#it certainly helps that i love this group

[pizzaapeteer]

Watch your mouth

Request: What just happened? Doesn't matter, it doesn't change us." "Oh, sure, my tongue in your mouth does nothing for our relationship, got it." "Keep talking and you won't have that tongue."

Warnings: NSFW, semi hj, PnV, hair pulling, dirty talk, finger licking, swearing, drinking, hufflepuff reader, a bit stereotypical Hufflepuff, 4.1k

AN: Massive thank you for everyone being so patience!!! I kind of realised while writing this that maybe enemies to lovers trope isn't my thing. Happy for feedback as this was my first piece on that. But anyway I loved coming up with this idea with special help to @slytherinslut0 & @mattyriddlesbitch based off the prompt here, thank you for the request. I hope you like it ✨🥹. Also big thanks to all other muts involved in helping me 💞. love you all. pretty divider from here

The atmosphere was high, waves of euphoric tingles warm your body, the beginning of your tipsiness engulfing you. Perched on the ledge of a couch arm, your legs swing softly out in front of you as you lean back, enjoying the lightness of them, eyes gazing around following the movement of people. 

Throngs of different houses scattered amongst the darkly lit emerald common room, the music cranking loudly, bodies swaying, pushing past each other, made for an entertaining view. Your ears prick, briefly tuning into your friends' conversations as they sat surrounding you emerged in some type of party game. 

The sweet liquor soothed its way into your bloodstream, each sip adding to your intoxication, surprisingly finding yourself enjoying tonight's events. You had been dragged along to the Slytherins house with verbal protest not interested in mingling among the snakes. It was honestly a revelation you had been allowed in, considering your friendship with many Gryffindor and their ongoing rivalry with the Slytherins. As well as the fact, it was your enemies' friends who were hosting the party. 

The darkness looming over the dungeons was surprisingly pleasant though, lit with an ambient glow by the surrounding candles. Shades of green covered the walls, pristine artwork hung delicately on them, many figures of old ages turning their noses up at the contiguous houses in their beloved homes. 

Sipping on the beverage, you found yourself relaxed, dazed at finding yourself to be enjoying tonight's events. Fortunately for you, the absence of one Mattheo Riddle tonight has helped put you at ease. Though his whereabouts were odd considering the rest of his popular pack were spread out, immersing themselves amongst the crowds. You were thankful nethertheless, not exactly in the mood for having to deal with him and his constant insufferable presence. 

Short-tempered, arrogant, with no lack of respect or remorse for anyone else's feelings, starting unnecessary fights just for the heck of it. Him and his posy certainly had a reputation that followed them, having no care in the world except for themselves. This was how most of the school felt about him and his group, except for the pack of desperate girls wanting to throw themselves at another bad decision. 

As a hufflefpuff, your house was often a target by many other houses, always falling short compared to Slytherin. Not that as a hufflepuff you yourself believed this, your house had many strengths, loyal, hardworking, fierce, great navigators. Though it didn’t stop the others from seeing your house as below. Often the butt of jokes, the victims of pranks, that are mostly harmless, and just straight up demeaning and belittling verbal bullying. 

Conveniently for you, you’d come from a family of people who actually taught you to grow a bloody backbone and not stand for less. Which meant you weren’t easily thrown off guard when being targeted. You assumed this was the root of why Mattheo targeted you. A sore in his thumb, that one needle in the hack stack that was never found.

You knew it irked him that you talked back, had an attitude and used it to give him a piece of your mind. You had relished in the satisfaction of watching his mind reel in astonishment when you hadn’t done what he had asked, demanded of you. 

But it had seemed having a backbone had only made things worse for you, as he never backed off. Instead, he advanced more, finding interest in your irritation towards him. And so, as you sat at the party, you were left astonished again at him not seeking the opportunity to bother you while you sat in the home of his common room. Surely, he knew you were here. He annoyingly always had a way of finding you.

At the sound of his name being announced, your own following shortly after in pairing, your neck is strained in quickness, looking over your shoulder as your full attention grabbed. Brows furrowed, eyes scanning for the culprit’s voice, trying to understand what was happening. With narrowed eyes, your gaze falls to Enzo Berkshire, whose own brown orbs gleamed back at you with mischief at the situation about to unfold. 

The alcohol swirls fuzzing your brain partially while you recall what game they were playing, and how you had somehow ended up tangled up in it. Oh, fuck not seven minutes in heaven and with him, of all people, too. Your gaze shifts to the miscreant whose name had been dichotomized to yours, Mattheo fucking Riddle. 

He sat in a relaxed form, legs sprawled in a man spread that made your eyes twitch at the arrogance that reeked off of him. When did he even get here, or maybe you had been too busy in actually enjoying your night to not notice him. Sipping from his own cup, his head also snapped towards Berkshire at the combing of both your names together. His eyes now held a similar dissatisfaction of the pairings chosen, shooting Berkshire a mirroring glare, swallowing the last of his drink. 

Small nudges from your friends grab your focus, their encouragement for you to get up has you pondering whether the game had been rigged for your friends' own amusement. The idea of that being true pulls your face into a scrunch, shooting them an irritated glare before it lands back on Mattheo. His brows raise, chuckling at the clear hatred you're throwing at him, his lips curving into a menacing smirk, knowing your night is about to be ruined.

There was no way you were willing to trap yourself in an enclosed space with him, not even for seven minutes. That was like signing your death wish, throwing yourself into a starving lion's cage without a key. He already got to you enough just between the school halls, a constant fly that never shut up. Following you as he buzzed around, swarming your head with his daft insults and snide comments. It irked you how his group viewed Hufflepuff’s beneath them, as though they were people who could be easily taken advantage of. While some of your house did fall into that category, you hated being judged and grouped in with the rest. 

You turn your nose up, crossing your arms stubbornly, “I’m not doing that, no fucking way am I getting in a closet with him.” 

Mattheo chuckles, his eyes narrowing on you as his lips held a teasing smirk, “Not being a pussy now are you y/n.” His brows arch challenging, rising from his seat, he takes a step closer, the sounds of your friends complaining about you being a killjoy. “Thought little puffs like yourself had more manners than that? Or did getting left out in the cold of your badger burrow turn you bitter?” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoff at his comment, proud of yourself for not being too intoxicated to hold your tongue, not wanting to cause a scene and fuel your friends' entertainment more. Mattheo takes your silence as a win, deciding to add, “It’s only seven minutes. I promise I won’t bite.” His eyes tell a different story, gleaming with mischief. 

Shouts and hollers are rising, growing louder, trying to persuade you. A chorus of sentences are thrown at you;

“come on!”

“don’t be a wet blanket!”

“play the rules! We’re all mature here!”

Before fits of laughter erupt, making you roll your eyes and agree, wanting to get away from the growing harassment. 

Begrudgingly, you move following Mattheo, but not before pit-stopping past the booze table and taking a swig from the bottle of vodka. Desperately in urgent need of some liquor to calm the rising irritation within you, if you were to last seven minutes with him. Trapped in a room with your enemy was not something on your list for the night, and who knows how malicious this would turn out. 

Stepping in after Mattheo into the tightknit broom closet, you admire the elegance of it, far more above average than one along the Hogwarts halls. Though you were in the Slytherin common room, after all. The door closes, engulfing all the light as you shuffle inside, the rising heat spreading through your body allows you to recognise amongst the darkness the smallness of the room.

The brightening of the space forces you to notice how close you are to him, your eyes blinking, adjusting to the light, stepping back abruptly, putting more space between the two of you. You fold your arms leaning on the wall, but can’t help your eyes from looking over at him, his eyes already piercing into you. 

“Not scared, are you little puff?” His fingers twirl a spare cigarette leaning against the cabinet, his head lowering, roaming your body subtly. 

Scoffing, you stretch your legs out, accidentally bumping his own foot and you shift it awkwardly, making him chuckle. The buzz of the vodka shot is surging up within you now, as you realize that it probably wasn’t a good idea to have taken. 

“You always have had such a sharp witted tongue, and now that we’re alone you have nothing to say?” he chuckled. “Must be how devilishly handsome I am that- “

“Stop right there. You know what your problem is.” He glares at you with irritation as you interrupt him, but you're on a roll now. The alcohol pumping through your body is spilling out of your mouth, not allowing you to have a filter. You yap, and yarn away, words just vomiting out of your mouth at light speed. 

“And yeah you're attractive but so what, guys like you know that and it fucks with their head. It gets huge, and no one needs a huge head, like how would that be physically possible from like a physic standpoint, do you even know what physics is-.” 

Opening your mouth to continue your drunk ramble, you're silenced by the quickness Mattheo smashes his lips against yours, the rough warmth engulfing you instantly. There is a subtle hint of sweetness mixed among the heat, your lips finding solace in moving back with an eagerness you didn’t expect. The two of you get lost for a moment, eating away at each other, shaky gasps breathed out as he pulls back. 

A wave of dizziness floods your mind, the heat fogging it along with the alcohol, deep pools of darkness gaze back at you, his tongue swiping at his lip, his own chest heaving. Leaning back from him creates some much needed space, the extra air helping you to form words, “What just happened?” 

His curls separate, the tousled waves parting at the movement of his hand touching them. His gaze hardens in realization, “Doesn't matter, it doesn't change us." 

"Oh, sure, my tongue in your mouth does nothing for our relationship, got it." 

"Keep talking and you won't have that tongue." He’s quick to move intimidatingly, closing the gap between you two, his eyes seeming much stormier than before. 

You hold his gaze, "Oh wow, real mature Riddle, threatening me, such a Slytherin move.” He rolls his eyes, finding amusement in your dry rebuttals, while you continue speaking. “Threaten me all you want. I won’t be a pushover to someone like you. I won’t tolerate you trying to walk all over us hufflepuffs and take advantage. That’s only something pathetic shits like you would do.” 

“Watch your mouth,” his breath hits your chin, a cold threat while the fire swirls onwards in the depths of his mahogany orbs. All hints of amusement swept away. 

Rolling your tongue along the underside of your cheek, you retaliate. “Or what.” Tilting your head purposefully to provoke him. 

“I’ll fuck it.” 

The air is sliced, a spiked tension vibrating through it at his words. Exhaling a shallow breath, your eyes widening at his new threat, one that now holds a level of danger. 

The alcohol hums alive in your mind, an anger bubbling inside you threatening to latch itself onto the next thing, seeking a way to ease your tension. In a matter of minutes, Mattheo is helping you decide where to channel it, his lips finding their way back onto yours, this time with a hungry and desperate energy

You utter out a sudden moan rolling from the depths of your throat, as his tongue swipes at your soft lips demanding entrance. Instantaneously you grant it, your mouth parting, inviting him to take the kiss further. Your hands move on their own accord, running up his chest, taking Mattheo aback by your forwardness. His feet step backwards, your hands pressing harshly to shove him against the wall in order to gain more access. 

Your free hand moves imperceptibly downwards, feeling the grove of his hardening member, his head pulls back, breaking the kiss, eliciting a husky sucked in breath. His head falls against the walls, his tongue swiping his lips as more small breaths fall, his eyes watching your hand rub him softly. His own mind strugglings to consider what was happening, the alcohol swirling in his mind screaming at how good of an idea this is. 

His hands roam your body, feeling your delicate curves urging you to continue your pursuit. Your fingers fiddle with the complexity of the buckle, well to you, at least in your intoxicated state. His own hands brushing over yours to unbuckle his belt with eagerness, allowing your hands to reach for his zipper before you halt at the call of Blaise’s voice.

“Are you two still alive in there? Seven minutes are up!” Blaise’s voice booms out, a thudding bang on the door, triggering the removal of your hands, now abandoning all actions that once ceased fire. Not wanting to stick around, you’re bolting out the door, your body tingling with adrenaline, urging your abrupt exit. You're quick to maintain your composure though eager to escape, relaxing your face back to the mask you held, your fabricated hatred for Mattheo. 

He stands behind, hidden still in the cupboard's darkness, his hands fiddling to redo his belt up before Blaise can catch sight. “Fuck.. fuck.. fuck,” he’s muttering to himself frustratedly, his cheeks warming as reality crashes down onto him, not from being flustered but from the fire that burned deep underneath them, a bubble of anger.

Exiting with a tense jaw, it’s clear by Draco’s amused laughter that he wasn’t trying hard to hide his emotion. “You look like you could use a drink, Riddle.'' Draco, who had sauntered over to join Blaise in seeing the drama unfold, takes a sip of his own cup when Mattheo snatches it from him, downing the bitter liquid. “Not mine, you fucking twat.” Draco yells behind him as Mattheo storms throughout the party in search of you, discarding the empty cup. No way were you getting the last word or action or whatever. 

He just knew he had to get the upper hand back in your little spit. The crowd knows better to move aside when Mattheo's raging through a bull only seeing red. He stops and turns, scanning for the familiarity of your hair, his head snapping, eyes narrowing, an eagle seeking its prey. With his guided eye movements, he finally catches sight of your locks as you wander around, clearly unfamiliar with your territory, causing you to dip out of the party.

You were quick forcing Mattheo to walk around the halls at breakneck speed, his footsteps echoing sharply, slapping hard against the tiled floors. Eyes clouded with rancor, his view hazed by his frustration at you. Following you into the cold and stilled bathroom, he spots you bent over the sink, your gaze penetrating into your reflection, a girl who has no idea what the fuck she’s feeling. 

His gaze meets yours in the cheval glass, his reflection looming as he moves closer towards you with long strides, his presence charged with an erratic and unpredictable energy. The contact of his solid grip embeds into your wrist as he spins sharply, slamming you into the firmness of his chest.

“You think you can just pull that shit, and fuck off,” his voice is low and gravelly, holding a danger as if you were flame and he was ready to extinguish you. He moves swiftly, taking a hold of your jaw, angling your head to meet his eyes. With your face sealed in his grasp, his gaze shifts, watching the expression in your eyes, it glazing with a sense of desire, defiance and challenge pooling in your irises. “You better be able to finish what you started, little puff.” 

With his free hand he traces it down your body, finding amenity at the softness of your curves, digging his fingers into your sides, holding you in place against the basin. Your face contorts at his words, your mind attempting to protest what he’s implying. Yet it’s not just the alcohol tainting your control, but a carnal power that holds his gaze, awaiting his move. He’s quick to lean in, recognizing the invitation in your stare, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s fiery and heated, burning with the taste of sweet liquor and cigarettes mixing on your tongues. 

His hand slides, gripping your face with a more delicate touch, the tips of his fingers threading into your hair. A burning passion explodes within you, your lips matching his hungrily, eager hands pulling, grabbing onto his neck to bring him closer. A needy, insistent moan escapes you, the feeling of the heated kiss igniting your core, sending waves of pleasure straight to it. 

The two of your hands move rapidly, desperately roaming each other's bodies. Shaky groans fill the air, though are quick to be silenced by himself as he presses sweet sloppy kisses up along your neck, pulling on your hair to allow him more access. Nipping at the skin, he relishes in the moans you let out, a sound he thought he’d never hear. 

Your skirt bunches in his hold as he spins you around, pressing his hardening cock against your behind, digging your hip bones roughly into the basin. Whimpering your lips fall apart, met with low rough groans breathed in your ear. The heat of his breath sends goosebumps along your skin, your head falling onto his shoulder mercilessly. 

His eyes lift to watch you in the mirror, his hands sliding under your skirt to grope your ass, as his voice strums your ear, “not so fucking bold are you now, look at you already, a pathetic mess.” Squeezing the supple flesh of your cheeks, he swipes a hand lowering down, his fingers running up your cunt coaxing them in your slickness. A low groan rumbles, vibrating through him onto you, “fuck..you really love this don’t you, your soakin princess.” 

You’re urged forwards bending over the basin, hands falling to grip the sides, your face a mere meter from the mirror. Your line of sight is in perfect view of him and the way he bites his lower lip, flipping your skirt fully up. His eyes take in the full of your ass, hands caressing and squeezing the skin before his fingers tug your panties down. His thick cock is released from his pants restrictions, your irises blow fuller with lust, watching with luxury how his brows scrunch while he pumps it. 

His eyes meet yours again, your lips quivering in anticipation as he teases your folds. “That’s it, keep your eyes on me. Be good for me, I’ve had enough of your fucking attitude for a night, now im going to fuck it out of you.” Your breath is caught in your throat as he inches his way in, the stretch burns and your mouth parts shaky breaths falling, followed by a loud grunt from Mattheo. 

The more he pushes in, the more your mind starts to split open, your eyes struggling to remain wide and trained on him. He watched as they flutter slightly, his hand reaching to coil around your hair, pulling it back, the jerk making you fully focus on him. “That’s it almost there,” he grunts out, his hips pushing, sliding more of him in till you take him all. 

He pauses momentarily, not wanting to actually hurt you, but not really giving too many shits, before his hips snap carnally pressing deeper inside your soaking cunt. “Merlin.. fuck me..” hands tightening on your skin, pinching at your sides, “god you’re so fucking tight.” His voice is low, husky, and broken as he struggles to contain himself. 

Your hands fall pressing on the mirror, moans falling rapidly out of your mouth mixed with your breathy whimpers. Hot breath hits the glass, the condensation surrounding your handprints. The tension is breaking between you two with each deep thrust he does, your chest tightening and stomach warming with pressure. The feeling is so good you're unable to form any words, your eyes burning with pleasure as you watch him through the mirror.  

He was a sight for sore eyes, his brown eyes displaying a darkened shade, curls bouncing as his hips thrust vigorously, his speed relentless. His head tilts back as he focuses on the sweet feeling of your warm pussy clenching around him, enticing another low groan. “Fuck me.” 

He chuckles, his eyes refocusing on your contorted face, taking deep enjoyment at seeing you fall apart on his cock. “Look at you, little puff, not so fucking innocent,” his hips snap, his hand tugging on your hair, making your back arch, his other hand wrapping around your stomach to press against it. “So fucking good, taking my cock so fucking deep, can’t even talk, can you.” 

He grins, his eyes lowering to watch your pussy swallow his cock, sliding in and out as he bottoms you out. The arch of your back allows the tip of his cock to rub against your g spot, the head hammering against it over and over, your moans growing louder.

Mattheo can’t have the two of you being caught as he covers your mouth, pulling you back up against his chest. “Shhh, you’re enjoying this so much aren’t you, how does it feel to have someone you hate buried so deep inside this delicious pussy.”

“That’s it, squeeze down on my cock, want you to cum on it.” His hand drops from your stomach, rubbing your clit in fast circles, making your eyes roll back. Your hand grip his forearm as your release builds, hitting you hard like a tidal wave.

A series of incoherent words fall from your lips in lustful moans straight into the muffling of Mattheo’s hand, as the sensations rush through you at full speed. His fingers lack any remorse at slowing their pace as he continues to roughly pound into you, his own climax nearing. 

A low groan comes from him praising you, “That’s a good girl,” his hips rapidly move before he pushes you, bending you once more over the basin, gripping your hips tightly as he cums inside you, a low rumble falling from his lips. “fucking god” His movements still, his cock twitching, savouring the feel of your sweet mold engulfing him. The hollow bathroom comes to a silence other than the heavy breathing from you both, condensation covering the mirror. 

He thrusts once more inside, his hands resting on your back, before he pulls out, watching the cum drip out of you slowly. A satisfied grin spreads on his face as he slides your undies back up your legs, swiping his fingers, he gathers some of his seed up. Your legs twitch from the sensation, raising your head to look at him again through the mirror, your head now turning to stare over your shoulder. 

With a hand on your shoulder you’re spun back around, “Open up sweetcheeks,” in your worn out state you obey, sticking your tongue out for him to slide his fingers in your mouth. “Let's taint that tongue with something better, and rid the bad taste you can't seem to dispose of.” The saltiness of his cum stings your taste buds as you lick around his fingers, your chest rising and falling at the intense moment. 

He retracts them back, his eyes gazing over your flushed face and wide eyes, grinning as he bites his lower lip. “So, little badger, got anything left to say?” He’s finding it amusing how you're still a little out of it to give him any sort of witty comment, his hand moves to fix your skirt, letting them rest on the tops of your thighs. 

He knows your attitude probably won’t change, if anything, he’d expect it to get worse. But he doesn’t seem to mind if it leads to a moment again for the two of you to fuck out your frustrations. Though he doesn’t let you know that, adding, “This still changes nothing.” He throws you a wink before he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone with your now racing thoughts and a losing aftertaste. Now you have another reason to hate him, to hate how good he was.

Tagging: @helendeath, @dr4g0ngirl

Masterlist

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x hufflepuff #mattheo riddle x fem reader smut #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #slytherin boys #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #slytherin boys fandom

[moonstruckme]

can you write remus and reader sharing a cigarette together, something about that is just so intimate to me i want to cry

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: smoking

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 808 words

Remus can feel you looking at him in his periphery. He sighs, sending smoke billowing out into the dark alleyway, even as he feels the corner of his mouth tilt up. 

“We’re terrible influences on you,” he says. 

“You’re terrible influences,” James corrects him, standing upwind and looking at him and Sirius like they’re contagious. “I am nothing but good to her.” 

“Come on.” You grin at Remus, and yeah, that mischief in your eyes is definitely a result of spending too much time with their bunch. “I just wanna try.” 

Lately, you’ve been campaigning for a cig every time he’s having one. You’d never thought about it before you had friends who smoked, but now you’re curious, and he and Sirius’ regular smoke breaks don’t help matters. If Remus was a better friend, he’d show more restraint. 

“Mm, ‘fraid this is my last one,” he says, not lying but definitely not upset about it. 

You roll your eyes. “Sirius?” 

The glow of Sirius’ cherry lights his eyes with a smug amusement. “Don’t look at me, doll. He’ll be pissy if I give you one.” 

Remus has to suppress a grin when you turn back to him, arms crossed over your chest. “Really? I could just go get a pack on my own, you know.” 

Remus exhales smoke out one side of his mouth, watching you from the corner of his eye as he does. You look back at him, obstinate if a bit playful. 

“Fine,” he says. “We can share this one, if you want to try so badly.” 

Your expression falters, and he thinks he might have won, your bashfulness about your crush on him overpowering your want, but then challenge glints in your eye and Remus knows he hasn’t. Competitiveness is another thing you’ve picked up from their group (Remus likes to think that’s more James and Sirius than himself), and now once you’ve caught a whiff of a challenge there’s no deterring you. 

“Perfect,” you reply brightly. 

Remus tries once more. “You sure?” 

“Don’t do it,” James cautions you. “You’ll be sending yourself down a path of corruption and lung problems.” 

“Just this once,” you promise. 

“Just this once,” Remus agrees sternly. 

You beckon, and he taps the ash off the end of his cigarette, reluctantly passing it to you. You take it between your thumb and forefinger and lift it to your lips. 

“Just take a shallow breath,” Remus warns. 

You do, the cherry glowing only dimly as you inhale cautiously. Good girl, he thinks to himself. You blow out the smoke just as slowly, features tightening as you try to keep from coughing. 

Sirius laughs at the obvious strain, and a small cough escapes you. They all clap, Sirius still chuckling and Remus with a small, begrudging smile on his face. 

“That’s actually not so bad,” you say, somewhat croakily. 

“Oh? Happy to hear it.” Remus takes the cig back from you, putting it to his own lips again and trying not to think about how yours were just on it. It’s not the first time he’s shared a cigarette, but somehow with you it feels different. He has an inkling as to why. 

As he takes it away from his mouth, you reach for it again. 

He dodges you. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“I want another,” you say. 

“No.” 

“What?” A laugh trips off your tongue, and Remus holds the cigarette aloft as you make another grab for it. “Come on, you said we’d share!” 

“I’m not done with my turn yet,” he says, taking a hearty drag. 

“You’re going to finish it off before I can have any!” 

“Don’t know what you mean.” 

You reach for it again, and this time Remus doesn’t put up as much of a fight, letting you pluck the cigarette from his mouth. If the side of your index finger grazes his upper lip, he certainly doesn’t notice. 

You’re bolder this time, exhaling some of your air before breathing in. The cherry glows a fiery orange, and Remus feels his brow furrow. 

“Slower, love,” he murmurs. 

You manage not to cough this time, which Remus can tell impresses Sirius as much as it does him, blowing the smoke off to the side like you’ve seen them do a million times. It’s terribly hot. 

You keep breathing out even after there’s no smoke left, then inhale, humming contemplatively. 

“Sort of aches in your lungs, doesn’t it?”

“That’s the beginning of the end,” James says solemnly. “You’re done for, now.” 

“She is not,” Remus chides, swiping the cig from you. “But that’ll be all.” He tuts as you protest, setting his free hand atop your head under the guise of keeping you at bay. “Don’t want to hear it. You’re too lovely to corrupt. I won’t be a part of it.” 

That shuts you up.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin oneshot #tw cigarettes #tw smoking #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (IX)

Chapter 9: Testing Feelings

Hello!! Here is another chapter! Will Sam’s plan work???

Hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2163

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

On paper, Sam’s plan sounded both brilliant and simple.

This night out with your friends did sound, indeed, like the perfect place to make you jealous.

Andrew had spent most of the evening with his friends, including you. You looked ethereal tonight, he wasn’t sure how you did this, how you could always make his heart skip beats by the mere sight of you. Perhaps, if he knew how, he would ask you to stop.

The group was now splitting into tinier cells, some levitating around a game of pool, others chilling by the bar, while some where still lost in conversation by the table around which you had gathered at first. You were off to get another drink. Sam leaned closer to Andrew, the two of them having remained sitting in the booth.

“The brunette over there is staring at you.”

Andrew frowned, before turning around to take a look, trying to spot the person his friend was talking about. It was easy to notice her, indeed. When Andrew locked eyes with hers, she didn’t look away, only threw him a flirtatious smile. He was the one to turn back to his friend with a blush.

“Sam… I don’t know if I should…”

“Ha! No! Don’t back down, now! We’ve talked about this, and this is the best plan we have. So, get out there, flirt with her, and see what happens with Y/N. This woman is perfect! She’s beautiful, and very clearly interested in you. So, don’t make her wait.”

But Andrew made the ice-cube of his whiskey twirl, and didn’t stand up.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Sam, who knew his friend a little too well.

Andrew swallowed back the lump in his throat, before answering in a whisper, still staring at the brown liquid in his hand.

“What if she doesn’t care? What if she doesn’t give two shites about me flirting with another woman? Do I really want to know the answer to that question?”

Sam rested a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezed for a few seconds.

“No, you don’t,” he answered earnestly, making Andrew look up again. “But you need to. You need to, Andy. Trust me.”

Andrew finally nodded, emptied his drink, and finally got up. He gave the woman a timid smile as he approached her. She was sitting at the bar, alone. She was pretty. In another life, he could have fallen for someone like her. But in this one, you were filling all of his heart already.

“Hi,” he spoke quietly, his voice deep and warm although a little hesitant. “Sorry to bother you, and feel free to say no if you don’t feel like it but… can I buy a drink, by any chance?”

She raised a playful eyebrow.

“I don’t even know your name,” she fought back, and he liked the way she smiled with mischief all over her features.

“Andrew. The name’s Andrew. And you are?”

“Marissa.”

“Lovely name.”

“Yours is pretty basic, but it’ll do.”

He couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at that.

“Hey, it gets the job done. You say it, and I come running.���

“And why did you come to me? I wasn’t calling your name.”

“Hmm… no, you weren’t. But according to my friend over there, you’ve been staring. Which is highly impolite. So, I thought I should buy a drink.”

“If I was impolite, shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink?”

“You can buy round two and three, so we’re even.”

She laughed, and the sound was lovely. All Andrew noticed was that you were bringing drinks back to the table. You frowned, looked around. And then you saw him, and frowned some more, as if you had been searching for him, but were surprised to find him there, with someone else.

As he focused on Marissa again, Andrew could think of nothing but you.

“Well, you should buy me that drink, then, so I can quickly repay my debt,” Marissa answered, and Andrew ordered another whiskey.

You were looking at him and Marissa, Andrew wondered if his plan was working.

Daphne and Sam and the rest of the gang were somewhere else, lost in the dim lights and crowds of the busy pub. He was discreetly looking at you over there, standing near the table where some of your friends were gathered. Others were playing pool, some were simply scattered around the place. But everyone was lost in conversation… except for you. You were standing there, staring at him, with an unreadable expression on your face.

Did it hurt, to see him flirt with another woman?

Marissa rested her hand on his forearm. He didn’t feel anything at the touch, but he let her anyway. He even leaned a little closer, for good measure, staring at her dark eyes again. She was beautiful. You were all he could think about…

“When is this wedding then?” she asked, the tone one of conversation, but there was something syrupy in her voice that was meant to lure him in.

“In about four months now! Time flies.”

“Have you decided who you’ll go to the party with?”

He laughed, a little too loudly, just to show you that he was having fun. That he could laugh without you. That he didn’t need you.

He was lying through his teeth.

“Not yet,” he answered while staring right into this stranger’s eyes, making his voice a little deeper than usual on purpose. “Do you have suggestions?”

“I mean… I can think of a possibility… depending on what happens between then and now.”

She held up her open palm, and Andrew knew to place his phone in her hand. She entered her phone number.

“I have to go for tonight, but I hope you’ll call me soon,” she said, handing him back his phone, and her smile was tempting enough to melt a glacier.

Andrew nodded, gave her a wink. She moved closer to kiss his cheek, and he let her, bending a little to offer his skin to her lips. They were warm and soft, he could feel her lipstick on them. He wondered if you were still looking.

She gave him another warm smile; and he returned the gesture, bid her a goodnight and a safe trip home.

He didn’t look at you again, instead he grabbed his glass of whiskey, and downed the burning liquid. He turned towards the bartender and asked for a refill. He recognized your footsteps behind him, and he thought you would stop by his side, but you didn’t. You made a beeline for the bathroom instead, and his heart leapt in disappointment.

“Andy! Get your arse over here!” Alex shouted from somewhere behind him. “I need your word for a story! Daphne won’t believe me!”

Andrew shook his head, a fond and amused smile on his lips as he turned to his friends, taking his new drink with him. He kept an eye on the door to the bathroom while he joked with Alex.

“I was sick,” Andrew defended himself.

“We were thirty minutes before a show, when this guy just gives us the most cringy sound I’ve ever heard. Somewhere between a prepubescent getting hit in the balls and a dying pig.”

“I had the flu, and was completely stoned on steroids to keep my voice somehow functioning.”

“Excuses, excuses! He got us all panicking, thinking he wouldn’t be able to perform.”

“And I did!”

“How professional…”

“Thanks, Alex…”

“… to perform while higher than a fucking boeing!”

Andrew playfully rolled his eyes, making everybody laugh.

He caught a glimpse of your jacket as you hurried from the bathroom to the door of the pub.

“Ha… Y/N’s calling?”

“Fuck off,” he merely answered his bass player, making Alex chuckle.

“You’d better hurry before she leaves you behind.”

Andrew didn’t answer and merely followed his friend’s advice, emptying his drink before leaving the glass discarded on the nearest table.

You were pacing a few meters away from the entrance of the bar when Andrew stepped outside.

You froze as you noticed him.

“Y/N? You’re okay?”

You blinked at him, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

You looked paler than usual, your eyes were a little red. He wasn’t sure if it was due to fatigue or tears.

“Are you sick? You want to go home?”

You hesitated, but finally nodded.

“Yeah, I… I think I’m gonna head home. I’m tired and… I had a bit too much to drink.”

“Give me a sec, I’ll grab my coat.”

“I’ll call a uber. Anyway… you’re not sober either, you can’t drive, Andy…”

“It’s almost one in the morning. It’s late, let me take you home, okay?”

“I… I’d rather you don’t.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at you.

Did it mean that his plan was working? That you were jealous?

“Why not? Did I do something wrong?” he asked, feigning innocence.

You took a couple of seconds to answer, your expression still unreadable.

“No… no, you didn’t. But I don’t want you to accompany me. I don’t need your help.”

He was taken aback by your answer, by how much it hurt to hear those words coming out of your mouth.

“I just… I was just trying to be helpful.”

“You seemed busy enough tonight… Don’t you have someone else to go home with?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, trying to hide how impatient he was, how he hoped for the answer to be a yes.

You scoffed, hands coming up to rest on your hips.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re not dating! You can sleep with whoever you want.”

“You’re jealous,” and this time it was more of a statement than a question.

“I’m not! We’re not dating! We’re not exclusive! If you want to have fun with… whoever that was, then go ahead! Have fun!”

“We just flirted, nothing serious.”

“You got her number, that’s a win!”

You hesitated for a moment, but asked the question on the tip of your tongue anyway.

“What’s her name?”

“Marissa,” he answered, and you looked away as he spoke her name.

There was a tug to his heart… it came from both satisfaction and guilt.

“You know… we can make a rule about that,” he offered.

“About what?”

“About… the arrangement stopping if we want to sleep with someone else.”

You scoffed again, your arms moving once more, this time to cross before your chest.

“What makes you think you’re the only person I’ve slept with these past couple of months?”

You flinched when his face fell.

“Have you? Slept with other people while we…?”

The question remained suspended in mid-air, and Andrew tried to blink away the stupor and the pain that came with your words. There was no air left in his lungs, like a punch in the guts…

“No… no, I haven’t,” you admitted. “Have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

You’re the only one I want, he wanted to add, but he didn’t want to spoil it all by saying something so stupid.

You remained silent, and so Andrew pulled out his phone and got a uber for you.

“Can you text me when you’re home? Please? Just to make sure you’re alright,” he insisted, and you easily yielded.

It took you a couple of minutes to walk closer to him again. He was surprised when you took his hand. He ran his calloused fingertips across your soft knuckles a couple of times before interlacing your fingers together.

“Can we… can we add that rule of yours? We stop our arrangement when we meet someone else?” you asked, fleeing his gaze.

“Okay, let’s do that.”

“So… are we going to stop our… arrangement? Are you going to see Marissa again?”

You didn’t see his reassuring smile, you were looking at the curb instead.

“No… no, I don’t think I want to see her again.”

You finally looked up at him.

“You’re sure?” you asked, but Andrew’s smile grew more tender as he nodded, and he let his free hand move upwards to rest on your cheek.

“I’d rather have you,” he confessed in a whisper, voice deep and sweet. He noticed how you leaned into his touch.

He wanted to kiss you, he wondered if you would let him… but then there was a car coming, and you took a step back as the headlights illuminated your frame while they came closer, like a halo around something divine.

“Goodnight, Andy,” your voice was soft and tender as you spoke, and he guessed that your words meant more than their usual meaning.

He gave you the most loving smile.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watched as you disappeared in the car, waited as the engines roared a couple of seconds before the vehicle started to move, stared as the car drove away.

He smiled.

You were jealous. You wanted him to have no one else. It meant that you cared. You cared. You fucking cared…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

[terrortwinsfav]

ello!! can you write an joe x reader fanfic where he meets rick savage's best friend and he feels an instant attraction to her?

thanks !

Here it is! This prompt has been on my mind constantly. I got a bit carried away and I will probably end up making a part two for this. Thanks for the request!

Love at First Sight, Lady Strange

word count: 3064

One day, while checking the mail, you noticed a letter from your childhood best friend, Rick Savage. You and Sav met in primary school and have been inseparable ever since. He was like a brother to you. During high school, you didn’t see him as frequently since you moved a bit too far away, and he started his band, Def Leppard. A few years later, the Lepps were touring the world, and you didn’t visit or hear much from him anymore, aside from the occasional letter.

Sav’s most recent letter informed you that he was back in Sheffield at his childhood home with the rest of his band. He wanted you to meet them and watch them play a few songs from their album, High 'N' Dry. He said to drop by any time. You were ecstatic! You were not only excited to see your best friend again but also to meet his band. You couldn’t believe that, despite how close you were, you never met the band. He was a very busy guy.

So that’s what led you to Sav’s doorstep later that very day you received the letter. You wore a form-fitting red shirt, small red running shorts to match, and white tennis shoes. Your hair was styled big and fluffy, similar to Sav’s. Quickly fixing a few pieces of your hair, you stood on his front porch after knocking. Almost a second later, the door flung open, and you were greeted by Sav and two unfamiliar faces.

“SAVVY!” You exclaimed and immediately went to hug him. He did the same. You paid no mind to the two guys next to him, who were now giggling.

“Sav, who is this? Your secret girlfriend? She’s certainly hot enough to be a rockstar’s girlfriend,” A guy with fluffy, shoulder-length brown hair asked in a teasing way. You and Sav both scrunched up your faces and shook your heads in sync.

“No! This is my childhood best friend, Y/N. I knew her long before I knew any of you, but our lives got busy and she moved away, so I couldn’t introduce you all.” He explained, looking at you.

“Yeah, I'm Y/N. I assume you’re Sav’s bandmates?” You smiled.

“Yeah, I’m Joe,” the brunette with longer hair explained, “and I’m Rick,” the guy with shorter brown hair chimed in. Before you could make a joke about two Ricks being in the band and anyone could say anything else, a loud electric noise ripped through the air, followed by some more. Somebody was playing guitar in the house.

“That’s Phil and Steve; let’s go in so I can introduce you!” Sav said excitedly and disappeared out of the doorway, leaving you, Joe, and Rick standing there. You all exchanged smiles and followed him a moment later. Joe's eyes seemed to linger, but you didn’t pay it any mind.

In the living room, there were two blonde men with guitars. They stopped playing when the rest of the group walked in.

“Woah, who’s that chick?” Said the shorter man, looking at you.

“This is my best friend, Y/N. A while ago, I invited her to come meet the band and hear us play.” Sav smiled, and so did you.

“Well, we’ve been playing for a while—why don’t we have a short break and make lunch before we play for Y/N? We need to decide on some songs too.” Sav proposed. Everyone thought it was a great idea, and the guys started scheming and giggling amongst themselves about what they should play. All of the guys were eyeing you.

"So, Y/N, what do you want to eat? I’m quite the cook, remember?” Sav smiled.

“Aw, there’s six of us here. If you start cooking, we’ll be in the kitchen all day! Let’s just make sandwiches. I’ll help you!” You said. The rest of the guys besides Joe were all messing around with their instruments and not paying attention, so you and Sav looked at Joe.

“Okay, that sounds good. Hey Joe, since you’re not doing anything, do you want to help us? We can surprise the rest of the guys; they’re not paying any attention right now. Besides, you’re the face of the band, and I want Y/N to meet you. She’s actually not familiar with our music.” Sav laughed.

“Sure, okay. Wow, you’re really his best friend, but you've never listened to any of our music? We’re on the radio and MTV, you know!” Joe said teasingly. He was so surprised that Sav had such a beautiful best friend that he had never heard about. Joe was still checking you out—something about that little red shirt and shorts distracted him so much. He was now glad that he was asked to help cook. The three of you went to the kitchen, and Sav pulled out all the ingredients.

“I mean, I’ve heard Bringin' On The Heartbreak, but not much else!!! You guys sounded fantastic on that, by the way, and I love your video!” You said to Joe, who was now smiling.

“Aw, ok, good. You’re not completely lost. Did I not look good in that video?” He said confidently, putting his hands on his hips and doing his big smile again. Sav shook his head and went back to getting ingredients while you laughed.

“Yeah, everyone looked great. You have a good voice too, Joe. You definitely make a great frontman; I’m excited to hear some of your other songs!” You said, unaware that he was fishing for attention from you. He smiled when you gave him that attention. Joe was always a bit of a player, but he felt something different towards you. It was almost like a schoolboy crush. Usually, girls in the crowds at his shows would throw themselves at him — and he sure did love it — but there was something so enticing about a girl who barely knew about him or his band. He wanted to steal all her attention.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joe responded with a sly smile, and before he could say anything else, protective Sav chimed in.

“Hey, what are you doing calling her 'sweetheart?!?’ This is my childhood best friend, not some groupie you can seduce! You’re flirting with someone who is basically my sister, you know." This made you laugh. Sav truly was the protective older brother you never had.

“Savvy, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s just joking around.” You put a hand on Joe's shoulder as you said that. Oh, but he wasn’t joking. You put him in a trance from the first second he saw you. With every passing second, he wished more and more that Sav had introduced you earlier. Your fingers on his shoulder felt electrifying to him.

“Hm, so what’s up with that nickname? Savvy, are you sure she isn’t your secret girlfriend?” Joe teased getting back at Sav. 

"Oh, good grief. Joe, she has called me that since we were 5 years old. Help me make sandwiches, or get out! Plus, we need to decide what to play. Get over here.” Sav said with a laugh. Joe approached him, and they started whispering. You watched, and they would occasionally look over at you. This made you smile. You did not mind the eager attention from Joe. The truth was, while you were getting ready to come over, you turned on the TV and had MTV playing in the background. Their video for Bringin' On The Heartbreak played, and that was the first time you saw Joe. The band caught your attention, and you thought Joe looked so passionate in the video. You wanted to know more about him.

While you were getting lost in thought, Sav and Joe were picking some songs.

“I want her to hear Lady Strange. We’ve got to play that one.” Joe whispered to Sav. He was planning something that Sav didn’t pick up on.

“Alright, sure. I know the guys would be down for that. Let’s also do Heartbreak and Switch 625 so she can see how awesome Steve and Phil are.” Sav replied. They both nodded at each other and then waved you over to help finish making the sandwiches.

After lunch

“That was good; thank you. Y'know, you two ought to ditch music, take Y/N, and open a restaurant.” Phil joked with Sav and Joe. Everyone laughed, but it was filling Joe's head with all sorts of domestic images. You two in your house, making breakfast or lunch together, to then go eat in bed. 

“Slow down, Joe, what’s gotten into you?” He thought to himself. He had never felt so interested in somebody so suddenly. He was actually a little disappointed that he couldn’t talk to you alone or actually get to know you without being teased since the guys were around, and Sav was so protective.

“Nah, don’t ditch music! I saw your guys’ music video earlier; it was so good. I’m dying to hear you play.” You said, and Joe snapped out of his trance.

“Right, me and Sav came up with a list of things we’re going to play for you. Come here, everyone, but not Y/N! This is a secret.” Joe looked at you and laughed. You smiled back, and he swore he felt fireworks go off inside him. The guys huddled up and discussed what they’d play. First, Bringin' on the Heartbreak, then Switch 625, and finally Lady Strange. He chose that last one on purpose: if he couldn’t tell you how much you entranced him directly, he’d express it with a song. 

Once they decided on the order of songs, they all went back out to the living room and got their instruments and positions prepared. Joe had instructed them to stand in a way that would imitate their position on stage, to make it better for you to watch, and *totally* not have him in the front and closest to you. He dimmed the lights, and you pulled up a single chair and faced them excitedly.

“Do your best, boys!” You said happily, your elbows resting against your knees and your chin resting in your hands admiringly. Joe took this as a challenge and flashed you a smile, and after Rick clicked his drumsticks together four times, Steve and Phil took it away with their beautiful guitar harmony. A smile instantly lit up on your face — it was the song you heard earlier!

As the guitars mellowed out, Joe joined in with his passion-filled voice. He gave it his all, just like he’d do on stage. You stared in awe, not being able to take her eyes off Joe. Sav noticed and smiled to himself; he knew you were star struck. You were so focused on Joe, you didn’t even realize your best friend was smiling at you. Once the song finished up, Joe gave you another smile. You clapped and gave much praise.

“You like it, huh?” Joe said with a little flirt in his voice, flashed a huge smile, and held his hands on his hips proudly. He couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Yes, that was perfect! Your voice is amazing, Joe; you sound just like you did in the actual recording! That’s enough to convince me to listen more. Sav, I can’t believe you never told me about the band or mailed me your albums!!!” You exclaimed and gave Sav a pouty look. All the guys laughed and accepted your praise. Joe was so focused on your expression and knew you were just joking, but it drove him crazy. How in just a few hours did he become so crazy about you?

“Aw, thank you. I know you like my voice, but I don’t really sing in this next one, so I’ll just sit and watch with you. He quickly pulled up another chair and sat next to you before giving his bandmates an encouraging look.

“Blow her away, guys!” He said, and in an instant, the bass started up, the guitars following, and then the drums. This time, all your attention was on Steve. He ripped through those guitar solos like they were nothing and looked otherworldly while doing it. You weren’t as distracted by Steve as you were by Joe, and you looked over at Joe to see his expression. You thought, “He’s usually up on stage with these guys. I bet he doesn’t get to be their audience very often.” When you looked over, he wasn’t watching the guys at all. His eyes were fixed on your face, taking in all of your reactions. He was obsessed with the way you watched the band. Her stares made him feel more giddy than any groupie ever did. When your eyes met again, both of you blushed slightly and quickly returned your eyes to the guys in front of you. It was like a grade school crush; you both felt it. Everyone else was so focused on playing that they didn’t catch it. The room was too dark for anyone to notice your blushes, regardless.

Once the song was over, you clapped again. Joe followed suit. Even though they were his bandmates, they really did blow him away.

“You guys are so talented! Steve, you’re a guitar god!” You were so busy fangirling that you didn’t even think of the possibility of them playing one more, until Joe patted you on the back and stood up, stealing all of your attention away. He was good at that.

“You’re going to love this next one. It’ll be the last one, for now.” He smiled and got back to his microphone. Your excitement never wavered, and the feeling of his fingers trailing off your back lingered. It felt so soft and foreign. You almost felt nervous, in a good way.

Rick clicked his drumsticks together again, and those familiar guitar harmonies filled the room again. You sat in anticipation, dying for Joe to start singing. 

Eventually, he chimed in with his strong, passionate voice.

“I never needed love before till I met you, girl,” he sang. He had his eyes on her the whole time, and her eyes were on him.

“A girl like you I have never seen..." You were adding new meaning to this song for him. He thought he had it all figured out when he wrote it, but he has to seriously rethink it now. You made him feel something completely new.

“You came into my life like a whirlwind, girl,”

“You let me know what loving really means.” While he sang, he shifted around slightly, like he did on stage or in one of his music videos. He gave it his all — he knew you two only met a few hours ago, but he wanted to show you that he felt love at first sight.

The band went on, and you kept your eyes on Joe's passionate expression and rhythmic movements. Your eyes were wide and doe-like like you were spaced out. That couldn’t have been farther than reality, though; you gave him her undivided attention.

“So let me know what loving really means, woman, please,” he sang. The song was coming to an end.

“Lady Strange, Lady Strange, I need you.” “I want you. I need you, yeah.” He looked directly into your eyes, and by that point, you felt whatever he was feeling too. To you, it seemed so personal, like he did all that just for you. That is exactly what he intended, and you got the message loud and clear. Once the song finished, he smiled and hopped over closer to you.

“What’d ya think?” He said nonchalantly, trying to play off his passionate performance.

“That was beautiful! I don’t even know what to say..." she said. The other guys had noticed how speechless she was and how eager Joe seemed to talk to you.

“Chill out, Joe; don’t fluster her like that. You know she doesn’t really listen to rock 'n' roll; it's new to her! Let her process all that!” Phil joked. The guys laughed, even Sav.

“No, really, you guys were so good, I don’t have any words to describe it. Please play some shows in Sheffield! I’ll be there! Front row!” You jumped up and down in excitement. Joe wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. To anyone else, this would’ve just been seen as typical Joe behavior or a playful gesture, but he couldn’t handle not being close to you for another second.

"Aw, look at that. We got the girl hooked on rock ‘n’ roll. How’s it feel?” Joe turned his head to you and asked.

You tilted your head towards the taller man and said, "Oh, come on! It’s all new to me. Why don’t you show me some albums, since Sav clearly can’t!” You laughed again and rolled your eyes at him jokingly.

“Oh, I’ve got you covered. Y’know, my house is in Sheffield. While you’re here, you should stop by, and I can show you my record collection.” He said, utterly serious about his offer. The guys interpreted it differently and started snickering.

“Hey, don’t be so quick to take her home! I’ve seen how you looked at her. At least get to know her first.” Sav exclaimed like a protective brother. The other guys laughed, and Phil chimed out to you again.

“He tries to get into every girl's pants. You should see him hanging around our groupies after a show,” he laughed. Joe actually got flustered, with his cheeks now rosy — yours too.

“Listen, you’re not wrong, but I don’t mean it like that! I swear!” He was actually telling the truth. He didn’t want to rush into this more than he already did. You caught his attention like no other girl.

“Hm, well, I’ll take your offer up. But if what Phil said shows to be true, I’ll send Sav to teach you a lesson!” You said playfully. You were honestly so glad he offered. Earlier you started to get worried you’d never see him again outside of the Lepp’s music videos, but now your mind was at ease.

Joe was ecstatic, and he laughed along with you. The guys joined in. He’d prove to you and the guys that he wasn’t in it just for temporary satisfaction; he felt something real about this girl. You made him realize that love at first sight was real.

#def leppard #def leppard fanfiction #joe elliott fanfiction #joe elliott x reader #joe elliott #rick savage #joe hoe #rick savage fanfiction

[punkeropercyjackson]

HM How do i put this.So people often think 'punk' and 'asshole' are synomyous and this causes problems when it comes to character interpretations(and irl too ofc but that's for a future post).Now i'm not saying you can't be punk and an asshole because that would be absolutely stupid and just incorrect but the latter does not make the former and you shouldn't force anyone to when they're not even if they're fictional since how you treat characters who're part of a group reflects how you think of the irl one

I'm gonna use the example that prompted this post:Spiderpunk aka Hobie Brown.Hobie is often characterized as mean-spirited and perverted because he's explicitly meant as the embodiment of black punks but the thing is,in the actual movie and og comics,Hobs is an incredibly sweet and gentle person and if you think i'm being ridicilous for saying that about the dude who kills fascists and runs his mouth all the time,consider that direct action is not an act of cruelty but kindness towards oppressed people by helping them have a safer world and that Hobie's only actually rude to authority figures and with everyone else he's just goofy.He's also pretty open with how much he loves his friends and always has their backs and i find it very odd how often he gets assumed to be an extremely sexual person when there were never even any under the radar adult jokes about or by him and the smoker headcanon for him is baseless too and pretty obviously only happens for sex appeal

And that's a general problem with both canonical and popularly headcanon punk characters-Most fandom members think punk is 1.Exclusively male and 2.Inherently made to make yourself attractive.There's nothing wrong with finding punk men super hot but there IS a lot wrong is assigning punkhood to them with that intention alone,especially often the characters are not only just EdgyTM but also straight up fascists(Hp and Marauders Flop Era 'kinnies',please touch grass)

This leads to defanging of punk female characters.Katara is a classic example and Zuko is a rich boy with weird biases he's very open about that didn't fade until adulthood while Katara is an eco-terrorist who reclaims girlhood for herself by being anti-traditionalist and feminine in her own way yet Zuko is always the punk of the Gaang in aus.Stephanie Brown and not a girl but Duke Thomas are a poor woman who grew up friendless and abused by her dad and had a drug addict mom so she became a vigilante at 14 to help people like her and is implied to be a metalhead and a black boy who grew up getting kicked out schools and in and out of foster homes and joined a gang of crime fighters respectively but Stephanie is called scene instead(cause pastel punks don't exist right /s)and Duke is turned a meek black boyloser stereotype so that Jason Todd can be the punk Batkid instead,which is certainly......a choice seeing as Under The Red Hood is basically about him doing freestyle death penalty and is not actively an activist even if he does enjoy helping people and does whenever he has the opportunity to by narrative.Very important sidenote is that Stephanie and Duke are often entierly erased from Batman fan content despite being Jason's Batgirl and Robin and i think you can guess why(that obviously the coolest Batkid has to be the fan favorite white boy /s x2)

And i feel the need to include this one due to my url and that is Percy Jackson.Percy is representation for audhd and dyslexic people who can never mask and got bullied and abused for it but remained kind against all world's cruelty and choose to help others since they wanted the world to be like that to them as a kid instead but they ALSO aren't a pussy about it so they openly stand up to corrupted people and refuse to be like them no matter how hard they try to get them to and they openly hate them for what they're like and they act like a parental figure to younger minorities.Their creator stated he never inteded Percy as being bisexual and has no interest in it but he also said he'd be happy and supportive of Percy being played by a poc one day and within the books Percy is extremely transfem-coded so obviously the fandom pops several blood vessels when literally any of this is aknowledged because they read the wrong books and wanted a white male power fantasy in ancient greek gays flavor

You can be super nice and punk because punk is a subculture,not an entire personality type.And i hate to break it to edgecases on here but being super mean to people without a justified reason because you think it's cool or finding irresistibly hot on others is one of the most normal things you can do

#pastel punk tag #afropunk #solarpunk #anarchism #hobie brown #katara #zuko #anti zutara #stephanie brown #duke thomas #jason todd #anti batcest #percy jackson #spiderpunk #punk katara #pastel punk stephanie brown #punk!percy #pro kataang #blasian stephanie brown #perseo jackson #transfem percy jackson #black percy #latino percy #autistic percy jackson #persephone jackson #team parent percy jackson #anti luke castellan #pjo gods slander #summerposting #anti harry potter

[unwinthehart]

Some of the things my students tell me really makes you wonder what kind of teachers they had in their lives or what kind they expected to have at this point

#'you're so kind and patient while explaining'<- yes????? #it's called common decency #why wouldn't i be #why would i expect you to already know #something you signed up to learn???? #text post #it certainly helps that i love this group #i'm having some of the best laughs

[keyrousse]

In which a group of four old friends tries to kill two members of said grup ;)

#The Technical Difficulties #Citation Needed #(the word kill is used jokingly #they certainly weren't helpful) #Tom Scott #the almost-victim no. 1 #sitting with his hoodie tucked in #Chris Joel #being the real helpful friend here although probably the cause of almost-murder no. 2 #Matt Gray #almost-victim no. 2 #being the audio engineer of the group #Gary Brannan #happily trying to kill two of his friends #normally holding a high (now directoral) position at Uni of York archives #honestly this is one of my fav bonus videos for Citation Needed #I'd love something new from them but with Tom seemingly being pretty happy about not having to film anything #(dude really needed that break #I wonder if he went for the eclipse) #and them having no new ideas and feeling no pressure to create anything #I guess we'll wait some more #Youtube

[kiradical]

.

#sometimes people should just say they hate men and get on with their day #good lord #I’m so tired of double standards that only end up hurting EVERYONE rather than protecting anyone #I get where this shit comes from but god damn y’all really need to take a step back and look at the nuance around certain shit #and also analyze and acknowledge your own biases #(and yes I’m including myself in that cuz I’m most certainly not perfect) #this shit is vague on purpose cuz I really don’t wanna argue with anyone #I’m just very frustrated #specifically I’m tired of being in a friend group of lesbian and nb folks who love to talk about how much they hate men #I’m the only person who likes men because I’m bisexual #and I get it. I get where it comes from. #but it doesn’t help anyone. #and folks love to say that certain behaviors are inappropriate across the board #but will ONLY call out men for it #never women or nb folk #a woman could exhibit literally the same behavior right in front of their face and suddenly they can’t see #and I hate it

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #dunmeshi analysis #I love it when dungeon meshi says. the trauma was real and it changed you #and the way you are because of it isn’t anything to be ashamed of #but you have to keep living. you have to chose to keep living. #and you can #dungeon meshi spoilers

[ellistocracy]

the problem with getting sensitivity readers is that it's a job and you have to pay them. which is fair but i don't have any money and it's highly doubtful that I'm going to make any

#ellistocracy.txt #thinking about maybe making a semi-public discord for marginalized indie writers (including fanfic!) to sensitivity read for each other #but like. i don't have any black friends! and i think that's a general failing on my part! #but i don't want to go out of my way to meet black people specifically because that feels tokenizing! #and i CERTAINLY don't want to invade black spaces just to be like ''hey i know nothing about you. it's your responsibility to fix this'' #but research only goes so far! im never going to be confident that im writing a good and realistic character without feedback #anyway. anyone who thinks a group critique server sounds cool feel free to reach out #or anyone who already has one! I'd love to not be in charge #obviously from everything ive just said I'm specifically looking for feedback from black people (more specifically black women) #because the character im hyperfixated on the creation of rn is a black woman #but i have sooo many other characters I'll need help with in the future

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

aww daryl is so sad and greasy and soggy ;A; carol fixing his hair and giving him a forehead smooch like she's his mummy 🥺🥺🥺

#i love it when they just. shove their hands into small spaces without looking first #or open the boot of the car and there's just a fecking zombie lying there like #'exCUSE ME!! may i HELP u??? i'm a bit BUSY here!! >:(' lol #i wonder why they haven't snagged a few of the zombies following them to be their new 'pets' tho?? #maybe two wouldn't be enough to cover their whole group i guess lol #WELL THINGS HAVE CERTAINLY BEEN BETTER FOR OUR HEROES!!! #but they've also been worse so i'd say it all breaks about even 😅 #NO EUGENE DOn'T SAY THAT THINGS COULDN'T BE WORSE #DAMN IT EUGENE U'VE BROUGHT THE HOUNDS OF HELL ONTO US ALL >:V #birb watch #tha walken ded #ARE U SURE IT'S SAFE TO EAT THOSE #WHAT IF THE DOGS WERE ZOMBIES?? ;A;

[kedreeva]

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think... I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

#steelsong #personal #stories about ked's life #dash stretcher #fandom #god she would have loved ao3 so much #i wish i could tell her about the good things that have become

[hermitadaymay]

WELCOME TO HERMIT-A-DAY MAY 2024!

I'm thrilled to bring this challenge to you all for the second year in a row! Hermit-a-Day May is a challenge inspired by Hermitober, but with a twist: instead of theme prompts, we focus on a specific Hermit every day!

THE RULES: 1. Any type of fanwork is welcome so long as it features, or is otherwise inspired by, the Hermit of the day. 2. Tag #hermitaday to have your fanwork reblogged, or submit it directly to the blog (Please note that while I recognize the value of fanworks involving more mature themes, and they can certainly count toward challenge completion if you're keeping track for yourself, content on this blog will be kept "PG-13" so that all may enjoy.). 3. Fanworks for one Hermit posted after the day rolls over to another Hermit's day (per the US Central time zone) will be reblogged in a big queue in June. 4. I am not interested in seeing captions or tags in which you disparage your art/skills. We're all improving all the time. Be kind to yourselves.

WHY SHOULD I PARTICIPATE? To show love to every Hermit, from the most to least subscribed, from those who have been on the server from day one to those who only joined this season! And because challenges are fun! And because, this year, there's an extra dimension to the event: a fundraiser for Gamers Outreach, featuring art incentives by @rendiggitydog and @belmarzi.

GRAND TOTAL INCENTIVE: For every $150 we raise for Gamers Outreach, belmarzi will make 10 seconds' worth of animatic, featuring as many Hermits as she can fit into the time frame.

INDIVIDUAL DONATION INCENTIVE: For every $50 (formerly $65 - changed 5/3) you personally donate to the fundraiser during the month of May, Rae rendiggitydog will draw you a shaded flats commission of a Hermit of your choice.

WHO’S RUNNING THIS? Hi! My name is Luna! You can use she/her, he/him, ze/hir, or ro/ros/roseself pronouns for me. My main blog is @as-if-unreal. Yep, before you ask, it really is just me, but to be fair I've had a lot of help.

BONUS SUNDAY PROMPTS EXPLAINED UNDER THE CUT

TFC - May 5th While he may no longer be with us physically, TFC left behind him a legacy of quiet care and good humor, and Hermitcraft would not have been the same without him.

FRIENDS OF HERMITCRAFT - May 12th There are plenty of shows, podcasts, competitions, other servers, and more woven into the internet ecosystem around Hermitcraft, and plenty more people involved in them: just as a small number of examples, Season 9's Rift opened up to a whole server of Emperor friends, and there are always allies to be made in MCC and enemies to be made in the Life Series. Today is for celebrating all of those who, while they may not be Hermits themselves, exist and entertain in proximity to them.

FAVORITE "ALT" HERMIT - May 19th HoTGuY and Poultry-Man. Helsknight and Evil Xisuma. Renbob and - look, you get the idea. This server is full of theater kids ready to toss on an alternate skin and play into a brand new character at the drop of a hat. Who's your favorite?

GROUPS AND COLLABS - May 26th This month is all about one Hermit a day... but what we really love is when they interact with each other. What does your favorite duo or group of Hermits get up to together?

#hermitaday #hermitcraft #hermit-a-day may #hermitcraft smp #vintagebeef #xisumavoid #zedaph #keralis #ijevin #mumbo jumbo #xbcrafted #skizzleman #stressmonster101 #pearlescentmoon #cubfan135 #docm77 #falsesymmetry #welsknight #ethoslab #joehills #geminitay #bdoubleo100 #iskall85 #tangotek #zombiecleo #impulsesv #grian #goodtimeswithscar #hypnotizd #smallishbeans

[whateveriwant]

The 141 in a reverse harem

18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom

Soap

The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door

But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything

As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy

More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you

Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!

Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…

Gaz

Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz

Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)

Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them

Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like

And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves

While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean

Price

Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time

No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog

As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will

While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature

Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs

No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight

Ghost

Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way

It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door

But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye

What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?

Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast

Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers

It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #kyle garrick #john price #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw3 #call of duty #modern warfare 3

[jaylaxies]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party. 

It felt good to be back. 

Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party. 

“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same. 

Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”

Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long. 

Settling down wasn’t their forte. 

People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once. 

“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having. 

“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act. 

He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.

“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?” 

“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door. 

The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door. 

It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap. 

“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”

Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned. 

“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked. 

Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night. 

“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them. 

“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”

“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was. 

“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way. 

“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed. 

“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious. 

“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added. 

Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin. 

“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more. 

“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed. 

“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided. 

“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added. 

Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way. 

It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark. 

Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation. 

Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again. 

In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits. 

You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss. 

Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top. 

“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him. 

You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey. 

You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again. 

With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with. 

While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun. 

It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee. 

Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while. 

Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you. 

Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too. 

That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight. 

Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough. 

The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure. 

A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle. 

He had to have you. 

You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat. 

What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games. 

“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school. 

“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down. 

You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you. 

“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused. 

Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally. 

Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here. 

Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends. 

Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line. 

He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes. 

You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk. 

For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—

Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly. 

“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short. 

“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house. 

“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”

“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked. 

“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected. 

“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face. 

“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested. 

“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys. 

“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate. 

“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it. 

Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark. 

“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”

“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly. 

“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck. 

Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 

Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—

“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”

“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous. 

“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark. 

“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips. 

“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.” 

You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead. 

She was packing as you were speaking. 

In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you. 

There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all. 

“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment. 

“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes. 

“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?” 

“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”

“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no. 

She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place. 

Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”

As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation. 

Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip. 

Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away. 

Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs. 

It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan. 

He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel. 

The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception. 

“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned. 

The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings. 

And he kick-started it by calling you darling. 

“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck. 

His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way. 

“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”

An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked. 

He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it. 

“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed. 

“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings. 

The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact. 

His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you. 

He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand. 

It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat. 

Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation. 

“How was school?” He asked after a while. 

The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer. 

The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view. 

Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you. 

The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts. 

You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement. 

The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful. 

“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage. 

The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact. 

You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls. 

“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out. 

She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready. 

The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you. 

You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties. 

Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing  right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild. 

Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy. 

Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally. 

Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be. 

Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. 

This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd. 

“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink. 

His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck. 

Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan. 

If he’d bother to look your way, that is. 

“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused. 

That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves. 

Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot. 

His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions. 

Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face. 

Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore. 

Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him. 

He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body. 

You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so. 

The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony. 

Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply. 

“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other. 

The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly. 

“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye. 

You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest. 

“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided. 

You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask. 

His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 

They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage. 

He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe. 

“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”

That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close. 

So close to kissing you. 

Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention. 

“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room. 

The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention. 

Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said. 

Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked. 

“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently. 

“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call. 

He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to. 

“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner. 

“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.” 

The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again. 

Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.  

The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them. 

“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot. 

Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly. 

You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three. 

“Can I have a taste?��� You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes. 

The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way. 

“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure. 

In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”

You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this. 

“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked. 

“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally. 

“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.  

“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it. 

“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him. 

“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said. 

“It’ll be fun.”

“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you. 

“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar. 

“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate. 

Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to. 

“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily. 

“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him. 

“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”

It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move. 

“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked. 

“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water. 

Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water. 

“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene. 

Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone. 

Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold. 

Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight. 

You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame. 

He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun. 

Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour. 

“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion. 

He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes. 

“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours. 

“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again. 

“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face. 

Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining. 

Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about. 

Lee Haechan. 

You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you. 

You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.

Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—” 

“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you. 

He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden. 

There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever. 

“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for. 

He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time. 

Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap. 

He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing. 

Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin. 

“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly. 

He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours. 

“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere. 

He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”

“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch. 

“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested. 

You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized. 

“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted. 

“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him. 

“Let’s find out,” you mumbled. 

Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own. 

The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches. 

Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured. 

He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure. 

“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it. 

You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most. 

“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit. 

It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself. 

Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded. 

“It’s yours—all yours!”

“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life. 

It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt. 

“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you. 

Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you. 

His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper. 

“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up. 

Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow. 

It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock. 

This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder. 

“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further. 

“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.

It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek. 

“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly. 

He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours. 

“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered. 

“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber. 

Hurt. 

That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark. 

With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles. 

Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly. 

“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck. 

“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger. 

Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?” 

Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that? 

“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”

Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out. 

You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now. 

So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems. 

You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back. 

Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night. 

The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up. 

“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you. 

Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep. 

Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses. 

“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily. 

“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening. 

“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?” 

Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry. 

Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again. 

You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course. 

Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there. 

He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down. 

The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck. 

You couldn’t avoid him after all. 

“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay. 

“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”

You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt. 

“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 

“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath. 

“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks. 

“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious. 

“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown. 

“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken. 

“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”

You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face. 

You really wanted to kiss him. 

“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.

You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger. 

He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you. 

“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?” 

You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try. 

Yet another problem lingered in your mind. 

“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.

“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched. 

“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other. 

“Fuck, hide!”

Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGGING: @ajayke-reads @jenoslutie @jjaeyuns @heesuncore @celeste-hoon

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#fic : the only exception #haechan smut #haechan angst #haechan au #haechan x reader #nct smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #donghyuck smut #nct 127 smut #haechan scenarios #nct fanfic #lee haechan smut

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

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