#and i just randomly had idea for them and went for it

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[joshujihan23]

Hello!! May I request Woozi, having a girlfriend she is still in college while he’s an idol producing everyone knew her from who se is and wh she’s with, she starting getting bully from her college, getting hate by people randomly for first time, she went to woozi’s studio but there where reporters outside so she went in fast and scared and panicked when she got to Woozi she was crying, and he hug her but then she got a panicked attack and then Woozi wanted to to take a break to help her get better and stuff like that. I think this is too much and am sorry for this being so much but I feel like you will write the best plot or stuff with this!!! Love your writing and hope you don’t pressure yoursel!!

Believe In Me

☆ pairing: woozi x 14th member!reader

☆ genre: angst, tons of angst, tons of tons of angst

☆ trigger warning: verbal insults, ONE curse word

☆ word count: 3.3k

☆ synopsis: as the 14th member, you are always criticised for being the only woman in the group. however, one misunderstanding has brought your reputation to a standstill, affecting the relationship between you and jihoon..

author’s note: thank you for this request<3 i changed the storyline for some parts, hope you still like it!

————————————————————————

it has been years since you debut. after gruelling hours of practicing, and endless nights trying to convince your parents that you were made to follow your dream as an idol, your parents reluctantly agree, but on one condition.

you had to complete your studies. and you could do whatever you want if you did so.

your yearn to achieve your dreams as a superstar was strong enough, and to just complete university? easy enough.

spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

pledis scheduling you to debut with 13 other guys was far-fetched. being the only woman, you were afraid of the remarks of the public. however, you knew the guys well, well maybe because you have been training with them since you were 14.

it was all normal, especially because you were the same age as chan, so you could rely on him whenever you could. the both of you went to the same high school, woke up early together, and spent hours trying to cram for exams. he was your other half.

not forgetting the other members, because of them, idol life seems to be an exciting one.

vocal sessions with seokmin and seungkwan were a blast, belting out the high notes of your favourite songs and them adding random ad-libs.

practicing choreography with hoshi and minghao (even though minghao sat the side from exhaustion most of the time), your passion out of the roof.

random bilingual conversations with joshua, vernon and jun, which none of you understood each other.

coffee dates with mingyu and wonwoo (or you third-wheeling them)

and midnight talks with jeonghan and seungcheol, one that you truly need after a long day of work.

saving the best for the last, jihoon, the one whom you’d always staying hours in the production room, just to watch him brew a new piece of music within hours at hand.

it wasn’t a surprise if you said you were staying over at his studio for the night, all the members were used to it.

you greatly appreciated it, especially because you adored those moments between the both of you: late night dinners, where you would always force him to eat, sitting beside him while he teaches you the technical details about composing (which you didn’t understand) and one to one talks when things have gotten too heavy.

jihoon was a pillar of strength to you. you have always seen him as the most reliable figure in your group. and that admiration had turn into adoration, where you began noticing the little things about him:

how his eyes always stared at the ceiling when he was trying to come up with new ideas, or how he would always put you to sleep despite his busyness.

and true enough, he felt the same way, causing your relationship to turn from late night buddies to a lovey-dovey couple, one which people didn’t expect.

because a few years after you debut, in your second year of university, it was announced by the company that you and jihoon were in a relationship. fans were not surprised, knowing how close the both of you were, and how both of you enjoyed each others’ presence.

but to non-carats? that piece of news blew the internet up within seconds.

even though you have been in the group for quite some time, the public still had some mixed reactions. which includes your schoolmates in your university.

you had amazing friends. friends who supported you through your idol journey, updating you on lectures, or giving you a heads-up on an upcoming project.

on the other hand, there were some people who can’t seem to comprehend the fact that you were in a relationship with THE woozi from seventeen.

until one day, you were on the way to the campus, when you noticed news spreading on social media, about some carats posting photos of you and jihoon at a cafe, talking and laughing with one another while waiting for the drinks.

you remembered that day vividly. it was dance practice for the comeback. the members gathered to play a round of hongsam, and the first 2 to be out of the game would need to buy coffee for the staff and the members.

but some of the comments twisted the story, mentioning how a few days ago, you were seen with another man, who was wearing a navy hoodie, and a person that doesn’t resemble any of the members.

those comments blew up, and eye-witnesses came to flood your feed with many photos, with an aggregating number of remarks.

‘isn’t she dating jihoon, and she’s outright cheating on him with another man??’

‘poor jihoon. he made her entire career successful, and now she’s stabbing him in the back, he deserves better!’

‘y/n is a traitor! just leave the group, she didn’t deserve to be part of them anyway.’

those comments hit your like the tides of the waves, the weight of their words crashing down one by one.

you continued scrolling, until you saw the trending hashtags:

top in trending:

#SVTIS13

#LEAVEY/N

#SVTDESERVESBETTER

you didn’t know what to do. you were already on the way to campus, there were definitely people that would talk about this. until you saw a notification appear on the top of your screen.

hoon🤍: i know you’re reading them, and i suggest you to stop. when you’re done with classes. come to the studio.

his message, stoic and cold, stung right at your heart. you patted your chest, trying to reassure yourself that he knows the truth, and that you, in fact, would never cheat on him.

you would never risk your image like that.

you would not risk your career with SEVENTEEN like that.

and most importantly, you would never risk your relationship with jihoon like that.

and before you know it, the moment you stepped into the building, you could hear murmuring from the people around you. pointing fingers, giving disgusted faces, and laughing mockingly at you.

the moment your eyes landed on your friends, they immediately walked up to you, surrounding you while trying to bring you into the lecture hall.

“are you alright, y/n? have you eaten?” yoonji asked, a hint of worry lingering in her tone

“don’t think about it, don’t listen to them. you know the truth and you would not have done that.” jiyeon whispered, patting your back gently.

“i’d never cheat on him, i love him too much to cheat.” you mumbled, your voice firm, but your throat continued to tighten. your head hung low, your hands clasped against the cold wood of the table in the lecture hall.

“you should get to the studio right after this class. i’m sure you need some time with him, right?” haesol suggested, her smile reassuring, like always.

you nodded, your mind beginning to flood with the image of jihoon, probably disappointed, or maybe disapproving.

would he believe those rumors?

no he wouldn’t. he trusts me, right?

the lecture hall began to flood with students, some of them turning to your direction and whisper amongst themselves, letting out giggles and disgusted looks.

you tried, you tried your hardest to ignore them, and focus on the lecture instead.

their words shouldn’t get to you. it’s just a rumor.

during the lecture, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag. confused, you took it out, to see a message from chan.

twinstar⭐️: y/n-ah, not to scare you, but during practice today, the members were talking about what happen. you know already, right? but jihoon hyung has been quiet. he didn’t talk much. just.. observing. i thought i should let you know first, because vernon hyung and i are worried.

you sighed. the worry in you escalating. you quickly typed a respond back, your fingers shaking slightly from fear.

you: i’ll be there. my lecture is ending shortly.

at that moment, your lecturer concluded the lesson, and left the hall. that led to the rest of the students to start packing up, talking and laughing while walking out.

you packed your things swiftly, waving your friends goodbye before practically sprinting out of the hall.

on your way to the exit, you heard even more whispers. this time, they were louder, almost as if they were trying to force you to hear them.

until one of them shouted.

“hey! isn’t that the cheater? where is she running off to, her side kick?”

and that sent the people around in a series of loud laughter, mockingly and filled with bad intentions.

you couldn’t take it anymore. it felt more humiliating that it should, given the fact that you were so well-known. you rummaged through your bag, digging out a cap that you stole from hoshi, before flagging a cab to the HYBE building.

you were texting chan, trying to get any possible updates; about the company’s reactions, to the situation between the members, and especially how jihoon was acting. and when you looked up, you saw the crowd.

photographers, reporters, fans, or just people passing by, trying to catch a glimpse of you.

you told the driver to stop at the side, so that you could rush over without the people swarming the cab like a bunch of bees. but when you stepped out, everyone came rushing over, hovering over you to get a glimpse of you, and with some underlying motives.

“is it true that you are in another relationship except for woozi?”

“who is that male? and how is he related to you?”

“unnie, why would you do this to him.”

“woozi deserves better!”

you shifted the cap to cover your face more, your breath getting more staggered. you clenched onto the sleeve of your jacket, trying to catch your breath while focusing on what’s in front of you. there were cameras shoved in your face, light flashing from all the clicking, and people screaming into your ear.

the more you tried to move, the more people began to dig into your skin.

“leave the group, y/n!”

“you b!tch, how could you do this??”

you couldn’t take it anymore. you didn’t even realise that tear streaks started to form on your cheeks. your mind was clouded, with so many thoughts, and was just so overwhelmed by what was going on around you.

you shoved yourself through the crowd, the voices around you beginning to muffle as you clenched your fists tighter. and before you knew it, you felt someone tug on your arm firmly, pulling you into the building.

you yelped in surprise, thinking that it was another reporter, but when you looked up, the familiarity began to fall into its place.

mingyu.

“shit.” he mumbled under his breath, pulling you into his arms and escorted you further into the building. you felt something hover over you, almost as if to cover you. you glanced to the side, to see dokyeom following beside, with a concerned look on his face.

you heard the security screaming outside, telling everyone to disperse and leave the building.

mingyu’s arm still stayed around you, while dokyeom just stayed behind, making sure no fans or reporters could reach any of you.

but you heard another familiar voice, whispering, as if he was talking to someone.

“it’s bad… panic… taking her… there…” and you couldn’t hear anymore of it.

mingyu leaned his head closer to your ear, talking to you in the most gentle way.

“would you like us to take you to woozi hyung’s studio? i’m sure you don’t want to be swarmed by the members, right?”

you nodded, your fists tightening further as you did so.

“hoshi hyung, woozi hyung’s studio.” mingyu said, turning around to face the guy, who was on the phone at the time.

“coups hyung just called. the security are dealing with the crowd, and the company are going to release a statement soon.” hoshi replied.

mingyu nodded, tapping the key code to enter the next part of the building, one which screams familiarity.

on the third door along the hallway, purple lights peaked out of the creaks of the door — your favourite colour. and your ost, one that you sang for a drama that was recently released, can be heard from where you’re standing.

standing at the front of the door, hoshi knocked on the door. the music stopped abruptly, paused at the climax, where you have belted out your high note, which jihoon absolutely adored. the wheels of the chair began to roll, as footsteps started to approach. dokyeom patted your back, giving you a reassuring rub, making sure that you were fine.

your heart thumped. you didn’t know what to expect. you were bracing yourself, hoping that seeing jihoon’s stern expression wouldn’t break you down immediately. rubbing your hands together, you tried to catch your breath, still trying to recover from the effects of the moment.

the door creaked open, the purple LED light spilling out of the room. a man, familiar yet distant, stood before you. your breath hitched, the tensions of the atmosphere heightening. you fixed the cap, facing it lower so you couldn’t look at him at the eye.

jihoon stared for a moment, exchanging glances with the 3 men around you, before mouthing a ‘thank you’.

mingyu let go of you, dokyeom patted your head gently, while hoshi whispered “whatever happens, we’re here for you.” into your ear before moving away.

jihoon opened the door slightly wider, welcoming you to enter, but you stood there, still hesitant, almost afraid that you would cross any boundaries if you did so.

he let out a sigh. he wasn’t usually a guy filled with expression, and isn’t keen on expressing acts of love with people around him. but this time, he took your arm, so gently that it felt like if he wasn’t careful, you would break. he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss on your head, whispering, “don’t be scared, we’ll talk when you’re ready.”

that triggered you to take a step forward, scared but determined. you entered the room, while jihoon nodded the rest goodbye, giving them the signal to leave.

the studio, the one that you used to call your comfort place, was feeling so distant, so cold, and something with a lingering sense of discomfort.

closing the door behind you, he guided you over to his table. the screens were black, none of them option, except for one, showing your ost, the one which he paused.

he sat you down on the couch beside him, his hand never leaving yours.

that couch, the one where you slept on when he worked wee hours, and the one where you and him talked and laughed about anything in the world.

but now, it was anything but comfort.

sensing your discomfort, he pulled you by your waist, inching closer to him. you were surprised. he rarely initiated any forms of love, but today was different.

that was when you felt his arms wrap around you, hugging you tightly, like he was protecting you from the vast world.

you stayed there, surprised, but immediately crumbled under his touch. the tears you have been holding onto started to fall uncontrollably, as you let out sob after sob. you buried your head into his shoulders, trying to stifle the cries.

the both of you stayed there for a few moments, jihoon remained silent, like he was trying to comprehend the fact that you were crying in his arms.

something that you did rarely, even to him.

to him, you are the strongest figure that he has ever seen. so firm in your decisions, so quick to pick up something new, and the first person that people go to when they need people to talk to.

you are so admirable to him.

and the fact that not everyone sees it breaks his heart.

he could feel every single emotion of yours, like his heart was connected with yours.

or maybe it was.

he inhaled a sharp breath, whispering gently into your ear:

“that ost you sang. ‘strength’. you expressed the complicated emotions that a woman live with. writing that song, i was so conflicted. i wasn’t clear about what a woman was facing, but when i see you. how you live like it’s your last day, how you bottle your emotions, caring too much about everyone, you are the inspiration to my music. you are my star, y/n. i don’t know how to explain this feeling, but i trust you. i know you would never do such thing, and it hurts to see the media hate on you like that.”

he was silent for a moment, seeming like he was trying to process his inner thoughts. he pulled apart from you, holding your hand as if he was afraid to let go. he stared into your eyes, the eyes he wished he never had to see tears covering.

you were just so precious to him.

“i know you better than anyone, you know that right? although dino may be my competitor, you are the only reason i continue to smile, the reason why i continue to do what i love today.”

you just stared at him, his words hitting harder than it should. although the members had always supported you, and had been your constant cheerleaders since the beginning, hearing it from jihoon always pulls heartstrings that you could never find.

“i just wanted to live my life. you know i would never cheat on you, right? i-i just wanted to have some sibling time with my brother, but people always twist stories to make me look like a bad person. i’m not, i’ll never do that to you, you know that right?”

“i know that, i know that too well god it hurts. it hurts to see you so broken, and so afraid of the world because the universe is against you. i’ll help you through it. i swear by it. do you believe in me, love?”

and that broke you. he usually calls you by your name, and never by a nickname. you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

“always, i have always believed in you, no matter what.”

you could feel a smile forming on your forehead, his lips pressing against your temple now, placing a gentle kiss on it. he began landing a kiss each of your facial features.

“i’ll protect you.” a kiss on your left eye, kissing the tear away.

“i’ll help you get through this.” a kiss on your cheek, a place where he always does it to ‘play safe’.

“i trust you so much,” a kiss on the tip of your nose, the place where he would always wipe when you get a dot of ice cream right there.

“i love you.” he mumbled, before gently placing a soft kiss on your lips, almost like he was trying to memorise your movements, how you react, and how you would return it right back.

the moment lasted for some time, letting the both of you savour each other.

pulling away, he gave you a soft smile, leaning his forehead against yours, his gaze still glued onto yours.

“we’ll clear the rumours, we will always stand by you.” he whispered against, like a promise he would never break.

you placed your hand on his arm, finally smiling after a long day of distress.

“i love you hoonie, so much.” you said, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

“i love you too.” he responded, his arm circling around your waist.

the rumours may still be spiralling across the internet.

but right now, that was not any of your concern.

as long as you have him, the world would stop spiralling anyway.

[simpfortheseven]

Randomly saw your post asking for lads fic requests so I'm shooting my shot! Can I get some exhausted Rafayel that is rlly barely holding it together (and let's say he still has stuff to do like an exhibition opening or deadline the next day) and MC taking care of him?

(If u want to ofc!) <3

Ahhh my inbox got FLOODED but i love the soft and tender fluff of taking care of someone stressed

Summary: Rafayels showcase opens tomorrow! Except there's a major problem..

As you tidied up the studio you glanced over at your boyfriend, Rafayel, who was currently yelling at someone over the phone. It was most likely Thomas, he was the only one Rafayel ever got mad at. Your boyfriend was normally calm, and riding the waves of life with a smile. But he took his art seriously.

“I don’t care, just find them!” Rafayel says as he hangs up the phone. He plops down on the couch, laying down and looking up at the ceiling.

“Honey?” You ask gently. “What happened?”

“They lost the entire collection. The truck is gone, they can’t find it,” Rafayel says bleakly.

“Oh my gosh-“ You sit next to him. “Honey, I’m so sorry,”

“I don’t have time to mope,” He sighs and stands. “I need to go have a virtual meeting with the gallery director about the lighting. The lighting for the paintings that won’t be there,”

Normally his sarcastic comments make you chuckle, but his face was giving away his true mood. Rafayel heads to his desk to get on the video call, and you're left stumped. You could go to the showcase and find the paintings, but you're sure that there's already so many staff looking. You could make food, but Rafayel needed more that a quick hit of food induced dopamine. Rafayel needed a solution.

You grab a nearby blank canvas. It was a small canvas, 10 x 8, but you weren't sure you could get anything bigger done in time. While Rafayel normally does oil glazing in his paintings, he had other paints. You settle on acrylics, their fast drying time being the better option.

You get to work, making something, anything that can hang in the showcase on Rafayel's behalf. An abstract painting with lines and curves, splatters, you put your love of him into every stroke.

As soon as it's done, you grab a hair dryer. You blast it on high, trying to get it to dry so you can seal it. Before you can, Rafayel comes in.

"Cutie-?" He tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"I made you something," You turn it around slowly. "It's not done yet, so don't judge.."

He looks it up and down, opening his mouth and then closing it. It's as if he cant find the words to describe the feeling in his heart.

"You made this for me?" He says quietly. His eyes are full of adoration as he looks over at you.

"Yes," You look down and mumble. "I thought it might be a good replacement for the work that went missing. I know its nothing like what you made, and its not big, and-"

"I love it," He cuts you off with a hug. "Its perfect, wonderful even!"

You sink into the hug sighing softly. Seeing him in a better mood makes your heart melt.

"You really have the best ideas, Cutie," He smiles, kissing your forehead. "I'll make it the center of my collection at the showcase! But wait, they cant keep this one, it's got to come back and be hung up here! I'll find the perfect place and buy a spot light!"

"Wait- the center? I thought they were all gone?"

"Oh yeah, they found all the paintings," He smiles cheerily at you. "But I'm not really worried about them."

"..You could have started with that, Honey,"

[lilypixels]

"Do you like pumpkins?" "...yes."

Otto by @void-imp

[tarisilmarwen]

My brain made up a whole wacky screwball comedy anime for my dream last night and now I'm sad that it doesn't exist. :(

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[promiscxous]

{ It's time to say hello to the parentals for the Yumishi siblings! And yes, that's right, you count four parents. Two sets. Why? Because the Yumishi family is actually very convoluted compared to most normal families. }

{ First off we have Lucifer, who can be found over on @resxntmxnt once I get everything settled, as the biological father of both Myth (who is also over at @resxntmxnt) and Rain (who's over at @negligxnce). He is the ruler of Meikai no Ryōiki, also commonly referred to as the Realm of the Underworld, altering his original seraphic genetics with dark magic to turn himself into a being known solely as the Demon Lord, yet due to having originally been a seraph, he possesses the ability to shapeshift. Lucifer was the original lover of Kisuyo Yumishi, happening upon her by sheer chance within Seikatsu no Ryōiki, also known as the Realm of the Living (aka the human world), one day when she was being attacked by a group of humans that believed her to be the leader of a cultist group (due to the fact she is heavily religious while the mortals of Seikatsu no Ryōiki have no religion/do not believe in religion of any sort); and despite Lucifer's reputation of being a cruel and mischievous being, he went out of his way to rescue her by slaughtering the humans responsible for her injuries.

Once certain that she was safe, Lucifer began to tend to her wounds with his magic, trying to keep conversation to a minimum though this did not last long due to Kisuyo's curious nature, leading for Lucifer and Kisuyo to eventually develop a strong bond for one another — thus resulting in the birth of Myth and Rain. Yet despite this, Lucifer did not stick around for his lover nor his children and ended up returning to Meikai no Ryōiki, leaving Kisuyo with two children to care for all on her own due to the fact that Kisuyo would not be able to survive within Meikai no Ryōiki. He is devastated by the news of Kisuyo's death.

Secondly we have Michael, who can be found over at @anxmosxty once everything is settled over there, as the biological father of Koui and Yuuela (who is also over at @anxmosxty). He is the ruler of Serafu no Ryōiki, also commonly referred to as the Realm of the Seraph, proudly taking his duties as a seraph to heart, earning him the title of Head Angel by those within Serafu no Ryōiki and as a seraph, he possesses the ability to shapeshift. Michael is the second lover of Kisuyo Yumishi, though unlike Lucifer who was willing to care for her, Michael instead was disgusted with her and the fact she had two children with a man she wasn't married to, often pretending to seem kindhearted towards the woman only to judge her in secret. The only reason he would actively spend time with her every day was because of a rumor he'd overheard from the other seraphs about a woman who had given birth to a pair of twins that possessed unnatural abilities for human children, thus he took every chance he could to get close to her and her boys. Though during his time with Kisuyo, he soon discovers that despite all the reticule she receives from the mortals within Seikatsu no Ryōiki, she stills holds tightly to her faith in the Goddess, which in turn makes Michael begin to view Kisuyo in a different light.

Within time, Michael realizes he's fallen in love with Kisuyo, thus resulting in the births of Koui and Yuuela. Unlike Lucifer, Michael is consistent with his daily visits to spend time with his children and Kisuyo, even going out of his way to treat Myth and Rain as his own. Though, once word gets out that the woman from the rumors has had two more children with unnatural abilities and has her identity revealed, Michael stops visiting Kisuyo and her children out of fear of being casted out of Serafu no Ryōiki by the current Goddess, Heiliger, once she discovers that the children born are a forbidden species known as hybrids — constituted of a law that forbids other species from breeding with anyone other than their respective species — and have a contract placed on their heads to be exterminated as soon as possible alongside their mother. He is devastated by the news of Kisuyo's death.

Third we have Kisuyo Yumishi, who can be found here, as the biological mother of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela. She is a resident of the more olden timed area of Seikatsu no Ryōiki (because Seikatsu no Ryōiki is home to a more olden timed section and a more modern timed section of the realm for those who prefer the more technologically advanced lifestyle or those who prefer the more dated lifestyle), also known as the Realm of the Living, and is presumed to be a human woman by those within the world of Mir Ender. In reality, Kisuyo is actually the daughter of the Goddess, The Sacred One, thus making her a demi-god and serves as a vessel for the Goddess' will within the various realms of Mir Ender. Despite not seeming to possess any abilities, she can actually see the future and share her sight with The Sacred One, but doing so requires a lot of angelic energy and can overwhelm her senses thus why she wears a black cloth over her eyes, leading many to believe that she is blind. Kisuyo is the second oldest child of The Sacred One, being the younger sister of Oizys (the Archfiend of Melancholy), the older sister of Adios (the Saint of Humility), and the older sister of Sophrosyne (the Saint of Temperance), meanwhile Adephagia is the Archfiend of Gluttony. Each of said sisters possessing a mortal name for their travels among the other realms: Adios known as Oka, Sophrosyne known as Maleia, and Adephagia being known as Kisuyo. Oizys is the only one of the sisters to not possess a mortal name out of disinterest in hiding her true identity, thus her sisters simply call her by the name "El" within Seikatsu no Ryōiki among mortals.

Before having her children, Kisuyo was sent to live within Seikatsu no Ryōiki by The Sacred One in order glean how the mortals were fairing in their daily lives, making gathering intel much easier so The Sacred One can make the lives of her residents easier if need be by sending one of her daughters to assist the morals in their true forms (and not as "mortals"). During her time within Seikatsu no Ryōiki, Kisuyo plays the role of a devote worshiper to The Sacred One, serving as a shrine maiden at the Holy Chruch of Heiliger, additionally teaching her children about her religion and convincing them to believe as well. After being abandon by both of her lovers, Kisuyo is then hunted down by an assassin and is killed in front of her children while on their way to the Holy Church of Heiliger for their daily worship, though she does not actually die due to being a demi-god and instead is simply comatose for a time being (until Oizys is able to retrieve her body and awaken her), yet this is unbeknownst to her children who believe she was murdered.

Lastly we have Sire, who can be found over at @prurixncy once everything is settled there, as the biological "mother" of Nikusui (who is also over at @prurixncy) and Inori (who is over at @vxinglxry). You're probably wondering why I said "mother" and not mother. Well, that's because Sire isn't actually a woman in her true form, but is instead a man and said man is Lucifer. Yes, that's right. I said Lucifer. The man I talked about all the way at the top of the post. That Lucifer. Myth and Rain's dad, Lucifer. Demon Lord Lucifer. The one and the same. "Why the hell would Lucifer become a woman to have two children?" Because he blames Michael for the death of Kisuyo and wanted to get back at him for taking away the only woman he loved so dearly, just like Michael believes that Lucifer is the one who took Kisuyo away from him. The both of them believe that the other is responsible for the death of Kisuyo. Why? Because they are both sworn enemies and have always been at odds ever since the incident involving The Sacred One and The Twelve Saints of The Sacred One/The Twelve Heavenly Virtues due to the fact they were both present at the time. The incident that caused The Sacred One to fall into a catatonic state and the divide of The Twelve Heavenly Virtues, which in turn also created the false Goddess known as The Forsaken One and The Seven Archfiends of The Forsaken One. Lucifer and Michael don't trust one another and know that the other would be more than willing to do anything to take away the other's happiness if they could. And yes, they're both aware they fell in love with the same woman.

Basically, Lucifer decides that the best way to exact his revenge on Michael is to become a woman that he can trust and love and become so deeply intertwined with that he simply can't live without her. And that is exactly what happens. Lucifer becomes Sire and acts as a beacon of hope for Michael while he secretly (because he can't let anyone know he was involved with Kisuyo) mourns the lost of his lover and the inevitable loss of his children (since they're being hunted). Sire becomes Michael's crutch. And during a moment of weakness, Sire repeatedly takes advantage of Michael's desperation for his deceased lover, resulting in the births of Nikusui and Inori. Though much like he did with Myth and Rain, he takes Michael's new children away from him and leaves them with Warwick, someone that worships and follows Lucifer, to raise the girls in secret — leaving Michael alone once more to fester about the disappearances of his new children and lover. Only later in time does Michael discover that Sire was Lucifer in disguise. }

{ So if all of you have gotten past all of that, it's time to tell you the exact relations of everyone within the Yumishi family in case you're confused. So here were go!

Lucifer and Kisuyo are the biological parents of Myth and Rain.

Michael and Kisuyo are the biological parents of Koui and Yuuela.

Michael and Sire (aka Lucifer's female form) are the biological parents of Nikusui and Inori.

Kisuyo is the biological daughter of The Sacred One, the absolute Goddess of the world of Mir Ender.

Kisuyo is the younger sister of Oizys, the Archfiend of Melancholy.

Kisuyo is the older sister of Adios and Sophrosyne, the Saints of Humility and Temperance.

Oizys, Adios, and Sophrosyne are all the biological aunts of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela. They are the adoptive aunts of Nikusui and Inori due to the fact neither Lucifer/Sire or Michael are related to The Sacred One.

Myth and Rain are biological brothers (twins).

Koui and Yuuela are biological brother and sister.

Nikusui and Inori are biological sisters.

Myth is the biological half-brother of Koui and Yuuela.

Rain is the biological half-brother of Koui and Yuuela.

Koui is the biological half-brother of Myth and Rain.

Yuuela is the biological half-sister of Myth and Rain.

Nikusui is the biological half-sister of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela.

Inori is the biological half-sister of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela.

Warwick is the adoptive father of Nikusui and Inori.

Warwick is the adoptive uncle of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela.

The Sacred One is the grandmother of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela. She is the adoptive grandmother of Nikusui and Inori.

[strike-9]

saw a post on here about making friends as an adult and i feel conflicted cuz like, overall i agree that all you have to do is get the courage to show up and get the ball rolling by talking to people/getting their numbers even if it feels cringe or 'wrong' to do so however i can't help but raise my eyebrow at the 'act like they're already your friend' part because some people lean way to into that to the point where they forget we're not actually friends yet which inevitably leads to them saying/doing something that's pretty out of line so like. yes put yourself out there, talk to them and get to know them but please remember that people need to actually like, warm up to each other which could take weeks of speaking to them regularly at minimum

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[kazumist]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION .ᐟ

✩ — you always had a habit of saying “i love you” to almost everyone you know—everyone except caleb. or in other words, the three times you refused to say “i love you” to caleb and the one time you do.

✩ — includes: caleb x f!reader. reader is mc but story is not canon compliant. fluff. silly and messy (also drunk) confessions. cw: mentions of alcohol but no consumption. wc: 2,902.

✩ — note: i got this idea otw to uni randomly during the week. thought it was cute :P

you always had a little habit of saying i love you or simply just love you to everyone.

a female colleague compliments you today? you’d chirp back, stop, i love you! thanks; you look great too! someone gives you a surprise gift? you’d squeal at the sight of the gift; i love it! and i love you! how did you know i wanted this? someone does an important favor for you last minute? a sigh of relief leaves you. oh my god, i love you! you’re a lifesaver!

it just slips out so easily for you. there’s nothing wrong with having love to give, right?

but despite this little habit of yours, you never told caleb that you loved him—not even in the small moments like what he usually sees you with others—and he's done way more things for you than them! 

when caleb cooks you dinner? you’d peek from behind; oooh, it smells good—thanks for cooking dinner! when caleb lends a hand to ease your workload? you give him a tired smile. thanks, caleb. i appreciate it, really. and when caleb is the one doing those last-minute favors for you? you’d throw your arms at him, wrapping him in a hug. i owe you one, seriously! dinner is on me tonight! don’t get him wrong; he’s not that upset over it. it’s more like it makes him sulk about it.

because what could be so wrong with you telling him those three words?

caleb doesn’t really say it to you either. but it does make him wonder why you’d refuse to show that habit of yours to him. he knows you like the back of his hand; it’s not like anything was going to be different if you did say it to him. he was your friend too.

right?

well, caleb might be wrong on that.

-

caleb decided to keep track of the times when you would usually say “i love you” to others but don’t when it’s him.

the first was when he was helping you with some spring cleaning. 

throwing out things that should’ve been gone long ago, helping you reach places you couldn’t, caleb doesn’t complain. “hey, this maple syrup expired ages ago. you still haven’t thrown it in the trash?” caleb asks you; currently he’s cleaning your fridge while you flip through the newspapers that accumulated over time. 

“huh? oh! i.. honestly forgot i had that there,” you replied, a bit embarrassed at caleb finding it. but that’s exactly why he’s here—because if he wasn’t, then you probably wouldn’t have noticed that expired bottle of maple syrup. “it’s alright, you don’t have that much expired stuff in here anyways. but what you do have here is... well, not much. when was the last time you went out for some groceries, pips?”

“groceries? uhm... two weeks ago, if i recall it correctly. wait—oh yeah! i was supposed to go out to restock today!” you remembered as you stood up to double check the date today. “we can take a break first and go for a quick grocery run. what do you say?”

and that’s the reason why you’re now in the supermarket with caleb, with him pushing the cart and you checking the list you made.

let’s see... eggs? we haven’t reached that part yet. bread, check. milk, not yet. snacks, half way there. toiletries? we’re way too far from that aisle right now, so definitely not yet.

“what meals do you plan on having for the next few weeks?” caleb asks as you reach the vegetable section. “hmm… i’ve been craving stir-fry lately. so maybe some ingredients for that? i don’t usually make that much since work gets a bit too demanding at times and i’d usually eat out with colleagues instead.”

“i see.. what do you think about stir-fry for dinner later? i’ll cook,” he replies. and you know that he knows that you’d never decline his cooking. “deal! i’ll go check the fruit section while you’re at it.” 

with now vegetables for some classic old stir-fry, one batch of six apples, and one pack of grapes in the cart, you and caleb reached the cereal section. your eyes scanned the brands displayed, checking whether it’s in your budget and if it looks good to buy. you walked ahead with caleb trailing you from behind as he pushed the shopping cart. 

“hey, look over here, pips.” you heard him call you. turning around to face him, you see caleb was holding a familiar box of cereal. “wait... is that what i think it is?” you asked just to be sure. “uh-huh. the very same cereal that we used to eat as kids,” he confirms. you gasp, taking the box from him to check it.

“oh my god, caleb! i lo—” your eyes slightly widened. “i mean, i want it! is there a smaller box there? this is too big for me as someone who lives alone,” you quickly say.

one, caleb counted in his head.

-

the second time was when you two went out to the amusement park.

caleb had always had this competitive side when it comes to winning prizes with the game booths around. this time was no different—he was currently making sure that his aim would be just right for the nerf bullet to hit the bottle. 

as he pulled on the trigger, the bullet was quick to hit the bottle but not enough to knock it over.

he knew that these games would usually be a silly scam. but hey, how could he resist when your eyes shined as you saw that cute little apple plushie that’s promoted as a prize? how could he resist when you were the one who said, “look, caleb! that apple plushie reminds me of you.” with a giggle as a cherry on top?

he couldn’t possibly resist that. so now he has decided that he’ll win that apple plushie so that you’ll have another thing that would remind you of him.

“better luck next time, mate,” the one running the booth said. but caleb isn’t gonna give up that easily—so he pays for another try. and this time, he’ll get that prize for you. you watched him from behind, glancing ever so often at how concentrated he looks. he then pulls the trigger again, the sound of the toy gun ringing through your ears. 

the fake bullet shoots, and just when the owner of the booth was going to tell caleb another “better luck next time!”, the bullet knocks the bottle over. caleb lowers the gun from his line of vision. he tosses it back to the owner, who barely catches it as he was shocked that caleb actually won. 

“i’d like the apple plushie that’s displayed, please,” caleb tells him, pride radiating off. the owner gets the plush and hands it over, congratulating caleb on winning (though it was mostly a grumble under his breath). “here you go.” he hands it over to you. you stared at him dumbfoundedly. “eh? i thought you won it because you liked apples?”

“i got it for you, silly girl. you said that it reminded you of me, right?” 

“awww, you actually won it for me? how sweet of you! lo—” another short pause. “thanks, caleb!” you said instead, but he knew what you were about to say. 

and you didn’t have to know that he used his evol just to get the prize.

two, caleb counts.

-

the third time was when he was taking care of you while you were sick.

as of the moment, you were currently burning up with a temperature of 38.9—which is quite bad. and to top that, you refuse to take your medicine due to the awful taste that it leaves on your tongue. “c’mon pips, i know you hate being sick but you need to take this,” he takes, holding the spoon filled with your medicine for you to take. 

“but it tastes so bad,” you said. it was obvious that your nose was clogged from your cold and your throat was dry from your cough. “i know but how are you gonna get better if you don’t take your meds, hm?” he softly asks. “this might as well just be my death bed then,” you replied. caleb lightly chuckles at that. “now you’re being overdramatic, pips.”

“don’t care, i’m still not taking that.”

that was a lie because caleb soon managed to convince you to take your medicine anyway. it leaves a bad aftertaste on your tongue and caleb helps you drink some water to wash it down. you let out a yawn soon after, the drowsiness side effect of your medicine taking place. “feel sleepy now?” he asks again, his hand combing his fingers through your hair (a habit he can’t control sometimes).

“mhm.. i‘m gonna get some shut eye real quick...” you trailed off, eyes slowly fluttering closed. “sleep well, pipsqueak.” 

“love…” you suddenly say, eyes still closed. but caleb knew better.

you didn’t get to finish that sentence. “thanks, caleb. i owe you dinner after i get better.”

three, caleb counts again.

-

you were drunk the one time you told caleb you loved him.

it was nearing two in the morning when he picked you up from the bar. 

you went drinking with tara and simone as a way to spend some time together. however, you forgot to ask caleb to pick you up when you’re done. but it was a good thing that you had caleb as your emergency contact, so tara and simone were able to get in touch with him, asking him to pick you up in your stead.

“sorry! we didn’t know that she’s a bit of a lightweight. we would’ve stopped her if we knew.” tara apologizes as caleb approaches your table. “it’s okay; it looks like she forgot about that too,” he says with a sigh. swiftly bidding his thanks and farewell to your friends on your behalf, he tightly holds your waist to maintain your balance as he brings you to his car.

“caleb? is that you?” you voice was slurred, cheeks a bit redder than usual, and you couldn’t look at him straight. “yeah, it’s me,” caleb replies, unlocking his car and settling you on the passenger seat.

“are we going home?” you asked him. he hums in reply, “yep, we are. hold on tight, okay?”

-

as soon as caleb returned you to your place, he gently laid you on your bed. he searches for your makeup remover in your room and grabs a cotton pad to pour some product on it. his hands were gentle on you as you stirred from time to time as the cotton pad came into contact with your skin.

“hold still, pips. your mascara is a bit tricky to remove,” he says. 

when caleb is done, he stays with you as he sits by your bedside. there was a comfortable silence as caleb admires you. you were probably sleeping now; the soft rise and fall of your chest was proof of that. yet when you shifted your head in his direction, caleb never would’ve expected what he was about to hear.

“you wanna know why i don’t tell you that i love you?”

“sure, pips.”

“i know i don’t say it much...” a yawn comes in between. “honestly, i only refuse to say it to you,” so my hunch was right. caleb thought. “yeah? and why is that?” he plays along, curious to see where this conversation would lead.

“because i feel like if i do say it... things would change. because if i told you that i love you, i know that.. it’s not like how i say it to others...” your words were still a bit slurred but caleb could decipher them. although he can’t seem to decipher what you mean by that.

you were drunk. you weren’t in your right mind. yet that stupid saying that he hears ever so often when he’s the one out for drinks echoes in his head; drunk words are sober thoughts. before his mind could trail any further, you spoke again. 

“i love you, caleb.” 

the way you said it was quiet and easy to miss, yet caleb caught every single word in his ear—he never misses a word you say. he didn’t—no, he couldn’t say anything. the shock on his face was too evident (though you couldn’t really notice it as your vision is still in a daze).

caleb doesn’t know if he should believe it. 

this is what he wanted to hear, right? well, he got it. but he didn’t expect to hear it from your drunken state.

“i kno—”

“no, you don't,” you cut him off. “you have no idea, actually. i.. i don’t love you like how i love my friends. i love you more than that.” his breath hitches at your words. is this really happening? he still doesn’t know he should believe it. but solely because of the fact that caleb loves you too, he’s willing to accept whatever you would give him. 

so whether this may or may not be due to the alcohol, he’ll be damned.

-

when the next morning came rolling around, your head throbbed.

everything was blurry when you opened your eyes. but you couldn’t mistake the familiar handwriting on a pink sticky note by your bedside table. for your hangover :) it said. you knew that was caleb’s handwriting from anywhere.

getting up, you took the medications that were stuck with the note and went to the kitchen. you glance at the bag—caleb’s bag, to be specific—that’s placed on the sofa. only by then did you wonder how you got home last night but you just assumed that your friends contacted caleb based on his bag on the sofa. the sound of eggs cracking and the stove being on made you aware of his presence in your place.

“hi.” you say, voice still raspy since you just got up. “hey there, pips. feeling better?”

“kinda. sorry that you had to take me home last night but thanks either way.”

“no biggie. good thing that you had me as your emergency contact, huh?” 

“yeah..” 

as caleb continues to busy himself in your kitchen to prepare some breakfast, you sat yourself by the table. “hey... did i do something stupid last night? you know, since i was drunk and all.” you could see caleb freeze for a moment before he replies. “nope. why do you ask?” he doesn’t look back.

caleb had a habit of avoiding your gaze whenever he lies. and that’s precisely what he’s doing right now. suddenly, it all came crashing to you like a strong wave. from the moment he arrived at the bar to the moment you fell asleep to him playing with your hair as a way to help you, you remembered it all.

“you’re lying.”

“i’m not, pips.” he says as he finishes cooking the second egg. he was done with breakfast at this point so you took this as a chance to corner him. turning off the stove beside him, you caged him in your arms as they placed themselves on each of his sides. “cornering me now, huh?”

“i said something last night, didn’t i?”

caleb avoids your gaze. got you.

“you didn’t. you just rambled about some nonsense that i couldn’t really understand,” he tells you. “oh, so i didn’t say that i love you?” you pry further. caleb’s eyes seemed to widen at you as soon as he heard that. “i did, didn’t i?”

“you—you didn’t.”

“there’s no use in lying, caleb.”

the adam’s apple in his throat bobbed as he visibly gulped. “...fine. you did. happy? you say it anyone anyway.”

“yeah. who knew that all i needed was liquid courage?”

what?

“what? why do you look so shocked at that?” you asked him. “i.. i thought you were just drunk. i mean, you do say i love you to everyone over the smallest things.” he answers. “well, you were the only exception to that. i told you, didn’t i? i don’t love you like how i love my friends but more than that. more than friends. to tell you the truth, i’d rather die than be just friends with you.”

“i don’t wanna be your friend anymore, caleb—i want more than that.”

he was silent for a moment. but he leans closer, just close enough for your noses to touch. your hands weren’t trapping him now as he puts his forehead against yours, sighing in relief. your eyes never left his face as he did this. “can you repeat that for me, pips?” he asks. “repeat what?” you ask back.

“that you love me.”

“i love you—hmf!”

caleb presses his lips against yours, hands pulling you against his chest as he does so. your arms found themselves around his neck, while your hands traveled up to his hair. “say it again.” caleb pulls away. you found yourself giggling at him. “i love you—” another kiss. “again.” he says. “i love you—” and another kiss.

you pull away this time, giving him a playful glare. “hey! you can’t just ask me to repeat myself and then repeat kissing me as well!” caleb chuckles at that. “sorry, i just... always wanted to do this with you.”

caleb presses one final kiss to the corner of your lips. “i love you too. more than you realize.”

[bxdtime-ceai]

i went to a protest today

[demusewriter]

Change Your Ticket

Summary: Jungwon has been missing you ever since the tour kicked off, the distance stretching across months like an endless road. Every late-night call, every fleeting messages, makes Jungwon longs for you more than words can say. So why not change your ticket home to surprise him? Pairing: Idol!Jungwon x Non-idol!reader Genre: Tooth rotting fluff! A Short drabble Warning: Still unedited because of jetlag (_　_)。゜zｚＺ Word Count: 2.5k Author's Note: I randomly wrote this while on a business trip, waiting to board my flight, when my favorite One Direction song started playing. (yass, I’m an og directioner!) That’s when the idea for this story hit me. (￣︶￣）↗　 After that, all I could think about was changing my ticket and flying to the next wtl tour stop. ＞︿＜ (I’m still having pcd from wtl bulacan (┬┬﹏┬┬) I miss them so much, please). So yeah, this is inspired by my favorite song that made me delulu during my teenage years—Change Your Ticket by One Direction. Enjoy! ♪(´▽｀)

Jungwon loved performing. There was no hesitation, no doubt, this was what he was born to do. Under the dazzling stage lights, with crowd's cheers echoing in his ears, he felt alive. Every move was second nature, every note resonated through his veins, and every glance into the sea of fans felt electric.

The stage was his home and the music is his heartbeat. From the moment he stepped into the spotlight, the rest of the world faded away. It was just him and the rhythm, the pulse of the bass guiding his body, the lyrics slipping from is lips like a secret shared between him and the thousands of strangers.

There was no fear, no weight on his shoulders. Even in the chaos of rehearsals, the endless flights, and the night with barely any sleep, he never questioned it.

This is life, the lights, the screams, the rush, it wasn't a burden.

It was a dream he chased with everything he had. The hours of training, the sacrifices, the pressure... it had all been worth it the moment he felt the heat of the stage lights and heard the first chords of the opening song.

And he wasn't alone. His members were right there with him, their presence steady anchor through the whirlwind. They understood the unspoken pressure came with the dream, the nerves before a performance, the exhaustion after long days, the quiet moments backstage where they'd catch their breath and share soft smiles.

They were his brothers, his family.

The playful teasing during practice, the shared excitement when they nailed a difficult routine, the late-night talks after shows... those moments kept him grounded.

On stage, they moved as one, each member feeding off the other's energy, every glance, and subtle nod speaking volumes. Off stage, they were his comfort.

Every member brought a piece of home to to his life. No matter where they went, no matter how far the tour took them, they always had each other.

But even with that comfort, there was still a part of him that longed for something more.

Because as mush as he loved the stage, the adrenaline, and the bond with his members, the silence that followed was deafening.

When the light dimmed and the music stopped, when he stepped offstage and into the solitude of his hotel room, the emptiness settled in

And lately, that emptiness felt heavier.

Because he missed you.

The hotel room was quiet, almost too quiet. The only sound came from the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional distant honk from the streets below. Jungwon lay on the massive king-sized, the blanket pooling around his waist, his phone resting on the pillow beside him.

The screen glowed faintly, casting a soft light across his face as your voice filled the space.

"...and then I spilled coffee all over my papers. It was a total disaster," you said with a laugh, your face lighting up the screen. "I hade to redo everything."

Jungwon smiled softly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He listened, hanging onto every word, but his mind kept drifting, not because he wasn't interested, but because he missed you so much it hurt. He missed hearing your stories in person, missed the way you'd curl up beside him, your head resting on his shoulder while you talked about your day.

"You're pouting again" you teased, tilting your head slightly.

Jungwon blinked, lips pressing into a thin line before sighing. "Am not" he mumbled, turning onto his side to face the screen properly. His voice was quiet, almost sulky, making the corners of your lips tugged up into a soft smile.

"You totally are." You giggled, and his heart clenched at the sound.

God, he missed that.

Jungwon buried his face into the pillow for a moment before peeking at you again, his beautiful bobba eyes soft with longing. "I just... miss you, baby" he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Your face softened, eyes flickering with understanding. "I miss you too, wonnie."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "It's just...after the shows, when I come back to the hotel, it feels so empty. The hyungs are around, but it's not the same. I keep wishing you were here. I got used to you being by my side, y'know?" He bit his lip, hesitating.

"I didn't realize how much I needed your constant presence until now."

You heart ached at his words. You could see it in his eyes, the quiet loneliness, the weight of the distance between you.

He tried to respect the fact that you had work, that you also have life and couldn't always be with him on tour, and you never heard him asked you to drop everything just to be by his side.

He love you so much to ask something selfishly.

But you knew, you knew him too well.

With every call, every soft "I miss you," he was one step away from asking you to pack you bags and join him.

And you missed him too.

Who wouldn't miss this adorable, sweet as strawberry with chocolate that you are lucky to claim as you boyfriend?

You giggled softly, turning onto your side in bed, you phone still in hand as you gazed at him. He looked so pouty and cute, lying there with the blankets pulled up to his chest, blond hair falling into his eyes.

If only he knew.

Because you weren't halfway across the world.

You were in the same country. The same city. The same hotel. Just a few floors away from him.

After you business trip overseas, instead of flying home, you changed you ticket and booked a flight to his next tour stop. With the help of his members, who'd struggled to keep the secret under wraps, given how easily your leader boyfriend could sniff out their lies, you'd managed to sneak in unnoticed.

You kept the conversation light, telling him about your day while Jungwon listened quietly. His eyes stayed on you, soft and heavy with longing. Every now and then, his gaze flickered across the screen, taking in the little details, the way your hair fell over your face, the curve of your lips when you smiled.

But then his eyes shifted past you for a moment, narrowing slightly.

"Wait..." He squinted at the screen. "What's that behind you?"

"Hm?" You tiled your head, trying to keep your voice causal. "What do you mean?"

Jungwon sat up slightly, his brows furrowing. "The wall." He pointed at the screen. "It looks...familiar."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Does it?" you asked innocently, shifting a bit to the side to block more of the background.

But it was too late. Jungwon's eyes darted back to the screen, scanning every corner. The beige walls, the faint texture of the wallpaper, even the soft glow of the bedside lamp, they all matched his room perfectly.

His breath caught.

"Wait...No way." His eyes widened. "Baby... where are you right now?"

You bit your lip, trying to fight the grin threatening to spread across your face. "What do you mean? I'm at my hotel."

Jungwon's brows furrowed deeper. "Which hotel?" His voice barely above a whisper now, his mind racing. He shifted off the bed, glancing around his own room as if expecting you to jump out of the closet.

You giggled, shaking your head as you tried to keep your voice steady. "Baby, you're overthinking too much"

"I'm not" he shot back, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Tell me where you are."

"I told you," you teased. "I'm at my hotel."

"Which. Hotel."

You bit your lip, holding back another laugh. He looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind. His patience was running thin, and you could practically see the gears in his head turning.

Sighing dramatically, you pouted. "Can't you just wait until tomorrow?"

Jungwon frowned. "What? Why tomorrow?"

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just... because."

His eyes narrowed further. "Y/n..." He dragged out your name, suspicion lacing every syllable. His gaze flicked past you again, studying the background. And when he saw the same chocolates that the hotel given to them for free on your bedside table. His lips parted slight, and his eyes widened.

"Wait a minute." He sat up straighter. "Are we on the same hotel?"

You heart skipped a beat. "What? No!" you quickly blurted out, but giggles escaping you weren't helping your case.

"You are." He gasped, running a hand through his hair. "You're here. You're literally here."

"Jungwon—"

A sudden shake of the screen made you burst into laughter as Jungwon scrambled out of the bed, the phone slipping from his grasp before he caught it again. You could hear the shuffle of his footsteps, the rustling of blankets being thrown aside, and the soft thud of a door being swung open.

"Oh my god," you laughed, watching his blurry movements. "Won, wait—"

"Nope." His voice was firm, rushed. "Which room you are"

"Come on, wonnie can you just wai—"

"Baby" His voice softened, almost breaking. "I'm this close to going crazy if I don't see you right now. So please, sweetheart, which room are you in? I badly need to see your gorgeous face that I've been missing so much."

You heart pounded breath hitching at the raw emotion on his voice. The way he begged made your chest tighten, and you knew there was no point in hiding anymore.

The plan the members wanted you to do to surprise their leader were thrown out the window when you saw the desperation in your boyfriends face.

With a tenderness in your eyes and softness in your lips, you gave in.

"Room 1009"

Within a minutes, a loud knock echoed through your room. Without hesitation, you flung the door open.

And there he is, you adorable boyfriend that you misses so much, standing there, chest heaving, and eyed wide as they met yours.

For a split second neither of you moved. Then, in a blur, he surged forward, arms wrapping tightly around you. His warmth engulfed you as he buried his face in your neck, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“You’re really here,” he whispered, voice cracking slightly.

You clung to him, fingers gripping his shirt as you buried yourself in his embrace. “I’m here,” you breathed.

His arms tightened around you, as if making sure you were real. “God, I missed you.”

He continue clung to you like you were his lifeline, his arms trembling slightly as they tightened around you. You felt his heartbeat pounding against your chest, fast and uneven, and when you pulled back just enough to look at him, the sight made you heart ache.

His eyes were glassy, dark pools shimmering with unshed tears. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. He just stared at you, his gaze flickering across your face like he was trying to memorize every detail, the curve of your lips, the softness of your eyes, the warmth of your touch.

"You're really here..." he whispered again, his voice cracking. "Please, don't make this a dream" he begged as he shook his head.

You reached up, cupping his check gently. He leaned immediately into your touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "I'm here, baby. It's real. I'm not going anywhere."

A shaky breath escaped him as he opened his eyes again. One tear slipped free, trailing down his cheek. You wiped it away softly, your thumb lingering on his skin.

"I missed you so much, baby" he confessed, his voice barely holding together. "Every ight, I'd come back to the hotel, and it felt...empty. I'd lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing you were there beside me. Even when we'd call, it wasn't the same. I just wanted to hold you."

Your heart clenched. "I missed you too. Every day."

He swallowed thickly, pulling you closer until there wasn't a silver of space between you. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shaku. "You don't know how much this means to me."

You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. "I think I do."

Jungwon let out a soft, shaky laugh, through it sounded more like a sob. He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his head on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you again. You felt his tears soak into your shirt, but you didn't mind. You held him tighter, running your fingers up and down his back in slow, soothing strokes.

Jungwon sighed softly, his breath warm against your skin as he nestled deeper into your embrace. The weight of the past month apart melted away, replaced by the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his cheek,

His arms held you close, fingers lazily tracing patterns along your back as the two of you settled onto the bed.

Jungwon buried his face in your hair, breathing you in, his hold tightening as if afraid you might slip away again. You felt his lips press a soft, lingering kiss against the top of your head, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective shield.

Slowly, the hotel room that once so cold and empty, now felt like home.

You shifted slightly, tucking yourself against his chest, and he immediately tightened his hold on you. The warmth of your body, the softness of your touch — it was everything he’d longed for.

It was everything he'd been craving for months.

No cameras, no crowds, no stage lights. Just you.

Jungwon pressed another kiss to your forehead, his eyes fluttering shut. His heart ached at the thought of you leaving again, of coming back to empty hotel rooms and cold beds. No. Not this time.

This time, he was going to be selfish.

As you slept soundly in his arms, Jungwon quietly reached for his phone. With careful fingers, he opened your flight details, scrolling down to the option he’d already decided on the moment he saw you standing in front of him.

Change return flight.

With a soft smile, he tucked the phone away and pulled you even closer, his heart finally at peace. No more waiting. No more distance. From now on, you’d face the world together.

As sleep threatened to pull him under, one final thought lingered in his mind, bringing a small, satisfied smile to his lips.

This time, we’re going home together.

©2025 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

[ahqkas]

Hello! ^^

First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.

♯ FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )

— gn!reader, fluff

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE

bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at first—not because he doesn’t enjoy the affection but because he’s not used to being greeted like that.

( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.

he braces himself instinctively like he’s about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. “wait—” is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.

“miss me?” you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.

bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. “you know, most people say hello first.”

alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, “at least you don’t end up unconscious, master wayne.”

he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. “you’re going to sprain something one day,” he murmurs, though there’s a faint warmth in his tone. )

the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into “are you hurt?” mode despite being the one who should be resting. “you can’t just launch yourself at me like that—you could get hurt,” he’d chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure you’re okay.

alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruce’s typically aloof charge. “ah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.”

DICK GRAYSON

dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energy—or even outpaces it—would not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though he’d absolutely let you win most of the time.

( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.

“dick!”

“whoa—!” he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. “are you trying to kill me, or…?” he teases, his voice light with laughter.

“i’m just so happy you’re home!” you say, nuzzling into his neck.

“yeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,” he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. “i mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacket—this is exactly what i needed.” he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )

dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? he’ll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? he’ll carry you piggyback all the way home. it’s basically a constant competition to outdo each other.

one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t finish his reps. “you’re impossible,” he’d say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.

JASON TODD

jason todd would act like he didn’t know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, he’d secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone who’s so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at first—but it would also heal a part of him he didn’t know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way he’d instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.

( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.

“jay!”

before he can react, you’re barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. “oh, shi—” the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.

“missed me?” you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. “miss you? you act like i’ve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?”

“too long,” you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. “you’re ridiculous, you know that?” he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )

jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. “do you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs aren’t exactly indestructible.” but if you ever didn’t tackle him, he’d immediately notice. “what, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?”

he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, he’d dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, “i can’t go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.”

TIM DRAKE

tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because he’s used to people respecting his personal bubble—or just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, he’d secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but he’d quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.

( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesn’t even hear you sneaking up behind him.

suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. “hi,” you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.

“[name]!” he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. “you’re ridiculous,” he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. “if i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?”

“no promises.” )

your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. “[name], i love you, but you’re going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,” he’d grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.

he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, he’d let out a long-suffering sigh and say, “fine. five minutes. but only because you’re so insistent.” cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work , please consider reblogging and / or commenting ! thank you if you do 🤍

[hanafubukki]

Summary: A normal day at Diasomnia's lounge.

“Mother.”

The previous chatter filled room became silent at the matter of fact tone.

Right before the explosion of sound, “SILVER?!”

“No need to yell, Sebek.”

“Who are you calling mother?!”

Silver pointed at you.

You had frozen at this point. One would think you were one of Malleus’ beloved gargoyles—well, grotesque more accurate to say, from the way you had turned into into stone.

What would you say? How do you react? Silver said it so matter of factly as if it was already true and set in stone.

You are happily in a relationship with Lilia. You two have been for a while now. It’s been amazing!

But mother?! It came out of nowhere. You won’t deny it gave you giddy feelings especially at the implications—but wait, how did Lilia take this news?

You twirl around to face him and the expression he has is one you have never seen before.

If you weren’t so taken by it, you would have taken a picture to save this moment forever. No matter, you doubt you would ever forget this sight.

In front of you, one Lilia Vanrouge smiled. A blush swept his cheeks to his ears. His eyes have a soft hue of rose magenta. He looked at you as if you were the center of the world and he but a planet pulled to you.

Oh-

“Marry me.”

You laughed.

You vaguely heard glassware shattering.

“You did not just ask me that!”

Of all the ways…

“I did,” Lilia cheekily grinned at you.

You leaned on your hand, smirking at him with eyebrows raised, “You’d think I’d say yes to that?”

He leaned closer to you, eyes turning dark, “You know you want this. I’m a hot commodity.”

You tilted his face closer to you, observing as his pupils dilate; breaths mingling before, “Any more of this and Sebek will have a stroke.”

You lightly push him away with your fingers.

You turned to see Sebek’s reactions had been muffled this entire time by Silver’s hand.

“You didn’t say no~~~”

You thought about it, but not really fully. You couldn’t hide the wide smile on your face even if you tried, and really, you weren’t trying at all.

“Okay, let’s get married.”

A flurry of green, black, pink, and limbs has you trapped on the couch. Kisses are placed all over your face and neck as both of your laughter resounds in Diasomnia’s lounge.

Bonus:

Malleus stared at the scene before him.

His eyes moved to Silver who nodded at him.

Ah. So they’ve finally taken the next step.

Malleus sighed internally, for all his wisdom and whimsy…Lilia was oblivious to matters important to him.

Really? How many times would one of them have to step in for him to see what was in front of him.

He calls me stubborn.

Malleus returns to his room after nodding a ‘well done’ to Silver.

He had a few letters to send, one of which to his grandmother. Lilia would need an increase in his allowance and you would need to meet her…

Truly. This is something he should have done already.

Well, that’s what family was for. To support each other, isn’t that right? Lilia?

…this story went from A -> C -> B -> H ahsjsjdjd 😂😂😆😆 I initially started this as a funny joke where Silver calls you “Mother.”… and then it snowballed to a proposal randomly absjsjdjdjd 😂😂💞💞💚💚

I swear at least a quarter of my stories is Lilia proposing. Ahsjsjdj which yes, very self indulgent of me because omg proposal by Lilia absjsjdjdn *internal screaming* love love love it ahhhh 💙💙💙🥰🥰🥰

But I just find it funny it happened so many times now. Something something for every nickel I have for this something something I’d have a dollar lolol

Some facts about this fic:

I love love adore the idea of Lilia blushing and the redness just spreading from his cheeks to his ears. Ahhhh the image in my head is so cute 😭😭💞💞

That proposal, as I said before, wasn’t there before. But then Lilia took over and said “yes, proposal.” And then we got proposals. I think I changed that scene about 3 or 4 times 😅😂 I couldn’t decide?? And Lilia was taking me in all directions on how the proposal would go and which dialogue. Seriously, this bat fae, taking me for a ride lolol

One example is you pulling him close instead of away and saying “yes” and he becomes flustered but then this bat fae said no; he wants some banter so I had to change it.

Malleus was supposed to show up and just accept the chaos in front of him and sit down to have coffee…but theeeennn mind went, what if it was planned? Lilia is…well, he’s oblivious at times but he is wise. Sometimes, he doesn’t know what he wants or he has trouble grasping onto it. Like…he doesn’t believe he deserve to have them. (Healing takes time after all).

We see how Silver literally had to ask for his name. Yes, Lilia had his reasons but he’s always had kept it to himself. Literally, had to be “I want your last name.” to him. So, the same thing applies here. His family stepped in and gave a push. Lol

Malleus’ last line at the end was influenced but Cater’s SSR Halloween where he goes, “Blood related or not, we are family aren’t we? Didn’t you promise to come to us for help when you needed it?” (not verbatim). I like the idea of reversing that on Lilia a bit. His family helping him out. ☺️☺️💞💞

[hoshifighting]

staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.