting, and I sure as shit didn't know that painting was gonna be displayed. I swear, if I had any idea how bad this was gonna be, I wouldn't have invited you." 

"Why are you apologizin'? It's not your fault." 

"I shouldn't have roped you into this. I should've just said no, ignored the email, or came by myself. It's not fair that you got put in the middle of all this, especially when you were just trying to be nice. You're the parent of one of my students, and for you to see that side of me is just inappropriate. I just-" he stops your rambling by putting his hands on your shoulders and making you look at him, the cigarette falling to the pavement in the process. 

"Hey, hey. Stop. Take a breath." He says. Your head hurts from crying, and part of you wants to crawl into a hole and stay there until these feelings go away, but his eyes are gentle, and his hands are warm. You think he might be the only reason you're holding it together right now. "None of this is your fault, okay? Not the painting, not the conversation, none of it. We're both adults, and we can handle these things rationally. I'm not scarred for life just 'cause you lost your temper."

"But I-"

"No, buts. You told me the situation, and I didn't care. You warned me bout the art people, and I didn't care. You threw a drink in that asshole's face, and I didn't care," he says. "The only thing I care bout right now is makin' sure you're okay. Fuck everythin' else." You search his face for anything to tell you what he's telling you is going against his inner monologue but find none. He's completely and wholly concerned about you and nothing else. Not how fast he can get out of this. Not how this might look. Not what other people might think about him. Nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Fuck everything else." You agree. 

"Now, you're gettin' the hang of it." He jokes, and you roll your eyes at him. He takes it in stride, his smile never fading as he looks down at you. You stop messing with the hem of your dress and let yourself relax for the first time all night.

"Thank you for being here, Joel. I really appreciate it."

"Not our best not-date, but definitely a memorable one." He says, and you laugh. You seem to realize how close you are at the same time because you both fall silent. His curls are beautifully draped over his face, and you can't stop watching his tiny expressions. An eye squint. A purse of the lips. A bite to the inside of his cheek. You want to blame your bad night or the emotions, but you can't. There's something more there. Something that's been brewing beneath the surface since he came into your classroom. Something that will kill you if you don't act on it.

You let your hands come up from your sides and tentatively brush against his waist as you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares down at your lips, and the hands on your shoulders slowly move across your skin and up your collarbone— leaving goosebumps in his wake— until his hands are on your jaw and your pulse is thrumming against his palm. You pull him closer by his belt loops, and he doesn't hesitate to crowd your space, pushing you into the side of his truck with his body. His lips ghost over yours, just barely touching, and his nose bumps yours. 

"This is a bad idea," you breathe, tightening your hold on him. He nods and presses his forehead against yours. He's still close enough to breathe the same air as him, but the distance feels like miles. You lean forward a fraction as a test, and he doesn't move. If anything, he seems annoyed you didn't kiss him.

"D'you want to stop?" He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel. You shake your head and swallow hard when he brushes the hair off your shoulder, and you can feel his heavy hand holding you. Your hands skate over his ribs, feeling muscles and a crazed heartbeat, and his jaw clenches. "Then you better do somethin' cause you've been drivin' me fuckin' crazy for weeks." 

Finally, you catch his lips with yours. He tastes like nicotine and smoke, and you know it's going to take a lot more than patches to get you to want to stop doing this. It's gentle and sweet, all relieved sighs and shy touches until you pull away for just a second to second-guess yourself or ask him something. You don't even start to form the words before he's back on you with more fervor. Suddenly, it's like he's everywhere but not nearly close enough. He nibbles at your bottom lip and tests a hand on your sternum, long fingers grazing your throat. The metal of the truck digs into your back, but you stop caring when a little moan slips from his lips when you pull him closer.

This is a bad idea. A horrible one. A bad habit you're gonna need to kick. 

But he might just be your favorite bad idea so far.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk

#hippies and cowboys #joel miller au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us au #tlou au #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us fluff #joel miller fluff #i fucking love this

[yuri-is-online]

Jade would be VERY pleased about finally having another club member. I would be happy to listen to him info dump while we look at mushrooms and neat nature stuff.

I let this sit in my ask box for too long but I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while and then harveston had to go and drop that one line validating my delusions and you've given me an excuse to post it ha

notes: they/them used for Yuu, violence against animals (a bear), swearing at animals (the same bear), Yuu is unnaturally strong (enough to fight a bear), Yuu is implied to have grown up in a forest/woodsy environment, Jade typical blackmail. Other more serious fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Once upon a time, back when you first arrived in this world, you had been unsure how to feel about NRC. Castles existed back home, sure, but ones like this belonged firmly in illustrations or video games; it felt a but nauseating to walk through your wildest dreams brought to life, even if it was exciting sometimes. It was little wonder to you then that the idea of a Mountain Lover's Club was so appealing.

"Did you hike a lot back home?" Trey has that strange smile on his face that suggests you have made him tense somehow.

"Yes. I practically grew up in the woods." The flow of wind through the branches, the smell of fresh rain on the decomposing earth below, all of it wrapped you in a familiar sense of serenity even if the tree line was completely foreign to you. What are men to rocks and mountains after all? You could make yourself right at home here-

"I still don't think you should join." Trey says with all the air of a man who is certainly not telling you something, but the surprising harsh nod of agreement Riddle gives before injecting himself into the conversation convinces you more than whatever Trey had in mind likely could.

"I'm not entirely certain what they do," Riddle has never forbid you from participating in things since you and his dorm-mates brought him back to his senses," but if you want to hike it might be safer if you did it by yourself, assuming you let one of us know when you are going and when you expect to be back. It wouldn't do to have something that brings you so much joy used against you prefect, none of us want that." But he has always expressed concern when he thinks things to be unsafe, and in this case his argument was something you found yourself agreeing with. Hiking is best done at your own pace anyway, why get a club full of self-centered assholes involved in your me time? Though you did wish now they had been a bit more... specific with their concerns. Maybe outlined some of the club's scheduling, but then they would have needed to ask him and in so doing betrayed your interest.

Which would have been much less embarrassing than how Jade actually found out. Because of course he did, was there ever any doubt he would? ~~~~ There is a creek not far up the mountain path behind your dorm you like to rest at when coming back from your adventures. It's a good place to check over the photos on your camera and enjoy the last few rays of sunlight before returning to whatever mess Grim had made in Ramshackle searching for where you had moved all the tuna cans. Sometimes he joined you, and the two of you would have a little picnic up the path a bit further, but that day had not been one of those days. Nor had the day you met this particular nemesis who is staring you down from just across the creek with such a judgmental glance you would think this was a Sunday brunch and not an afternoon meander through the forest.

"The fuck do you want bitch?" You snarl and the bear indignantly sniffs as if to imply she's better than you. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize it was my fault your face is so fucking crooked, thought you were just born that way." She huffs again, making a big show of turning her back on you as you rush to get your equipment off and tucked safely out of reach before the skankiest grizzly you've ever met whips around and charges you shrieking something about "how dare you steal her man!!!!" and blah blah blah "I'll show you, you good for nothing hussy!!!!" as if you could actually understand her and this wasn't a three act play you insisted on writing yourself. You weren't even sure this bear was a girl if you stopped to think about it in between punches, not that you really cared. She huffs and makes a valiant attempt to pin you as you snarl and flash your teeth and beat her right back into the creek laughing at what sounds like pathetic winging about "kids these days!!!" and how rude you are for-

A startled noise pauses your match, as you both turn, harsh glares towards a break in the thicket where a very out of place, very surprised looking man stands, hand infuriatingly poised casually at his chin. His infuriating smirk doesn't unfurl until you growl, deep and low reverberating through your opponent just enough that she decides to leave for the day while you are preoccupied.

"Oya, this is a surprise." Jade doesn't move and you stay firm in the creek, body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he decides to move just a bit closer. "If you were that desperate for a sparring partner, I'm sure Floyd would have obliged, animal abuse is not exactly legal you know?"

"What the fuck are you doing here." You spit before you exit the creek, a flash of something darting through Jade's eyes as his gaze darts between you and your pack on the ground.

"Me? I should be asking that of you. The Mountain Lover's Club had to go through quite an ordeal to get permission to leave the school grounds unsupervised..." His teeth begin to show as you crash down from your high, you hadn't actually thought of whether or not you would need to talk to someone other than a friend about where you were going... surely Riddle would have mentioned something if you did? Or did he not think to ask since he wasn't the adventurous sort? "I can't imagine how the Headmage would react to know his ward had been sneaking out to terrorize the local wildlife."

"Hey Brenda started it!" You snap and Jade looks briefly towards the treeline where a very indignant bear is pursing her lips and inspecting her claws, the very picture of innocence if he does say so himself. "She stole my sandwich while I was taking pictures of the sunset!"

"Maybe you should have had someone there to hold it for you." He laughs, finally moving from his spot towards you and your pack, eyes gleaming with familiarity as he looks over your things. "Perhaps, someone who would be willing to... forget about what he just saw if they accompanied him next time?" It's a threat using what gives you joy against you certainly, and you huff indignantly at it but don't deny his request. Jade is an eel of his word, and his joy at doubling the Mountain Lover's Club membership cannot be contained as he ushers you the rest of the way down the mountain, eager to plan your first expedition together.

Not that he intends to ever delete the pictures he took. Your angry face is just too cute.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #<3 asks #jade leech x yuu #jade: why yes my lockscreen is my partner fighting a bear #what do you mean yours can't do that? skill issue :/ #idk this sucks just take it i needed to warm up before working on my longer stuff

[maybank-archives]

jealous - jj maybank

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warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. public sex. fingering. vaginal sex. unprotected sex. language. dirty talking.

word count: 1.4k

author’s notes: that's a wrap, speaking of it, use protection kids :)

masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober masterlist!!!!

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Sure, this doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all, hooking up with your friend, what could possibly go wrong?

I sat there watching the third touron flirt with him as he poured their drinks. Sure, we are not a couple or anything, but we have been mackin' each other for a while now and who knew that I would suck in this whole no-strings-attached thing? All I know is I was dumb enough to go along with it. This is classic JJ.

I was able to ignore him for most of the night, until now. I saw him getting closer in my periphery but my proud self pretended to be busy talking to Sarah or even looking at the people.

“Can I offer you, ladies, fun?” JJ says handing Sarah a drink and holding out his hand. He waited for my response as Sarah grabbed hers.

“No, thank you,” I tell him without moving an inch.

“C’mon Y/N, I'm already here, just take it.” He insisted

“I’m good Maybank, I need to take care of something actually, I’ll be right back Sarah.” 

Lies, I just didn’t want to stay around him, I don’t even know why I’m this annoyed. For my luck there were a bunch of girls gathered at the bathroom door, Fuck that, I needed another way out. I walked out of the bar on the beach and made my way to the street.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up.” I hear JJ’s voice behind me. 

“Go away JJ” I shout.

“Woah, what are you doing?”. He asks, grabbing my hand.

“I'm going home. Why do you care?.” I said reaching for my keys in the back pocket of my jeans skirt.

“Your home is not this way, what’s wrong?.” he insisted. 

I didn’t answer. JJ snatches the keys out of my hand which made me sigh loud annoyed

“Can I have my keys back please?” 

“Not until you start talking,” he said, pulling me into the back of the bar. “What the hell happened for you to start acting like a brat?”

“I don't know, why don't you ask your new friends?.” I replied with a dry tone. “I didn't know they were your type by the way,” I added, reaching for my keys but JJ was faster and held them high.

His blue eyes narrow with a hint of intrigue on them. A smirk showed up in the corners of his mouth as he realized. “And I had no idea you were the jealous type.” He teases, making you scoff.

“I just don't like being another one in your books, but it's ok, we can end this and you're free to have all the fun in the world.” My cheeks heat up.

“I'm not mackin’ anybody but you Y/N.”

“That’s not what it looks like.” I accuse.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?.” He said

Damn him, how does he do this? 

I want to kill myself. There’s no way I’ll say a word when he couldn’t be less bothered.

“Fine.” I swallow. “Can I go now?” I try to grab my keys but he keeps them out of my reach again.

“Nope, you’re still pissed,” he says flatly.

“I’m not.”

“Ha.Bullshit.What the fuck happened?” he snaps

“I’m not blind JJ, If you want to go, just go okay? I don't know what I'm still doing here.” I snap back “I’m… I’m done with this.” The words burst out before I could stop them. “Whatever this is. It's done okay?”

JJ’s eyebrows are furrowed. His expression is a mix of confusion and shock. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“No way,” he says again. “You can’t just call it off without giving me a good reason.”

“I don't like to see how you look to other girls.”

That sounds insane if I say it out loud. Who the fuck am I?

“Are you telling me you’re not into me anymore? Is that the deal?”

“No. But—”

“There are no ‘buts’, baby doll. It’s a simple yes or no answer,” he whispered, leaning in. My breath hitched. Fuck. His gaze held mine, leaving me unsure if it was anger or just desire.

“I-I don’t have a reason,” I confess trying to escape

“How about I help you clear your mind and decide? How does that sound?” He said putting my keys into his pocket.

Before I can realize it, I’m against the wall and his mouth is inches away from mine. Luckily, I guess, we’re almost hidden between a dumpster and a bunch of cardboard boxes. JJ’s scent made my brain foggier as he pressed his body onto mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed my attention baby?.”

I clench my jaw.

“So you’re still into me?” He places his thighs between both of mine, grinding me against his erection.

I’m trying so hard to focus that it’s impossible for me to reply.

“Something tells me you still do.” His lips brush over my ear, making my nipples sensitive against the lace of my bra. 

I’m frozen in place, it’s ridiculous how wet I’m. Now I remembered why I was so attracted to JJ in the first place.

His blue eyes are deep and penetrating, locked onto mine. I watch him smirk and push the hem of my skirt up, cupping my core. I arched my back under his touch.

JJ doesn’t seem to care that we’re in public, he dips his finger under the crotch of my panties rubbing the wetness. “Yup, seems bout right.” He murmurs as his lips kiss my neck. He pushes one finger inside and my muscles tightenin around it. 

His lips found their way to mine. He’s hesitant for a second watching me lean closer.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist.” He mocks crashing our lips eagerly.

Oh God. This feels sinful. All I can concentrate on is the unbearable pleasure centered between my legs. JJ keeps fingering me as he devours my lips. He bites the bottom of my lip as he breaks the kiss.

“You’re so needy. It’s super hot.” 

“J...People can see us, please.” I whine

“Let’s give them a show then,” JJ adds another finger, curling them inside me, my vision gets dark as hits a spot deep down. I moan embarrassingly loud. I Rock against his hand, no longer protesting.

My vision comes back, focusing when JJ takes his fingers out of me. He unzips his shorts watching me. I should definitely protest to that, someone really might see us. But the only response I could give, was a nod with my head.

JJ flashed me a mischievous smile before sping me around in the wall.

His breath fans over my neck as he lifts my skirt more. I can tell how long I’ll last. JJ has the ability of knowing how my body works. That’s why I collapsed under his touch in seconds. The thrill of everything about this moment also wasn’t a big help. 

JJ gives a deep thrust as his hand is wrapped under my throat. I grip my hands onto JJ’s waist as he increases the pace. 

“I’m not gonna last long princess.” He murmurs as his hands are now on my waist lifting my ass. “You better cum faster.” I spread my legs wider as he says.

Crazy to think that a few minutes ago I was so against the idea of being fucked in public.

JJ flips me over again, this time facing me, he grabs one of my legs to his hips, I wrap around him deepening the contact, JJ gives me a wet kiss on my chest and a big suck on the skin of my neck. The orgasm races through me and leaves me breathless. I feel my legs shake. I held onto JJ’s shoulders as I whined. JJ gives a barely audible groan and buries his head between my neck and shoulder as he pumps into me.

He wasn’t kidding. He comes so fast that is hard to decide whether I should be impressed or tease him about it. He pushed his shaft into me one last time as his hand clamped my tight and hip.

Both of us breathless, we hear voices around us, I push JJ away and shove my dress down. JJ peeks and sees some figures pass us by a few steps away without realizing our presence.

JJ tucks his still-hard cock into his shorts looking to the sides.

“For a person that was talking about giving a show, you look very concerned,” I teased fixing my clothes.

“And for a person who was wet just from talking to me, you still act very bitchy. Didn’t I fucked you right?”

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[lacedinweb22]

Drunk and Crushing (Pt. 2) (Miguel O’Hara x reader)

🕸️ Entangled Series 🕸️ ch. 5 prev part

Summary: After you escape the chaos of the party and find shelter in the downstairs bathroom with Miguel, you get bold. You’re both drunk and vulnerable. Your feelings are impossible to ignore… or hide.

CW: self sabotage, retching, oblivious & painful character behavior, drunkenness >:)

Author’s note: I made this playlist of muffled tracks that I listened to NONSTOP while writing this chapter! PLEASE listen to them in the playlist’s order while reading! They fit the scenes so WELLL and the lyrics match the mood perfectly ❤️‍🔥

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrEXY2MI6p5edEO8pLnkNilq65067VNUu

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

We found an unoccupied bathroom downstairs. There was still an overwhelming amount of drunk university students filling the house, but this shelter sufficed. Kendrick Lamar’s “LOVE” played, muffled and seeping through the walls. I sat myself on the bathtub edge, feeling myself get heavier; the drunkenness had creeped up on me.

I paused my overwhelming thought traffic and looked up at Miguel, who was leaning back against the sink counter. He gripped the edge of the counter; his fingers tightly flexed, displaying his muscular, bruised up hands.

The restroom was dark, lit only by a small purple lamp; there was still enough light to see the pink in my cheeks and the red and purple in his knuckles.

He looked down at me as I scanned his entire figure: his muscles, scars, his clothes. I circled back to his eyes; he was so much higher above me, his gaze looking down on me. It felt so… dirty. He tilted his head at me, questioning my gaze. I looked away nervously, realizing how it looked. I looked down at the soda can still in my hand.

“This can is so dented, did you drop it?” I asked, laughing. He looked at the can, then back at me, “No, yes, I– yeah, I dropped it. Some douche bumped into me,” he explained, suspiciously slow. “Hmph,” I scoffed. “Wait a minute… that reminds me, wheredidyou go earlier formysoda? You were gone forawhile. You just disappeared. You’vebeendoingthat alotlately. Disappearing. Ditching me.” The slurred words escaped me so easily.

“I…a… friend called me outside to… deal with this fight that was breaking out, and I… had to stop it. So I, you know, went out and reasoned with them, worked it out,” he explained, nodding, reassuring himself that his story was believable. I continued, “Mmmmkay… and our study date– sessions you couldn’t make it to? That you canceled on or ditched after a few minutes? What’s the excuse for those?” “I told you, my brother has a shitty car and I’m the one he calls to work on it.” I rolled my eyes. “Gabriel’s a fucking tech god. A literal engineer, right? But okay, sure, whatever you say Miguel,” I muttered, shaking my head, and rubbing my tired eyes.

“I mean if you have… like a girl, or… a sneakylink, or whatever just fucking say it. I mean it’sfine, O’Hara, you’re my friend. We can talk about thesekindsofthings,” I insisted, bitterly.

“There’s absolutely no girl,” he replied, firmly. “The only girl, who is actively in my life— who I want in my life, is you. You’re the girl, okay? You’re the sneakylink minus thesneaky. You’re the link. But not sex, I mean you’re thegirl I want to hangoutwith–” he drunkenly blurted.

“I’m the girl?” I repeated, hiding my smile in my hands. Though I didn’t believe he was gone breaking up a fight, my pounding heart overpowered my confusion; listening to him stumble over his words made my stomach burst with butterflies. “So you–” or with alcohol. I dropped to my knees and puked into the toilet. “Fuck, Y/N,” Miguel exclaimed, as he dropped to the floor with me. He brushed my hair back and held it in his hand. I groaned. Yep, I’m fucked. I’m so drunk. He rubbed my back. He grabbed his water bottle and aided it to my lips.

“I mean since we’re asking all these questions, who was that guy you met up with earlier?” he asked, still holding my hair. “Mmm funny you assume it was a guy… do you mean Jenn?” I breathed out into the toilet bowl, ready to vomit again. He breathed out, relieved. “Whatwas that?” I questioned, turning around looking up at him. “What, what?” he replied, acting clueless. “You breathed out like ughhhHHHHH,” I mimicked.

“Shhhh! Stop moaning, people are going to think we’re fucking in here. They’re right outside the door,” he blurted out, trying to shush me. I’m so drunk. My body was not obeying me. Maybe the subconscious version of me deep inside, but not the me I needed it to obey.

“I wish we were.” FUCK. I caught myself, “I wishwewere… back home” FUCK. “At my apartment so we couldddd play videogames. Hahaha yeah…” I finished off quietly, staring at him, waiting for him to shut me down. Fucking drunk idiot, stop talking, shut up. His eyebrows knit together as his eyes explored my face, trying to decipher the words slurring out of my mouth. “Okay, Y/N,” he breathed out, brushing my hair back, “you’re…drunk,” he said, looking at my hair in his hands. I hate him. My head felt heavier.

I could absolutely not keep my thoughts inside. Fucking drunk word vomit.

My eyes brushed his. God I wish you knew. “God I wish you knew.”

“Knew what?” he responded, his eyes reignited with curiosity. “What?” I responded. “You said you wish I knew,” he responded, grabbing my shoulder, trying to shake the drunkenness and truth out of me.

“Oh shit, was that out… loud?” I breathed out, holding back my vomit. “I don’tknow maybe that… I wish you knewwhatIwasthinking, or maybe I wishyoufeltwhat I feel…” I closed my eyes, my mouth defeated my common sense. “I mean come ONNN, Miguel, you’re so good at physics, and shit, but you– you don’t see this? You solve all those equations, but you can’t figure this out? Nope, obliviousMiguel, hahahhshsifhmm, remember when you called me oblivious? Ironic,” I slurred, smiling with my eyes closed.

I leaned into the toilet again to retch. I barfed what seemed like a gallon of soda and tequila. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, holding my hair and rubbing my back. “I’m sorry, this is my fault, I should’ve been watching you, I-I should have watched how much you drank,” he scolded himself. He sat on his knees behind me, much taller than me, then lowered his head to rest on my shoulder, still holding my hair. His cheek pressed against the back of my shoulder, then he slowly turned, his lips now pressing against me. He’s drunk. My face remained hovering into the toilet. There was a lot going on.

“Ugh that was it. That was the one,” I groaned. I started to stand up, as Miguel remained on his knees. He wrapped his big hands around my waist to help me up. Once I stood up, I chugged mouthwash and rinsed the bitter taste away. I turned to find Miguel sitting on the floor, against the wall, staring at me, longingly. His eyes were darker, different. His cheeks were pink, his face dewy.

“I’m feeling it,” he muttered, looking up at me. I walked over to him, standing above him, as he looked up at me. “Very good. Now we can be in the same place,” I said, mischievously smiling down at him.

“We’ve always beenin thesame place, just at different times… I don’t know what I’m saying,” he groaned as he rested his face in his hands. I handed him the water bottle. “Drink some, Mig.” He nodded and drank.

“I feel so gross and sweaty,” I groaned. “Is it weird to shower here? I’ll ask Lizzie,” I muttered. I strained my brain power to call Lizzie to ask if I could use the shower. This shower should sober me up. It needs to.

“I got the greenlight!!” I exclaimed to Miguel. He remained silently sitting resting his face in his hands. I crouched down in between his legs. “Mig, are you okay?” “Just tired, and… drunk,” he breathed out.

“Okay, I’m gonna take a shower, but you sit here. Give me five minutes.” He got up, closed the toilet, and sat. I stood in front of him, as he remained sitting on the toilet. He watched and seemingly admired me as I pinned my hair up.

“I’m going to change my clothes in the shower, before I turn on the water. Do you think I could hand you my clothes?” I asked. He nodded, with loyal puppy dog eyes.

I took off my socks and shoes then got into the tub and closed the shower curtain. “Fuck, it’s slippery,” I gasped, almost slipping. “Be careful. No, wait, you’re drunk. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” he responded, his voice getting louder as he stood up. I could see his shadow through the curtain. “I’ll be fine,” I responded. I began taking off my jewelry and placing it into his hand, which peeked through the curtain as he looked away.

I then took off my dress, and handed it to him. Then my bra, and finally my underwear.

“You’re so obedient,” I teased, giving him my panties. I placed it slowly into his hand. I watched his fingertips feel for a hint of what he was feeling, then his grip tightened as he finally looked down to see what it was. “Yeah… well, that’sthe effect you haveonme,” he slurred as he looked down at my lace underwear. He quickly looked back up and placed it on the counter without looking. He’s drunk.

“Shit Miguel, it’s catching up to you, I mean it caught up to you” I laughed, as I started the water and stood in the corner of the shower, peeking out at him. He sat back down, looking at his hands in his lap. The steam began to fill the restroom.

I heard shuffling and peeked to find Miguel taking off his moto jacket. He was now just wearing his snug form-fitting t-shirt. His back muscles were so fucking visible now. I watched him from behind the curtain, his muscles flexing as he adjusted his shirt. I admired his huge biceps being squeezed through the snug cotton sleeves, and his veiny forearms resting in his lap. It’s like he’s testing the durability of his fucking shirt.

He took a deep breath then looked back up at me to find me watching him. “Sorry– I,” I muttered as he immediately looked back down at his hands as I closed the curtain and started to soak myself in the warm water.

I stared at the tile walls when a huge shadow towered over me through the curtain. “Miguel? Are you… there, and okay?” I asked, nervously. “I just need… to stand up. I’m fucked up,” he muttered. I peeked out of the curtain. He was pacing back and forth in the small restroom, his eyes furrowed as he stretched an arm across his chest. He looked at me, his gaze softened, then nervously looked down and turned around to keep pacing.

I rinsed off then turned off the water. “Miguel, could you–” “Here,” he replied as he handed me a towel through the curtains. “Okay, I’m goingto come out, but you’re going to need to close your eyes,” I warned. “Got it,” he replied. “Are they closed?” “Yes.”

I slowly got out of the tub, and stood on the mat. He was facing me, eyes closed. I dried off, then took off my towel and hung it up. As I let my hair down and slowly slid my underwear on, I felt a burst of daringness. That shower didn’t sober me up enough. “Can you help me… ummm put my bra on?” I muttered. “What? Your–” “Bra, yes. And you also need to zip my dress up. That’s the Y/N-coming-to-a-party-with-you tax,” “so this is a commonly paid tax,” he muttered. Is he jealous? I smiled at the thought. “You’re so dumb. No. Only you,” I muttered, as I watched his lips fight a smile, “Miguel, just… shut up and help me.” I grabbed his hands, as his eyes remained closed and put them on my shoulders.

“Okay, see here are myshoulders. I’m going toturnaround, then youaregoing to go down to myback and feelmybra and hookit okay?” I breathed out. “Okay,” he responded, quietly. I turned around as his hands brushed my back. He moved my hair to the side of my neck, then traced his fingers down my back to find my bra. His warm, calloused hands brushed against my skin. Chills shot through my body. “Fuck,” I breathed out, accidentally. “What? What did I do?” he asked quickly. “Nothing, I was just— nothing,” I blurted. He scoffed then took a deep breath.

He hooked it. “Okay, now dress,” I pulled the dress up, and turned for him to zip it from the back. “Reach your hands out again,” I instructed. His hands touched my hair, then brushed down to the zipper right above my ass. His knuckles brushed my underwear then up my back as he zipped it slowly.

I turned around. His eyes were still closed, his cheeks growing pink. I tiptoed so I was closer to his face. I looked up at his lips. I could kiss him so easily right now. His eyebrows scrunched, “Are you almost ready? Is it okay?” he whispered. “Mhmm,” I whispered back, facing him. I leaned closer to his lips. He breathed through his nose, his warm breath caressing my lips. I want to kiss you so bad. I took a deep breath. You’re drunk. I lowered my heels back to the ground.

“You can look now,” I sighed, as I looked in the mirror and fixed my smudged eyeliner.

He watched me, his reflection in my peripheral vision. He sat back on the toilet and turned to watch me put my necklaces on.

I finished, then walked to him. I stood in between his legs. He looked up at me then down at my neck. “I like the new one. I see you replaced the one you gave me,” he whispered, pulling the black cord necklace I gave him from out under his shirt. I traced my fingertips around it, smiling down at him. He still wears it. He raised his fingertips to my neck then whispered, “Can I?” I nodded. I kneeled down, our faces now level to each other.

He traced his fingers along my necklace. “So beautiful,” he whispered, looking at my necklace then up to my lips.

I leaned closer into him. His fingertips traced from my necklace to my cheek, caressing my burning, flushed skin. This is so new. I sighed, my stomach overwhelmed with butterflies.

“I can hear your heart racing,” he whispered. “What— how?” I whispered, putting my hand on my chest to feel it. “I… have great hearing, you know this, my senses are impeccable,” he replied, shrugging. “If only your amazing senses extended to mind reading,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“You know, Y/N, I can read you… most of the time,” he said, brushing my hair out of my face. “Okay, then what am I thinking right now?” “I have my guesses,” he replied, looking at my lips then up into my eyes. His longing eyes painted him desperate. Does he mean it? What is he thinking?

Miguel leaned in; I followed, leaning in slowly, our lips close to touching. Is he going to do what I was too scared to? His thumb traced my cheek, as he looked back and forth between my lips and eyes.

Our lips finally met.

And it was everything I dreamt it to be. The kiss was warm, and raw, no holding back, just drunk honest passion. His lips were soft, and he tasted like dr. pepper. He’s so addictive; I want to stay here forever. No confusion, or self-doubt, just him and I in our small corner of this chaotic party.

I stroked his face, then combed my fingers into his waves, my thumb never losing contact with his cheek. The kiss intensified as he grabbed my waist, pulling me closer, and kissing me harder.

Eventually, to my disappointment, our lips gently parted.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, “I’ve wanted this… for so long,” he whispered, his eyes drowsy. I searched his gaze. He looked like he meant it. But he’s drunk. A wave of anxiety crashed onto me, disrupting the bliss I had been chasing for so long.

He doesn’t want me. He’s drunk. This shouldn’t have happened like this.

“You don’t mean that, no, we can’t– we can’t,” I groaned, pulling away. “Yes, we can… Why not?” he replied softly and drunkenly, his eyes still drowsy. His hand reached to mine as he held it in between us.

He read my face then looked at me worriedly, snapping out of it. “Fuck, I’m sorry, was that not okay? Did I–” he rambled, panicking. “I’m sorry, I’m drunk… you know, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” I whispered.

“Well that sucks. I… really wish you did,” he muttered, looking at me, confused.

I remained on my knees, looking down at my hand in his. His eyes were stuck on mine, trying to read me.

Overwhelming silence filled the small restroom; not even the music bleeding into the room could save us.

I reasoned desperately, “I just– I know you don’t want this, you know? I know you don’t like me like that… you don’t mean it— I know you don–”

His eyebrows furrowed, “And why couldn’t I like you? How would you know?” he asked, irritated. I pulled my hand from his as I stood up, away from him.

“Because, you don’t want this! You’re drunk, Miguel. You don’t get to have this when you’re drunk and it’s fun and convenient for you since I’m the only one around,” I blurted, angrily.

I looked down at him; he looked up at me confused. He closed his eyes, looked down, took a deep breath, then whispered, “Y/N, you don’t know what I want. I want you— and I’m confused, why can’t you just let me… I want you. Why can’t we try, why can’t we just give this–”

“Miguel, you’re not getting it. I am just a spur of the moment type of thing to you! This is real to me, and to you this is just drunkenness–”

“Y/N, I’m not–”

“Yes, Miguel, you are drunk,”

“Stop putting words into my mouth! I am drunk but I want you, sober or not!”

Silence.

“I just… I have to feel this way, everyday. These feelings of desperation, an-and longing for you every single moment of every single day every time I see you, knowing I can’t have you, and you don’t want me like that… this isn’t fair,” I exclaimed, turning around to the sink, “You disappear, you come back, cheeks flushed, I mean, Miguel, who were you really with? Who do you leave me for? Stop lying to me, just tell me the truth, that’s all I want, just tell me…”

I looked down, trying to control my anger and the tears I felt welling up. “Forget it, forget it.” I can’t handle the lies he’s going to feed to me. Or the truth.

He stood up, hovering over me as I cried silently over the sink. “Did you not see all 100 frat boys watching you walk into here? Do you not see me trying to keep you near me, away from them? There’s only you—” he argued, drunkenly but still firmly. “God, Miguel, everyone was looking at you! How fucking oblivious are you? Everyone that wants you and everyone who wishes they were being looked at by all of those beautiful girls. They. Were. Looking. At. You,” I exclaimed. “They’re jealous I’m with YOU,” he exclaimed back. He’s fucking delusional. “Sure, yeah, that makes alotttt of sense! Yeah, definitely,” I scoffed. “You’re ridiculous,” he sharply replied, turning away.

I sighed and shook my head. He doesn’t get it.

Or maybe I just ruined everything.

“I–I have to go, I need to– need to go home,” I whispered as I reached for the door. His hand grabbed my wrist.

“No, just… stay,” he whispered.

I turned and looked up at him. He stood against me, his hand still gripping my wrist. He looked down at me, his eyebrows furrowed upwards, begging me, “Please,” he continued, “this one time… for me.”

That could be enough for me to stay.

I looked down and closed my eyes. Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Y/N, we can’t say ‘goodnight’ and still be mad at each other,” he explained, “Can you listen to me, can you just let me explain–”

The door began to rattle against my back as someone knocked violently on the other side. Miguel sighed as we both moved out of the way and opened the door. A couple looked at us grumpily. We both grabbed our stuff then left the restroom.

I sped walked through the crowd.

“Y/N, please, let’s just talk some– somewhere quiet, just the two of us. You can’t leave upset, that’s our #1 rule, and I don’t want you walking alone, especially not after what happened last month,” he called out behind me.

I turned around, as we stood in a large crowd looking across at each other. The neon lights lit up his face in the dark. If I wasn’t so drunk, and so upset with him, if I ignored the truth, the fact that he’s hiding something from me, I would kiss him. I would let the lights and the music blind and deafen me, because it wouldn’t matter. All I would feel is him. But I am drunk, and I know he’s lying.

We were in a chaotic bubble of people pushing and drinking, but I could only see him. He looked at me desperately, as I kept my face stern. “Y/N, I’ll explain— why I’ve been disappearing, I just—” “You don’t need to. Not anymore. I can’t keep pretending this ‘us’ and ‘ours’ thing isn’t tearing me up inside. And… it’s fine, I’ll be fine. I need to be alone.”

I walked out, called a cab, and waited outside on the lawn surrounded by loud drunk people. I cried, hugging myself as I watched Miguel walk drunkenly, down the street and into the night.

to be continued…

next part

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara atsv #miguel o hara #spider verse #atsv x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara imagine #miguel spiderman

[neo404]

Reader painting nicks nails ( he doesn’t do a good job but nick don’t want to hurt his feelings)

Nick and reader having self-care nights where they do skin care , paint each other’s nails , cuddle and watch movies

/Could be two different ones or they can also go together/

Sleepover.

Summary: Nick and you have a self-care sleepover.

Tw: cursing.

Note: I invented names for Nick and reader to gossip about while painting each others nails.

‘’What was this?’’ Nick says grabbing one of the many bottles on my skin care bag.

‘’That’s moisturizer, that’s what we have to do now, and then we can move to the face masks.’’

‘’Oh, that’s nice. We bought the ones with animal faces on them, right?’’

‘’Yes. How are you feeling your face?’’ I look at Nick who’s looking at himself in the mirror of his bathroom, with a baby blue head band to keep his hair out of his face, he looks so cute.

‘’It actually feels… clean? I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels good.’’

‘’Nice, that’s the whole point of this. Now, time to moisturize.’’ I grab the bottle and squeeze out a few drops into my hands, patting them all over Nick’s face, massaging it a bit, he closes his eyes and leans into my touch.

‘’This is so nice. I love it.’’ He murmurs.

‘’I’m glad, baby.’’ I keep rubbing his face, a tiny smile forming in my face, loving the relaxation I can bring to my boyfriend. ‘’Okay, my turn now.’’

‘’All right.’’ Nick pours a bit too much of moisturize into his hands and starts to rub it into my face. ‘’This feels like massaging dough, it’s so funny.’’

‘’Did you just call me dough?’’ I try to hold in my laughter.

‘’Yes, my little dough. I’ll eat you up, nom nom.’’

‘’God, you are so corny.’’ I smile widely, his hands drawing circles all over my face.

‘’You love it when I’m corny.’’

‘’True, I do love it. I think that’s enough.’’ I look at us in the mirror and smile. ‘’Now, we can do the face masks on the bed while we paint our nails.’’

‘’Yes, let’s do that.’’ He walks to his bed where a few bottles of nail polish were laying. ‘’I haven’t picked a color yet.’’ I turn off the light of the bathroom and go sit next to him.

‘’You can think while you paint mine.’’

‘’True. Maybe we can match, you leave your pinkies finger without painting, and when I choose, I’ll paint it the same color. And I’ll paint my pinkies the same color as your nail, so we are matching.’’

‘’That’s an amazing idea, I love it.’’ I open my backpack that was at the foot of the bed, grabbing the face masks we bought earlier. ‘’So, we have these string for the eyebags and on top I’ll put the animal face masks. Come closer so I can put them on you.’’ Nick sits closer, our legs touching, I open the plastic and take out two orange strings, putting them under his eyes, then I grab the bigger package and pull out the tiger facemask, putting it into his face, making sure is well adjusted and it doesn’t fall.

I put mine by myself, my mask is a bunny one, and Nick laughs while I put it on. ‘’We look so goofy.’’ He says, taking his phone out, taking a few pictures of us and myself. ‘’All right, what color do you want your nail?’’

‘’Hm, I think I’ll go for black.’’

‘’Good choice, a classic. So, are we gonna gossip like they do on nail salons?’’ he says while grabbing the black nail polish and opening it up.

‘’God, yes.’’ Nick grabs my hand and puts it on top of a pillow that he rested on top of his lap.

‘’So, what do you think about Laura’s new girlfriend?’’ he starts painting my nails precisely.

‘’Oh god, don’t get me started on that. I think she’s bad for Laura, like it’s super controlling and she doesn’t even realize.’’

‘’That’s what I’m saying. Like, girl, how can she tell you ‘No, you CAN’T go out with that dress’, what do you mean I CAN’T, I’ll do whatever I want with my body, fuck off.’’ Nick blows softly into my right-hand nails, giving some retouches here and there. ‘’Give me your other hand, be careful with that one, it’s not fully dried yet.’’ He grabs my other hand and puts it on the pillow. ‘’Also, Laura has been really mean to us lately, like, she’s letting that crazy girl manipulate her. I can’t believe it.’’

‘’I swear, you know who has been kind weird lately?’’

‘’Austin?’’

‘’Yes. Like, the whole sports scholarship got really got into his head, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him but he’s acting like he is Lebron James.’’

‘’I swear, like, chill. You don’t need a security guard to go to a fucking restaurant.’’ Nick blows on my nails and smiles at himself. ‘’Done, and I decided what color I want mine. Purple!’’

‘’Cool, we have two shades of purple, this one that’s more like… pastel purple and this is like… grape purple, I think.’’ I hold the two bottles infront of our eyes, letting him analyze them.

‘’Hm, grape purple. That’s the one.’’ I nod and open the bottle up. ‘’So, what do we think about Alexs new hair color?’’

‘’God, I love it, it compliments their eyes.’’ I say slowly painting his nails, I bite down on my lip trying to keep my hand as steady as I can.

‘’Yeah right. I think it’s a bold color, but it looks nice on them. Going back to Lauras girlfriend, did you know that she said Alex wanted to kiss Laura? So now she’s not allowed to hang out with just them.’’

‘’Really?’’ I mutter, paying most of my attention to his nails, but even then, I still painted unto his fingers.

‘’-After that Laura texted me and… are you even listening to me?’’ I look up from his nail into his eyes and shrug my shoulders.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ I whisper. ‘’I’m not very good at this.’’ I say looking at his nails ashamed.

‘’Aw, it’s all right. You are doing an amazing job. Plus, I can retouch them later.’’

‘’Okay. What were you saying?’’ I say getting back to painting his nails, slowly, but less anxious about it. Nick and I talked and talked, until the nail polish dried.

‘’All right, time to cuddle.’’ He opens up his arms and I crawl into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck, Nick lays back, pulling the both of us into the mattress. ‘’You are so comfy. Thanks for today, I loved every part of it.’’

‘’Even your poorly painted nails?’’

‘’Even my amazing nails painted by my handsome boyfriend.’’ He kisses my cheek.

#nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets x reader

[justalittleficsideblog]

Heeeyyyyy

I saw your requests were open so here i am.

Umm maybe you can do a fic where Lucifer gets hit by a truth potion, so he starts acting soft and all with mc. But mc thinks that a love potion has hit him and he doesn't mean any word he says. But after the potion wears off, they find out that lucifer was being his true self afterall??

I really dont know where do i want this to go but after nightbringer angst some fluff is what o need.

Love anonymous👑

Hello there anon! This is such an adorable prompt omg omg I hope that this meets your expectations! <3. I kinda made this fluffy / angsty? Lucifer is horrid with emotion that isnt pissed off so here we go! Also this turned out a shit ton longer than I expected so...

synopsis: Sneaky Solomon slips something into Lucifer's tea after he becomes annoyed with his emotional constipation. How will Lucifer fare during his outing with you? wk: 1.6k You Can't Handle the Truth!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

Lucifer found himself rubbing his temples in irritation as Diavolo and Solomon eagerly continued on their private conversation.

“You are both aware that a meeting involves the entire body communicating,” he huffed, staring daggers at Solomon specifically.

Diavolo glanced at Lucifer and then back to Solomon, looking all to pleased with whatever their conversation had been about… Lucifer felt his stomach churn, Diavolo teaming up with Solomon never ended well.

“Let’s take a brief recess!” Diavolo sprouted, “It seems I am a bit distracted.”

Rolling his eyes but glad for the reason to stretch his legs, Lucifer pushed back from the table and hurried out to clear his head and look at his D.D.D.

MC: Hey, are we still on for tonight? I’m dying to try out that new bakery café restaurant thing

He smiled softly down at the notification from you, feeling some of his stress ease as he read the message over.

Lucifer: The meeting is almost over.

Lucifer: It will be nice to go over the items Diavolo needs us to prepare for RAD without my brothers around.

MC: ahh… ok!

Meanwhile, during Lucifer’s distraction Barbatos had readied fresh tea for everyone in the meeting. Unbeknownst to him (not really, he just pretended not to see to appease Lord Diavolo), Solomon had slipped in a tiny bit of truth potion into Lucifer’s glass.

Clicking off his device, he sauntered back into the meeting room. Now motivated to finish the meeting off sooner, he mimicked Diavolo as he sat down; sipping his tea he collected his notes.

Diavolo had a worryingly wicked grin on his face. “Are you truly this excited about the upcoming event at RAD?” he questioned, eyebrow raising thoughtfully.

“Why of course,” the soon-to-be-king sauntered. “And I presume that you and MC will be meeting soon to finish discussing preparations?”

“This evening, actually.” He admitted, strangely… quicker than he was expecting.

“Are you excited? To meet with them?” Solomon inquired, noticing Lucifer had drank a sizeable amount from his glass.

Lucifer’s breath caught, realizing words were spitting out before he could help it, “Yes. I’m very excited.” His hand slapped over his mouth, “What the hell is going on?”

Diavolo and Solomon erupted in laughter together, their bodies shaking at the eldest’s misfortune.

“Well… Solomon needed to try out a new elixir for a truth serum. And since you’ve been so…” He trailed off, looking towards his partner in crime.

“—emotionally constipated.” The latter quipped in.

“Ah... yes, I guess that would be a sufficient way to describe it,” Diavolo laughed. “We thought you could use this to loosen up with them tonight, your brothers won’t be around and I’m sure MC would appreciate the deep conversation I am sure you two will be having over dinner.”

With that, Diavolo stood. Meeting, adjourned.

---------

You started up with a jolt as you heard the door to the House of Lamination slam.

I take it the meeting must’ve not gone exceptionally well….

Grabbing your things, you headed down the staircase and met Lucifer, who had a very hard time meeting your eyes.

“Are… are you alright?” You asked, hand resting on his shoulder as you looked up to him in concern.

“No!” he blurted, eyes widening as you saw a blush creep it’s way up his neck. “Ahem… let’s just go. I assume you are ready?”

Shrinking back, you furrowed your brows in confusion at his attitude. “What the hell happened?”

Without a pause, he replied, “Solomon and Lord Diavolo have decided to test some sort of potion on me for the evening…” The words tumbled out of his mouth, and he slapped his hands over his mouth as he strode out of the house, you following close behind.

What the hell…? You thought. Studying Lucifer as you both went quietly to the restaurant, you noticed he had trouble looking at you, and was almost eager to respond to anything you had said. Did… Solomon give him….. a love potion?

You thought back to when you had eaten the suspicious pudding that had the brother’s going crazy because of the magical affect it had on them to be around you… was this something similar?

“So.. did Solomon trick you into eating or drinking something?” You inquired, entering through the restaurant’s door.

“Yes… and I am to assume the affects will last about 24 hours. I do apologize for this,” he finally looked at you before jumping into discussion with the host about his reservation.

As you were guided to the table you couldn’t help but feel like Lucifer was avoiding you, the way he tensed when you began speaking bothered you. Was being around you..difficult?

“Lucifer,” you started, taking a sip from the water that was placed on your table. “Is… is it hard to be around me?”

Damn the question for being so vague, Lucifer had no choice but to reply to your question in a general sense. “There are times it is painful to be near you, sitting near you even for this dinner is making me go crazy. My heart is beating erratically, and I can’t focus clearly on anything but you.”

He seemed to be breathing heavily, clearly upset by his own outburst.

Oh…. You thought, smirking slightly. It was most certainly a love potion that Solomon had given him. Poor guy, you rested your chin in your hand, fiddling the straw in your glass with your tongue. Catching Lucifer’s gaze, you asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Y-your tongue…”

“What about it?” you rested the glass down on the table.

“It’s... exciting me,” he coughed, his burning face turned away from you.

Oh… OH! Now you were the one who was blushing. I guess everything you do might be suggestive to him right now.

“Let’s go on towards the agenda for tonight,” you muttered. “Do you think Diavolo would wants these colors?”

Lucifer watched as you went on about the event planning, eternally grateful that you had changed the subject. If you had decided to ask him about his feelings somehow, he doesn’t know how he would manage. His blunder earlier had him crossing his legs, trying to shrink himself in embarrassment.

That fucking sorcerer, he seethed.

His eyes quipped towards you fiddling with the ends of your attire. Too caught up with his predicament, he had forgotten to compliment you on your stunning appearance this evening.

“Do you think Asmo went a bit overboard?” You suddenly piped up, gesturing towards your clothes. “I told him that I didn’t really like this kind of stuff, but he was so damn insisten—”

“I think you look particularly ravishing this evening,” he interrupted, eyes trailing down your form.

Ah hell, you had forgotten about the potion. Of course he would think you look good right now, he’s not in his right mind!

“I’m sorry, Lucifer. The whole potion thing slipped my mind for a moment,” you pondered sadly, your eyes gravitating towards the edge of the table where your food lay. “Do you want to end this early tonight?”

“No,” his own answer surprised him. “I do truly find enjoyment in your company. Having you to myself for an evening—”

It’s just the potion talking it’s just the potion talking, you reminded yourself. Oh, how you had hoped for the ever-stoic elder brother to utter those words to you. And maybe you could indulge in this side of him just once.

“And how do you feel towards me, Lucifer?” you teased, hoping to engage with this flirty side to him a bit longer. You had to admit, it was kind of fun.

You hadn’t expected his reply.

“It hurts to breathe when I look at you. Any time you enter a room all I hear is static and I lose the ability to focus on anything except you. Anywhere you touch me it burns, and yet somehow, I can never get enough of it. I am a moth to your flame, MC. I am hopelessly, irrevocably—"

“Lucifer, just stop. I know this whole love potion is making you say things you don’t mean.” You couldn’t bear to hear anymore, this was not a real confession.

He glanced up in shock, “Love potion? No, wait. You have the wrong idea.”

It was too late, you had already slammed your payment onto the table and walked out of the restaurant. You just wanted to sleep in your bed and forgot about the entire night.

As you climbed up the steps and swung open your door, you did not expect to see a silver haired sorcerer lounging on your bed.

“Well, hello! I was wondering if you have that textbook I lent you—”

“Cut the shit, Solomon. I’m not in the mood after the little prank you played on Lucifer today.”

To be fair, he really was there to grab a textbook, but now he was even more confused.

“What are you talking about? Didn’t things go well?”

“Quit acting like you don’t know! That love potion you gave him was a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

Suddenly, a grin broke out across the human’s face, his finger gently stroking his chin as he realized the situation.

“Darling, I never gave him a love potion, I gave him a truth elixir.”

You stood rigid, Solomon wouldn’t lie about that right…?

You turned around, but he was already gone. Collapsing onto the bed you replayed the events of the night. Oh god…. So that means, he really meant all of that?!

Tucking yourself into bed, you felt your cheeks grow hot.

Thanks, Solomon.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all.

#lucifer x reader #om! lucifer #obey me #shall we date #solomon x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #lucifer x mc #lucifer x you #did yall see the twilight line i threw in there #also when i started this it was not meant to be this long #but ugh it was so vesty i had too

[hibiscuswrites]

could we get a something-something for billy’s feelings on reader not understanding and genuinely thinking he’s pranking her when he asks her out? (but like she’s not freaking out crying, just declining nicely)

Note: As someone who's never been on a real romantic date and has only ever been asked out as a joke so people could laugh at me, writing this was very self-indulgent and cathartic, and to whoever sent this in, if you still follow and read my work, you are beautiful and wonderful, and worthy of all the love in the world 🥺💕 I also think I'll make another part to this or maybe a few where he shows her he means it

He thinks you're absolutely wonderful. You're smart and funny and helpful and kind and supportive and everything great that a person can be. But you're also plain beautiful. He thought so from the moment he laid eyes on you. Thought you were stunning and he wanted you. Not as a one-night stand. Not as arm candy for an event. He wanted you. So he had made it a point to get to know you as a friend. Sure you were technically his subordinate working for Anvil, but that didn't mean much to him. He wanted to spend time with you, and once he did and got to know you, he was hooked. Getting coffee with you here. Asking for your opinion on a new project there. You were his friend, and he was yours. And you enjoyed that.

So when your usual platonic coffee date ended with him telling you how beautiful he thought you were and asking you out to dinner the coming Saturday, you realized you knew it was too good to be true. You had thought he was just trying to be nice. Spending time with you and making a friend. But now you saw he was just like the others. Not immune to the childish pranks of peers, daring him to ask out the girl who was just so far out of his league so they could laugh and joke when you were naive enough to say yes. Or breathe out a sigh of relief when you said no. You had been subjected to it all before. But Billy had been your friend, you thought. You didn't see it coming from him. Ignoring the sting, you tried to keep your smile intact.

"No, that's ok. Thank you for the offer though."

He winced and rolled his shoulders, trying to laugh it off, not really used to rejection.

"Oh. Alright."

He finished off the last bit of his coffee and hoped you couldn't read his disappointment.

"I don't mean to pressure you, you're allowed to say no. I'm just wondering if there's a reason? Does Saturday not work for you? Or is it just...me."

His jaw was tense as he waited and suddenly he was a child again, just wishing that his love and care would be returned. Your shrug didn't help soften the blow, and neither did your small laugh.

"Saturday is fine. I just know this prank already. Been the butt of it plenty of times."

Billy's brows furrowed as he looked at you, head tilted, a sliver of hair falling to his forehead.

"Prank?"

"Yeah. Where the cute popular guy asks out the girl that looks like...me, and then you all have a good laugh about the fact that I thought I had a chance."

You chug the rest of your own coffee, eager to get out of there but Billy reaches forward, hand on the tip of your knee respectfully. His brown eyes look heartbroken when you look into them again.

"I...I wouldn't do that. That's not what I was doing. I swear. I just want to spend time with you. It's not a joke, or a prank, or whatever stupid ploy those fuckin' assholes were trying to pull on you. I would never want to make you feel used or hurt. I just want...you."

You stared at him blankly, your heart wanting to believe him but your brain fighting that desire desperately. Billy pulled his hand away but stayed leaning toward you.

"I don't even really have friends to be plotting with, Doll. Honestly. The two friends, true friends I got, they wouldn't stand for something like that. Much less encourage it. But I understand."

You cleared your throat, willing the heat rising to your cheeks and ears to go away as he spoke.

"I understand your apprehension. I do. I don't blame you for not trustin' me. But I'm telling the truth, and I hope you will be able to see that eventually. I won't take it personally, I swear. We'll just stay friends, pretend this never happened. But just know the offer still stands ok? I'd love nothing more than to take you out. But I'll wait for you. As long as I have to."

His smile is warm and genuine as he looks at you, and for the first time ever, it might just be true.

Billy Russo taglist

@veracruz-djarin @susceptible-but-siriusexual @thesandbeneathmytoes @thickemadame @sesamepancakes

General taglist

 @titty-teetee   @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

#headcannons #billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

[pigfacedbitch]

Comfort

summary : what would your boyfriend do if you had a bad day at work/school?

word count : 0.7k

type : headcanons

pairing/s : Modern! Gwaine / Merlin / Arthur (Soldier, Poet, King😂) x Reader

warning/s : asshole bosses / professors lol

here is my masterlist!

Note : Why is life so tiring? Sometimes, I just want to lay down and sleep. Slight NSFW on Gwaine's part .

Gwaine

Gwaine is evidently high-spirited but pouts like a kicked puppy when he sees you sad.

He may be a little unfamiliar with comforting someone but he knows that having fun can revive someone's soul so as a way to comfort you, he will offer a night of distraction and pleasure (I know what you're thinking and yes, you are right 👀).

From here, it depends on what you want to do. Gwaine will enthusiastically go with the flow.

You want to stay at home and play games? He will gladly lose to monopoly, uno, scrabbles, or any board games you want to play.

Gwaine is also a reliable player two in online games and will shout with you when another player is performing poorly.

"How can you miss that shot?!"

"What my love said, you muppet!"

Want to watch a movie? A pillow fort with your favorite movies, snacks, and soda coming right up!

Warning though, if you want to go out and party, don't. As loveable as he is, Gwaine is a party animal who has little self-control. He WILL get drunk before you and you have no choice but to drag his ass back to your home.

Last possible activity? Doing the deed. Might fuck the stress and sadness out of you until all you can remember is how good he made you feel, just saying. Anyways, enjoy! 😚

Merlin

This sweet baby boy will serve you like a queen, no joke.

Merlin will immediately know you had a bad day as he welcomes you in your shared home, already wrapping his (big and strong🫢) arms around your tired body.

He won't say a word but you'll know that he offers comfort by how tight his hug is, slowly soothing your hair, and gently kissing parts of your face.

"What's wrong, love?"

And boom! Here comes the waterworks. He will let you cry and vent as he leads the two of you on the sofa, lying comfortably there until you are done.

You might even take a short nap. Merlin doesn't care if you covered him with tears, drool, or snot; as long you feel better.

He will wake you up with your favorite home-cooked meal prepared on the table then taking you to the bathroom for a relaxing bath.

There would be scented candles, bath bombs, mellow music, skin care products— the whole nine yards. And no, you don't have to move. Merlin will do everything for you unless you want otherwise.

He will give you a massage on the bed after that, saying words of encouragement and support.

If you ask him to use his magic, he will. He will show you anything you want; from the wonders of the world to the vast beauty of the cosmos.

He hates using his magical abilities on you but as you fall asleep in his arms that night, he whispers a spell that will surely give you good dreams and an even better sleep.

Arthur

Let's face it, Arthur can be... oblivious at times.

Unlike Merlin and Gwaine, it will take a little longer for him to realize you feel like shit.

The Pendragons are very wealthy, and it sometimes compensates for the other qualities they lack.

He may not be as cheerful as Gwaine or provide you a satisfactory service like Merlin, but he can give you anything you want.

You want to go to another country? The private jet is ready. You don't even have to pack a bag, Arthur will buy new clothes for you.

He will let you choose the hotel you'll be staying in and book all the activities you want to do such as tours in the wildlife, scuba diving, spa days, and many more.

You want comfort food? The best chef in Albion will be brought to your home at once, paid heavily to cook whatever food you fancy.

You want materials things, jewelries and dresses? Even stationery? You got it. Arthur doesn't care how much you spend, he's practically your sugar daddy. 😂

If you just want him by your side, he will let you hug him like a koala bear to a tree and listen to your complains.

However, watch your words or the people you mention. Because Arthur will see to it that they will be dealt with, money comes with influence after all.

"So that's why they are being overly nice to me!"

"No one messes with the love of my life."

#bbc merlin #merlin #emrys #arthur pendragon #arthur #gwaine #bbc merlin imagines #bbc merlin x reader #bbc merlin headcanons #merlin x reader #merlin x reader headcanons #merlin imagine #gwaine x reader #gwaine x reader headcanons #gwaine imagine #arthur pendragon x reader #arthur x reader #arthur x reader headcanons #arthur pendragon imagine #comfort #colin morgan #bradley james #eoin macken #bbc merlin preferences

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and bts songs

seventeen as different bts songs!

notes: this was originally meant to be a thought but, uh. it became too long. (also if anyone wants svt as seventeen songs or txt songs, ill make an exception to my no requests law Just For That 🤭)

masterlist

seungcheol

on. the power, the 'never giving up' energy, the 'idgaf if you hate me' energy, the 'look how far we've come, do you really think you can beat us?' energy is just. very very him. he has pride in himself and his group, and rightfully so, and that's exactly what this song talks about.

jeonghan

love maze. it's so.... pretty. the entire song just has such pretty vibes, like some sort of iridescent silk, and the kind of sparkly, 'just trust me' vibes make me think of jeonghan? it feels like winks across a room, running hand in hand from a boring convention to god knows where, like loving endlessly with jeonghan.

joshua

serendipity. okay, am i jimin biased? yes. and am i joshua biased? also yes. so is this a little bit biased too?? ... yeah but also the 'let me love you' vibes of serendipity, the gentle, lovely, adoring nature of the song fits joshua so much okay. serendipity reminds me of soft colours and joshua is a soft aura, so what other song could he be?

junhui

moon. it's like, about an awe-filled love, an adoration, an almost shy love too? it feels very junhui because of the sweetness and adorable nature of it. also it's as im typing this that i realize it corresponds with, like . "moon" junhui. moon junhui. wen junhui. ig it was meant to be

hoshi

dope. the hyped nature of the song!!!! the 'im the best' energy!!!! the 'carving my own path that's like no other' vibes!!!! you can't tell me this isn't hoshi. it's just such a... hype song. i really can't find another way to explain it, but it has the same bounding energy as hoshi

wonwoo

fly to my room. maybe a bit of an unexpected one, but there's a sort of tired, grateful comfort to fly to my room? like, it feels like aching feet being placed in someone's lap, sitting on the couch you both own, in the place you both call home. the naturalness, the domesticity, it all feels like wonwoo.

woozi

film out. okay this one i can't really explain, but the gentle, calm vibes give me a woozi feeling. it's like rainbows, like delicate glasses, like the fragile beauty of woozi. plus it also feels like something he would compose: like, fallin flower? downpour???

minghao

black swan. not only due to the royal, elegant vibes of the song, but because it talks about dance and about the self and about loss and love all at once, and don't you think that sort of thoughtful, soul-searching type of lyrics fit minghao so, so well?

mingyu

boy in luv. it's like, kinda grungy, kinda bad boy, and that's like the vibes that mingyu tries to give off. but it also talks about lovesick boys and they were so Young back then that it makes me go "aww" whenever i watch the mv like they're little puppies or smth 😭 and that's literally me with mingyu even if he's stripping during concerts or whatever

dokyeom

mikrokosmos. i was debating between this and euphoria, but it's ultimately mikrokosmos for dokyeom because it's just so soul-ascendingly glittering. it's magical, it's sparkly-eyed, it's full of smiles and happy ever afters and that in itself is dokyeom. also the talking of universes and stars??? stars are for dokyeom's eyes and the way he sings, so of course he's mikrokosmos.

seungkwan

autumn leaves. autumn leaves, or dead leaves (ive never looked into why it has 2 names lmao) is a very yearning, wistful song that really fills me with Emotions whenever i listen to it. but it's also powerful, rich, and it feels a lot like seungkwan's voice and his strength to carry on

vernon

boyz with fun. it's such a cool funky adorable song fr!! vv much vernon vibes. i can imagine him listening to this with his headphones and his beanie and just bopping his head while walking and accidentally tripping over a loose stone on the pavement. it's very vernon actually.

chan

magic shop. idk, i can't explain it, but the comforting and sweet and magical kind of vibes that fit chan. it's youthful, not in an innocent or childish way, but like the memory of youth, emanating the "forever young" message that bts often presented. i think chan encapsulates that very well.

request guidelines

reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt

#fairyhaos.works #seventeen #svt #seventeen fic #seventeen drabble #seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt fluff #kpop writing #scoups #seungcheol #jeonghan #joshua #hong jisoo #junhui #hoshi #soonyoung #wonwoo #woozi #jihoon #minghao #the8 #mingyu #dokyeom #seokmin #seungkwan #hansol #vernon #chan

[dckweed]

here's part two of jake and babygirl, i'm actually really really in love with them and it may or may not be because i constantly have baby fever. anyway, im thinking about making this a fun lil series that you guys can send in any prompts or requests for that come to mind ! silly, angsty, fluffy whatever doesn't matter, just figured that since this started off as a request that i could continue on its life that way as well..

i want to be completely honest with you guys, for the past two months now i have been in eating disorder treatment 3 hours a day 6 days a week..as of this week, ive been stepped down to 3 hours a day 4 days a week and will be completely stepping down from treatment by the end of the month..this has taken up alot of time, and alot of attention and typically by the time my day is over i am completely spent and mentally drained and haven't been putting much effort into you guys, but as part of my treatment i am going to start posting at least twice a week (if not every day) as a way of self care, because fic writing is genuinely a form of self care for me.

thank you for being patient with me, and please feel free to send in asks!

warnings: pregnancy! jake being completely soft for his babygirl but also being completely angered by her situation..morning sickness mentions, food aversion mentions, just floofy fluffness okay? use of y/n once, but other than that is just babygirl as usual. not super long but i love it. part one

'STAY WITH ME, PLEASE..' jake 'hangman' seresin

A week into your vacation Jake had convinced you to go to an obstetrician after learning that you hadn't seen one yet, concerned for your health and the health of the little thing in your womb, whom he was already attached to, even if it wasn't his. It was there that you learned that you were almost eleven weeks along, Jake sat in the room with you, holding your hand as the ultrasound tech dims the lights. He squeezes it as she squirts more warm jelly on your tummy than you thought necessary and digs the wand in at an uncomfortable angle, moving it and the gel around your skin. You were just barely showing signs of a baby bump, and you were shocked to find out just how big the baby actually was by this point.

"How is it already that big?" Jake asks exactly what you were thinking, making the tech chuckle. He was in complete awe, there was really a tiny little being inside of you, you were growing a life form and there was nothing more beautiful than that to him in that moment.

"They grow so much faster than you realize," The woman says, a pleasant smile on her face as she stares at the screen, typing a few things in with her free hand, Jake noted from his position that they were measurements. "Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yes!" He blurts out before you could even process the question, you stare at him eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why he was so eager and amazed by something that he hadn't helped create. You thought it was wonderful though that your best friend was wanting to be so involved and caring despite your situation.

"Well, dad, you're having a little girl.." She says, catching you off guard by the mention of Jake being the dad and by the fact that you were having a daughter. Jake squeezed your hand, and even in the darkness of the room you could have sworn that he was a little teary eyed.

"Isn't that amazing, babygirl?" He asks, looking over at you. Your eyes are glued to the screen, not bothering to correct the woman on Jake not being the father, it was a difficult situation to explain and you weren't quite sure you were up for it today. Tears form in your eyes as you think about the little girl growing in your womb, who would never know her daddy. You had to admit that that was probably a good thing, he didn't deserve either of you if his initial reaction was to just leave and never come back.

You knew Jake felt the same way too, you didn't even have to ask.

"This all feels like such a fever dream.." You say softly, your head leaned against the window of his truck as he drives through the streets, away from the obstetricians office. You had a print out photo of your baby in your hand, staring down at it as you rubbed your stomach absentmindedly, your mind running in circles.

"Why's that?" Jake asks, glancing over at you for a mere second, not wanting to take his eyes off of the road for too long.

You look at him, wondering if he realizes just how fucked up the situation is. "Jake, I am pregnant..my boyfriend, the father of my baby left me because he swore i was a whore and that you were actually the father, and that was before i even knew for sure that i was pregnant.." You say, word vomit spewing from your mouth before your brain could even process what was happening. "I've just found out that i'm having a little girl who's not going to have her daddy in her life, and honestly good riddance but..but..oh my god Jake what am I going to do? This wasn't part of the plan..my daddy is going to be so disappointed in me..oh my god my mama would be so fucking upset..."

You hadn't even realized that you were crying, or that you were starting to panic, the weight of the situation fully sinking in on you. "Oh my god Jake, she's never gonna meet my mama..oh my god.." Jake doesn't know what to do, but he knows he can't let you keep crying like this. He pull's over into a parking lot, right at the beach and near a bunch of shops, pulling his truck to a stop in the first empty spot he saw. There are tears streaming down your face at this point as the thoughts of your father and your dead mother run around in your head, he had never seen you like this before but he knew that it was probably just the hormones.

"Hey," He says, his voice soft and sweet, his warm body encompassing yours as he slides across the front seat towards you, having lifted the center console up. He unclips your seatbelt and pulls you towards him, holding your head against his chest, your ear pressed right where his heart is. He had done this with you a thousand times before, the sound of his heartbeat had always brought you back to earth when you would have moments like this. "you're okay, i got you babygirl, i always got you.." He whispers, his lips moving in your hair as he presses a soft, comforting kiss to the crown of your head. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you wondered if he knew that these were the things that made you feel like he loved you in more ways than he let on, the things that gave you the smallest glimmer of hope.

You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat and the slight rumble in his chest as he whispered things to you, slowly but surely calming you down. After a while you let out a shaky breath, your eyes opening to see the people milling about the small shopping center. "Where are we?" You ask, voice thick from the crying. Your head hurt and your eyes were heavy, you wanted to go back to his apartment and sleep, preferably in his arms, like you used to when you guys were younger.

"We're not too far from home," He says. Home..You liked the way that sounded coming from his mouth, it was always nice to hear it. "Do you want to get out and walk around? Go sit on the beach." You shake your head, sniffling softly. He kisses the top of your head once more, rubs your shoulder with his large hand. "Okay babygirl, let's go home..you look like you need some rest." He wasn't wrong, between the morning sickness that had been plaguing you in recent days, and the stress of everything, you hadn't been getting enough rest.

You manage to stay awake for the rest of the ride back, letting the gentle breeze through the open window soothe you. Jake doesn't say a word, but you see a look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed like he was thinking really hard about something. "Jake?" You ask, turning to face him, wondering what was on his mind.

"Stay." He says, looking over at you as he pulls up to his apartment building, the truck rolling to a stop. "..I..You should be here with me, you should've been with me from the beginning, but I was too chickenshit to man up and ask." You're shocked, and start to open your mouth, wanting to stop him. "Let me finish, damn it!"

"I haven't gone a day without talkng to you or thinking about you since the day I met you, and it's not just because you were my best friend, because you always will be that, no matter what, it's because i've been in fucking love with you since day one. And maybe i'm dumb because it's taken me so long to realize it, because everyone i've ever dated knew it but dammit i know it now, and have for a long time.." He rambles, you're unsure of what to make of this, your brain still processing that you were hearing him correctly. "I..know that this isn't the ideal situation, and i know that that little girl isn't my blood, but dammit i don't care because i already think of her as my kid, and i have since i found out..I can't let you walk away, not without knowing how i feel..I want to be with you through this, and through everything else in life so i can take care of you the way that you deserve, because Y/N, nobody else in this world is ever going to love you like i do.." You feel yours well with tears and subconsciously you pinch yourself, hoping to god that you weren't dreaming. "So stay with me, please.."

"Oh, Jake.." You whisper, tears spilling once more from your eyes. You can't make any other words come out of your mouth so you just nod your head and you watch his body sag with relief before you unbuckle your seatbelt and rush forward into his already waiting arms. He squeezes you tight and presses a long kiss to the top of your head as you hiccup.

"Hey, no more tears, babygirl, okay?" He whispers, leaning your head back as he brushes the tears away with his thumb, you lean into the embrace, a smile gracing your lips as your arms go around the back of his neck.

"They're happy tears, i promise.." You say, leaning forward to press your lips against his. You had though about this moment so many times in your life, and none of your wildest dreams had every prepared your for the real thing. Jake kissed you like a man starved, his hand on the back of your head, fingers scrunching up in your hair as he presses you as hard against him as he can. You groan at the possessiveness of it, pulling back after a moment to catch your breath. You can't help but let out a chuckle, leaning your forehead against his. "You picked one hell of a time to finally fucking say it, Seresin."

"Hey! You could've said it first too you know!" He says and you can't help but laugh, relishing in the way he smiles at you.

Jake & Babygirl taglist: @bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mayhemmanaged

#kara writes #jake seresin #top gun fanfic #top gun imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun movie #top gun fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin #hangman fluff #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you

[camryn-haitani]

Hello everything is fine? If requests are still open can I request headcanon (barou, rin and bachira: separate) falling in love with the female reader who also plays football? Thank you in advance.

AH YES OFCCC

all requests are appreciated and this is my first one ever so I thank you a million times<3

BlueLock Boys falling in love with another football player

Rin Itoshi, Barou Shoei, and Bachira Meguru (separate) x football player reader

the title is pretty self explanatory so yeah<3

TW: cursing, sae slander, biting in Rins(not sexually or violently, just in a playing way), alcohol mention in barou's(none is consumed),

all characters are aged up and adults

these are going to be very long bc of the backstory of how y'all meet. so please bear with me. they may be ooc and I apologize. these brackets [ ] are little notes from me, just so y'all know

lowercase intended

Rin Itoshi

Rin got forced to go to a women's football game because Isagi's best friend is on the team (you). Isagi physically dragged rin through security, in the concession stand line, and into their seats. Rin didn't even know who he was rooting for.

"hey dip shit." Rin asked. "what's up man?" he answered, not looking at rin, waiting for you to come out to the field. "who's team are we rooting for exactly?" he said with his monotone voice. "(whatever team you choose). they wear (whatever color) and (whatever color)." Isagi said. Rin only nodded and waited for the game to start.

he got startled when Isagi immediately stood up and started screaming your name when you came out on the field. Rin didn't even bother and only looked up at the jumbotron. you had your resting bitch face that weirdly attracted him to you. not romantically, but you definitely intrigued him. he put his phone down and started paying attention to the game, well he payed attention to you. you were the striker for your team so he was definitely paying attention to you.

Rins eyes were trained on your figure the entire game. he cheered (not as loud as Isagi did) when you scored a goal, he internally celebrated whenever you took back the ball, and he definitely payed attention when you came on the screen.

after the game was over, your team had won so Isagi excitedly dragged Rin to where you and your team was back at the locker room. you gave him access to the locker room since he's your bestie.

"y/n!! congratulations!!!" he let go of Rin and tackled you in a suffocating hug. "omg hi isa." you look over to his friend. "who's this?" you pointed to rin. your eyes widen when you realize something. you pulled Isagi off of you and ran over to rin.

you grab his shoulders and shake him. "oh my god oh my god oh my god. you're rin itoshi! you're literally sae's brother, I know y'all hate each other but holy shit! I'm besties with your brother but I know you're the better brother. and I'm rambling on and on because I'm nervous because I'm literally obsessed with you and your plays on the field. I've studied how you play and I just have to say youre absolutely amazing. this is actually a dream come true. I'm so ha-" you get cut off by Isagi. "oh my god y/n, shut up!" he pulls you away from rin.

"no it's ok, I surprisingly enjoyed that." Rin looks confused. "I'm sorry, when I meet people I look up to, I get super nervous and I can't stop saying what's on my mind. just like I'm doing right now. I'm so so sorry, I've looked up to you since the beginning of my career. and I ju-" "y/n! you're doing it again" Isagi interrupts.

"you... you look up to me?" Rin asks. you nod aggressively. "also sorry for shaking you." you apologize. Rin motions his hands for you to give him your phone. your eyes widen and your mouth drops. you start to mouth words but no sounds come out. you nod before running to get your phone from your bag.

"wow Rin you got yourself a fan." Isagi wraps his arm around rins shoulder. "did you know about this?" he asks. "maybe I did.... maybe I didn't" Isagi looks at rin. "it's also why I wanted to bring you to one of her games. she wasn't kidding about studying your plays. she's stayed up countless nights looking at your strategies and plays. she has pages and pages of her and your plays combined" he says.

Rin feels proud of himself for some reason. you, of all people, are a huge fan of him. he didn't think he was anything special. but when he hears you say those things to him, he felt more confident in himself. he internally smiled to himself.

he sees you run back to him and he pulls out his phone. "holy fuck, wait till I brag to sae about this. I'm sooooo gonna make fun of him for this." you were so nervous you absolutely could not contain your excitement. "uhm brb, imma go run around the field for a few minutes. haha...." you sprint off to the field while Isagi follows after you.

Rin soon follows Isagi after putting your phone in his pocket so it won't get lost. he can faintly hear you yell, "I did it! I win in life!" with your arms up in the air. Rin saw you run up back to him at full speed and he braced for impact. you jumped in his arms while he caught you and held his face in your hands. "you are my inspiration for this career and I'll never be able to thank you enough." you quietly tell him. Rin slightly softens when he hears your words.

you get down and he gives you back your phone. "y/n we have to go but I'll see you later tonight right?" Isagi yells. "yes! I'll make your room." you say back. you see Rin and Isagi leave the locker room and you open your phone to see rins contact

Rin(the obviously better brother✌️)

you smiled and hugged your phone.

time skip

you and Rin have talked a lot since y'all first met. like every day. good morning and good night texts, training texts, 3am texts, and all around everything texts. Isagi teases you both because of it, but neither of y'all care. Rin enjoys your company and you enjoy his, what's so wrong with that?

one thing

he has caught major feelings for you. he even changed your name in his phone to have a heart next to it. and it's the "<3" heart too. he's down bad. he's come to Isagi multiple times asking what you like, don't like, your favorite restaurant, snacks, movies and TV shows, e v e r y t h i n g.

he wanted to make sure he wouldn't upset you by saying the wrong thing or hanging out at a place that you don't like. he constantly pestered Isagi to make sure he wouldn't fuck it up.

Rin wanted to see you again (even though y'all hung out yesterday). surprisingly enough, he's never stayed the night at your house. so you took it into your own hands and texted him.

you: hey rinnie rin rinnnnn

rinnie rinnie :3: yes?

you: I have come to realize that you've never stayed the night at my place. sooooooooooo

rinnie rinnie :3: lemme guess.

rinnie rinnie :3: you want me to stay the night?

you: [LOUDLY CORRECT BUZZER NOISE]

rinnie rinnie :3: I'll be over in 20

you: YAY ILL BE WAITING

you put down your phone and cleaned up a bit, even though Rin said he didn't care if your house is clean or not, he's there for you and not your house.

you called Isagi and told him all the details.

you: "isagiiiiiii I'm so nervous... Rin staying the night tonight."

Isagi: "ok.... and?"

you: "HES NEVER STAYED THE NIGHT BEFORE."

Isagi: "woah there, calm down. I know you're like in love with him in more ways than one, but pookie calm down. just.... be yourself."

you: "wow thanks for that cringe shit. that helps nothing!"

you heard the door bell ring and you get all excited but nervous at the same time.

you: "he's here! I'll tell you what happens when he leaves. bye isaaaa-" you hang up the phone

you throw your phone on the couch and open the door. rin has his backpack on with his stuff. 'hes so cute.' you say to yourself. "am I just gonna stay outside while you stare at me or are you gonna let me in?" he laughs a bit. "oh shit, yeah come in." you move out of the way

he sets his stuff down and plops onto your couch, stomach first. you flop on top of his back. he can easily push you off but chooses not to.

"whatcha wanna watch? or are you hungry? i can door dash?" you spurt out all the options. "I'm ok for now, but thank you. we can watch attack on titan if you want." he suggests. "season 3?" you ask excitingly [this is my favorite season, I watch it all the time :D] "always" he answers. he pushes you off his back and you land in the floor.

before he got to your house, you moved your coffee table and set down a few blankets and pillows. so you sat between his legs on the floor while he's on the couch. you wrap your arms around his legs and pull them closer to you.

"ow! you bitch!" he laughs. you bit his leg. not hard enough to cause damage, but enough to hurt. he pulled his legs up to sit criss cross. you pick yourself up and flop in top of him, going limp. "get off of me, you're not a lap dog." he smiles. "nah it's comfy here." you respond.

he pushes you off yet again and you land on the floor. you place your chin on his legs and look up at him. his gaze at you softens as he stares into your eyes. this bolt of confidence runs through him and he kisses your forehead. he stands up and goes to your kitchen. your mouth wide open as you follow him.

"what was that?!" you ask

"what was what?" he innocently says

"you know damn well what that was."

"oh you mean this?" he turns around and kisses you again but on your lips. his hands on each side of your face and your arms around his neck. "I like this" you say in between kisses. "I'm glad you do." "hey rin?" you pull back. "hm?" "i love you." "i love you too."

Barou Shoei

barou and Raichi coincidentally won tickets to the women's football match this weekend and so they decided to go together cause why not. they get there and wait for the game to start. they introduced all the players and they start the match.

of course your team won cause your teammates are bad bitches. and wow, another coincidence, the tickets included a meet and greet with the team. barou and raichi ask staff members where the meet and greet was because they don't know where the hell to go. they follow the directions and find the others waiting for the team to come out. they stand in the back of the line and wait.

"hey man, uhm I'm actually a huge fan on y/n's so this is actually a big deal for me. so I apologize if I get nervous or freak out..." raichi admits. "nah man youre cool. I don't even know anyone on the team so you can help me. i honestly don't care, I just came to see their strategies." barou stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around.

your team comes out and sits at the tables for the meeting. the line moves slowly and Raichi gets more jittery and shaky as he gets closer to you. "dude calm down, it's not like youre meeting the president of the United States." barou says. "dude shut up! she's amazing, she's set records, man!" raichi shoots back. barou just rolls his eyes and continues to wait.

they finally get to your table and you flash them a smile. "hi guys, it's nice to meet y'all." you hold out your hand for them to shake. raichi nervously takes your hand and shakes it. barou keeps his hands in his pockets. "aren't you... Barou Shoei?" you point your sharpie at him, "and your Jingo Raichi, correct?" you point your sharpie at Raichi. raichi's eyes widen in shock. "you.... know who we are?!" he yells. "yeah! i remember y'all from BlueLock! y'all were amazing." you compliment. "he's the fangirl here," Barou points to Raichi, "he's been freaking out ever since we got in line. going on and on about how your plays are so cool and your record setting skills." "Barou!!" he slaps his arm. "it's ok, I appreciate it." you look around in case anyone is looking as you lean in. "I'll give both of y'all my number in case y'all have any questions." you wink at them.

you write your number down on an autograph sheet and give each of them one. "dude....." raichi never taking his eyes off of the paper. "hey man, nice job. you got her numberrrrr" Barou teases him. "so did you!" he yells. "come on man, let's go home." barous doesn't want to admit it, but he had a fun time.

time skip

barou gets home and actually debates on whether to texts you. he's got nothing better to do so why not.

you: hey

y/n(that football player): oh hi :)

you: I'm bored

y/n(that football player): I'm actually surprised you texted

you: whys that

y/n(that football player): idk thought you wouldn't text me. I heard you didn't know who I was lol

you: yeah I had no idea until fanboy said something

y/n(that football player): I figured, you didn't seem that intrigued when we met. soooo, since you're bored, whatcha wanna do?

you: ion know that's why I texted you.

y/n(that football player): idea timeeeee. everyday, we have to ask each other one question and the other has to answer.

you: wtv sure

you: favorite food

y/n(that football player): (your favorite food), wby??

you: (whatever you think fits him)

y/n(that football player): oooh cool

y/n(that football player): I have training tomorrow so imma have to go to bed. text you tomorrow, goodnight:p

you: same, goodnight

time skip

the texting went on for months. he's asked you multiple times to help him train and of course you helped him, and Raichi too. sometimes all three of y'all have practice together. raichi has asked you hundreds of questions and you've answered all of them of course.

barou has taken a certain liking to you. he doesn't mind when you text him outta no where or when y'all hang out outside of practice.

y/n❤️: shoeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

you: yes y/n?

y/n❤️: whatcha doinnnnnn

you: absolutely nothing, you?

y/n❤️: good, I'm coming over

you: you have no idea where I live dumbass

y/n❤️: then gimme your address >:(

you: fine (address)

y/n❤️: be there in a fewwww

he started panicking. what if his house isn't clean enough? what if you don't like his house? what if his house smells weird? all the questions running through his head while he's picking up the tiniest of clutter around his home. he doesn't know why he's doing it but he's worried about what you think... of.. him...

he drops everything in his arms. "shit" he realizes. "I like.. no, fuck! I'm in love with her. what? no! yes? but how? I mean, I get excited when she texts, I get sad when she loses her games, I feel comfort when we hang out, but that doesn't mean I lover her." he stands still for a few seconds. "fuck" he sighs. "I do love her..." he picks his stuff back up and continues to clean.

after he's done, he hears a car pull up. his heart pounds in his ears and his hands gets shaky. he hears the car turn off and the door slams shut. with ever step he hears, his heart pounds in his head.

he shoots up and opens the door before you have a chance to knock. your hand was halfway up to knock but he opened the door. "hi Shoei!" he moves out of the way to let you in. you set your keys down on the counter and take off your hoodie. you sit nervously in one of the chairs and wait for him to say something.

"uhm are you hungry?... or thirsty?" he asks. "water please." you respond. his body softens when he hears her voice. he walks to the kitchen and gets her drink. he hears her phone ring and looks at her. "oh it's Raichi. I'm gonna take this." you point to your phone. "you can go upstairs or the other room if you want." he tells her. you (unknowingly) walk to his room and answer the call. he finishes getting your drink and sets it on the counter.

he sits on the couch and waits for you to be done. 'ah shit I forgot to get the charger Nagi let me borrow. I'll set it on the table so I can give it to him tomorrow.' he says to himself. he walks to his room and opens the door.

"yes Raichi I know. I'm just so nervous around him..." you speak while your back is turned to him. "i just... I don't know if he feels the same way. he's so.. handsome and caring and sweet. i love everything about him, jin. i love him. and I'll say it a million times. I'm in love with bar...ou" you turn around to face him, jaw slacked open. "uhh.. I'm sorry. I'll go if you want me to. i understand if you feel uncomfortable around me now and-" "shut the fuck up." he walks over to where you stand and kisses you. you don't know how to react, you're frozen. 'is this happening? am I drunk? no, I can't be, I've had zero alcohol." you think to yourself.

"no stupid this isn't a dream. i love you too, stupid" he says, pulling you in for another kiss.

Bachira Meguru

back in bachira's BlueLock days, you were their supervisor. you know, monitoring their health, how they're doing, how they're performing, all that. you don't know how but you became particularly close with bachira without even noticing. you would make up stuff just to see team z play, or slip out of a meeting to watch him practice. he never showed off in front of you because who cares what others think of him. bachira taught you how to play the game and dribble just like him too. but once BlueLock was over, y'all lost contact.

over the years, he continued football. he constantly watches games, specifically (the team you play for). he went to their home games, he collected their merch, he even bought collectable cards, but there's one card he takes every where in his wallet. and it's your card. he thought she was so cool with her tricks, plays and strats [he forgot who you were].

bachira, of course, bought tickets for your next home game. so when the time came, he packed what he needed and set off to the stadium.

bachira always buys the expensive tickets too. he got that money money. so when he hears that y'all were having a meet and greet after the game, he just had to buy them.

bachira sat in his seat and waited for the game.

lil time skip to the middle of the game

he was watching you ever so closely and he remembers this thought every time he watches your games.

'her dribbling looks so familiar.'

time skip

the game was over and he was so excited since y'all won. he quickly ran out of his seat and head to where the meet was.

bachira groaned when he saw the big ass line, but it was all worth it to me you. he steps excitedly when he takes a few steps closer in the line, not being able to contain his excitement. you're his inspiration for continuing his football career.

finally, it was bachira's turn. you flash him your warmest smile, "hi, I'm y/n." you held out your hand. he immediately shook your hand.

your eyes widen as you immediately stood up and put your hands in the table, making your teammates stare at you and Bachira startled. you leaned in closer to his face, inches from his. bachira got flustered by this and his cheeks turning a bright pink. you're eyes widen even more in realization.

"oh my god!! bachira!!" you yell, hopping over the table and smother him in a hug. he immediately returns it but he's confused as to why and how you know his name. "it's me! y/n, from BlueLock! i was y'all's supervisor. megs, you inspired me to take in football and go into a professional career." you hold his face.

it takes him a lil bit to place you in the correct spot in his memory but he figures it out. "holy shit! y/n hi!" he hugs you. you wrap your arms around him, tightening every second.

you sit back down and sign whatever he wants you to sign. you secretly slide him your number, not wanting the other fans to see and you go back to signing autographs and taking pictures.

time skip

[I apologize for all the time skips :(]

he almost immediately texts you once he got home.

you: HI Y/N

the best football player💪: HELLO BACHIRA

you: DID YOU GET HOME SAFE?

the best football player💪: YES I DID THANK YOU

those kinds of texts went on for a good while. you both enjoyed them and always though about each other. you offered for him to come practice at your teams field when no one was there so he can practice with you and he can teach you more stuff he's learned since BlueLock.

these practices went on for a long while. sometimes until 2:00 am or later. but neither one of you cared, y'all were having fun and thats all that mattered to you.

bachira always loved these practices. it's a chance to get closer to you. his stomach would always erupt in butterflies when you invited him to practice and he never knew why. he always got that lovesick puppy look in his eyes when you show him a trick you learned. and again, he never knew why he would feel like that, but it was only with you

a few months have pasted since you've reunited with bachira and you've loved it. it was around 1:40 am and you invited bachira to yet another field practice, just y'all two. he was dribbling up the field while you were trying to steal the ball back. he ran upfield and you got closer. he tried to fake you out but you accidentally tripped him. he landed in his back and you fell but caught yourself with your arms. palms all grassy, knees hurting from the fall, bachira's ass hurt when he fell, but none of that mattered to y'all because you were staring into each other's eyes. not wanting to look away, you picked yourself up.

"I think we're good for today. I'll get our stuff..." you turned away. bachira just laid there staring. he didn't want you to get up, or leave. he heard your footsteps and that knocked him out of his trance.

you were about to walk off the field when you heard quick and fast footsteps. "y/n!" he yelled running up from behind you. "bachi-!" his lips crashed onto yours. you dropped all your stuff just to wrap your arms around his neck.

"I didn't know you felt the same way megs." you smiled against his lips. "I'm glad I showed you then."

"I love you, y/n"

"I love you too, megs"

#x reader #blue lock #bluelock x reader #bluelock x you #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #shoei barou x reader #shoei barou #barou shouei #barou x reader