#I wanted this to be pure crack but you know gotta have the angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

novacqnes · 1 year

Note

omg could u write an au fic where both ellie and the fem!reader are detectives working on a case but like uhm, they’re also- married 🤭 and in one scenario they are undercover in a club and the reader has to act flirty with the bad guy and so ofc ellie is jealous…… that means yes. jealous s e x. uhm. please. i just- want to imagine ellie in a suit LMAO

poison // ellie williams

warning: angst, smut, jealousy, top!ellie, squirting, fingering, strap on usage (fem receiving), mentions of crime (prostitution, human trafficking, drugs)

pairing: ellie williams x fem reader

a/n: …..this is pure genius. i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this ask since you’ve sent it in. i definitely need to delve into detective ellie fics for my own peace of mind. also i don’t usually put a wc in requested fics but this one is kinda lengthy so keep that in mind—

ellie saw red. thick crimson splotches crept into the corners of her vision making it nearly impossible to see— let alone think clearly. green eyes narrowed into the sight on the opposite side of the bar. there, a man and a woman sat playfully bantering back and forth. their words were drowned out by the obnoxiously loud music, but the image was enough for ellie to get the picture.

to most he was known as philip grant, a pompous ass responsible for running one of the largest prostitution and drug rings in the country. the man was balding, pale, and stocky— he couldn’t have been over 5’2, yet his arrogance preceded him. ellie observed silently. his lips, cracked and brittle, pressed into a menacing grin as he fixated on the woman before him.

jealousy stirred inside ellie the longer she watched the woman— her wife flirt with grant. the long touches, dramatic laughter, and seductive eyes made her stomach turn, yet there was nothing she could do besides watch. any sort of interference would blow your cover, jeopardizing the lives of everyone in the club— including you. thus ellie opted for bitter jealousy, submerging herself in it as she did her best to trust you. after all, you needed to find some way to nail him or he’d walk free once again.

“i see him, it’s the last table to your right,” ellie whispered, adjusting the buttons of her coat. the two of you sat at a table just a few feet away, dressed to blend in with the elite to attend the club. she wore a jet-black suit that conformed to her body perfectly. yet your focus was pulled in the opposite direction.

“el, we’ve got to get something from him tonight.”

“i know.” her breath hitched, pressure mounted onto both of your shoulders as time crept by with no true plan. by midnight philip grant would still be a free man and the possibility of changing that was growing scarce. you needed to act fast and without a call to action, ellie was without choices. she reached for her gun, sliding it into her jacket as she rose from her seat.

immediately you hopped up blocking her path, “what the hell are you doing?”

“…..i’m gonna go talk to him?” ellie muttered, her cheeks burning bright pink. shooting the man was not an option. the arrest needed to be swift and quick— which meant no guns nor endangering customers. you swiped the pistol from ellie’s hands, discreetly placing it in your bag.

you pulled her back towards the table, “you can’t just walk up to him. the moment he sees you coming he’s gonna run— and it’ll be months till we get an opportunity like this again.”

“so what’s your idea?” she sighed, her hands thrown up in defeat. carefully your eyes lingered on the man for just a moment. dozens of girls swarmed, some from the club, others had come with him. they hung on grant’s every word— so much so that if he asked them to jump off a cliff they’d do it in heartbeat.

“i’ll go.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” ellie sputtered, her eyes doubling in size.

“listen to me, philip grant is an asshole— a chauvinistic pig that gets off on exploiting women. all i need to do is stroke his ego a bit and he’ll start talking.”

you were right, and ellie knew it but she didn’t like it. she loathed this part of the job. the side that seemingly blurred the lines between reality and fiction. it required you to play a character, and put on a persona in exchange for just a sliver of information. it was something you were good at, yet ellie still detested it.

“i can do this, alright? i promise if things start to go south i’ll signal and we’ll send the cops in— now tell me, how do i look?” despite your adamance ellie was more than hesitant. yet the plan was already in motion, and there was no time to stand in the way of it.

“beautiful,” she whispered, allowing the pit deep inside of her to fester. you shot your wife a quick grin, placing a soft on your face before adjusting your dress. then you whipped out a dark red lipstick that was sure to captivate grant’s attention.

in one large breath, you sauntered over to the opposite side of the room. as you approached the man a sly grin took hold of your lips. plastering itself there the more he eyed you up and down. his gaze felt like venom. your stomach churned with nausea as it intensified, sending a cold chill through your bones. nevertheless you took the seat in front of him, outstretching your hand.

“mr grant, right? i’m elora.”

philip grant was an asshole, in every sense of the word. simply seeing you with him was enough to evoke more than jealousy from ellie. she couldn’t hear anything over the loudspeakers so she had to rely on sight, which seemed to worsen her regret. she despised the way he looked at you— as if you were prey, something to be conquered. and you had no choice but to play into it.

she watched as your arms wrapped around his, pulling him closer to your body. in a matter of minutes, you’d manage to blend in with his women seamlessly, cooing at the man’s words. ellie’s felt nauseated as you doted on the man, pushing the boundary in order to draw more information. she was sure that if she stood by any longer she’d vomit.

desperately she sought out a sign— anything to signal that she could arrest grant but nothing came. the music ruined any possibility of eavesdropping so she had to opt for visuals and they only made her even more jealous. she fiddled with the silver band on finger, her gaze narrowing on grant’s hand. it trailed from her pocket and to your arm as he slipped you a paper, leaning in dangerously close to whisper.

ellie wanted to gag, his lips nearly brushed your ear. although it was small compared to what she’d witnessed it was enough for her to radio in the cops surrounding the small bar. within a matter of seconds, she stormed over to the two of you, whipping out her handcuffs.

“wait el—“ but your protests fell on deaf ears. at that moment dozens of officers swarmed the building, closing in. philip tried to push past yet ellie’s hand sent him crashing back down. his face turned beet red and ellie towered over him, more powerful than you’d ever seen her.

“philip grant you are under arrest for 18 counts of human sex trafficking and the murders of rose and ruby daniels,” she said sternly, locking the metal around his wrists. bewildered, his eyes found yours as if to plead for help yet he was baffled by the lack of surprise on your face.

“elora? y-you know her? lying bitch you set me up,” he spat, malice laced in each word. he opened his mouth to continue yet you count register a thing. instead, your focus found its way back to ellie. you watched as she passed grant along to the cops, the solemn glare in her eyes remaining. this was a win for both of you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the looming tension that hung over your heads.

“what’d you find out?” her words were short and she refused to spare you a glance for more than a moment at a time.

“he told me where he keeps the rest of the girls.” you slipped a sheet of paper into her palm. in it was a full outline of grant’s businesses which was guaranteed to work against him in court. despite uncovering the piece of evidence that would bury him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of annoyance radiating from ellie.

“what?” she asked, growing restless under your prying eyes.

“i told you to wait,” you faltered, “he was gonna tell me about murders before—“

“we got what we came for, y/n. i wasn’t going to sit back and watch you flirt with him all night.” the last thing you wanted to do was fight— especially not about philip grant. yet ellie wasn’t in a position to reason with you. she saw what she wanted too— and that was you flirting with someone that wasn’t her.

“listen i’m gonna leave this in evidence… just meet me in the car.” with that ellie turned sharply on her heel not even allowing you the chance to respond. still, you did your best to remain cheerful, making a mental note to apologize once you got home. hopefully, the events of the night would be long forgotten for both of your sakes.

however, this was the opposite of what happened— the car ride back home was dreadful. ellie hardly even looked your way. vivid details of the ordeal seemed to haunt her. the shameless image of you fawning over grant seared its way into her memory and it only upset her even more. it felt like a wall was being built between the two of you and you had no way of tearing it down. unfortunately, when you got home it was no different.

ellie stormed into the apartment ahead, leaving you trailing behind. she made her way into the bedroom and the anger was detectable even from the kitchen.

“you hungry? i could make something or we could order in?” you called, only to be greeted by the distinct sounds of silence.

you tried a second time yet all of your attempts amounted to nothing. exasperated, you followed pervading noise all the way towards the room down the hall. there ellie sat on a large bed— the place the two of you shared your most intimate moments. on most days it acted as a safe haven but now it seemed more treacherous than ever.

the air was thick, presumably from the budding tension that only seemed to stir as you approached your wife. her green eyes buzzed with a certain type of poison— jealousy.

“please don’t tell me you’re giving me the silent treatment because of philip grant,” you muttered, shifting under her fierce gaze. it ignited something inside of you that was utterly unfamiliar. it was ardent passion in a way that you’d never experienced.

she rose from the mattress, stepping towards you until she was just a few inches away. the heat was palpable and it took shape right in between the two of you, blending in with the jealousy that oozed from ellie.

“you know what i hate most about this job?” she whispered, her voice light and delicate like a feather. you hadn’t realized it then but you were just barely touching the wall. and you feared if ellie stepped any closer you’d be right against it.

“seeing you with other people.”

you began, “but it doesn’t mean anything—

“did you see the way he looked at you? hm?” she moved towards you, gradually sealing the distance between your bodies. the cold surface of the wall pressed up against your back, offering you little comfort as ellie spoke. her words were pointed and direct, you could almost make out the hurt behind them but it was overshadowed by a more intense feeling.

“he wanted to fuck you. jesus y/n….the guy was practically frothing at the mouth the entire time and i had to sit there and watch it.” ellie seethed. she placed each of her arms on the opposite of your body, caging you in as her body stood firm against you. thus with every movement, no matter how minuscule you were able to feel the muscles that lay under ellie’s heavy suit. each one molding against you just perfectly.

“can’t really blame 'em’ though, right?” ellie leaned into your ear, pressing her body against yours with much more fervor. she left soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck when you felt something prod at your thigh. you bit back a gasp, jerking against the wall as you looked down.

“you’re just so beautiful….” she cooed, a sharp tinge glimmering in her eyes. her words were gentle although her body told an entirely different story— and you would soon experience the magnitude of it. she hooked her calloused hands under your chin pulling you into a heated kiss. your hands roamed her body stopping at her crotch where you felt a strong bulge. immediately you went to unzip her pants but quickly stopped by ellie herself.

“n-no— not yet. get on the bed.”

you followed her orders without complaint. you took your spot on the bed as ellie watched, slowly peeling from her clothes. you followed suit stripping down to nothing but your underwear. once again, you reached for her yet she remained planted in her spot, desire burning in her eyes. you ached to have her near you— to have ellie inside of you.

“i need you ellie— please,” you whined, slowly soaking the thin piece of cloth over your core.

“yeah?”

dazed from anticipation you nodded mumbling incoherently. your hands trailed to your pussy, circling over the soft flesh as your wife hovered over you blinded by intense jealousy. she wanted nothing more than to see you beg. more as a reminder to herself than to you. no matter what happened during a case— you were hers and the simple sight of you pleading was enough to confirm that.

“where do you need me?” ellie teased, running her fingertips along the side of your thigh. she brought her index finger to your underwear, sliding it underneath.

“in—inside me.” you shivered at the cold contact, gripping the sheets as she continued. one worked on your clit, teasing the nub as one more made its way into your cunt. ellie couldn’t help but moan at the feeling— your walls clamped around her digits desperately as she curved them. pressing up into the spongy tissue that was your g-spot.

“o—oh shit…..”

you pressed your eyes closed relishing in the warmth that spread across your entire lower body. thick beads of sweat formed on your skin the more it persisted. ellie’s hand was slick with your fluids but it wasn’t enough. she picked up the pace drawing intense pleas from your lips that replicated music— yet she wanted to do more.

“tell me what you want, y/n.” her tone was so assertive and it made your head spin. you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to look back. frenzied short hairs clung to the side of her face and her cheeks were flushed, it all read of sweet determination. like she had something to prove.

“i want you to f-fuck me— with it,” you purred, your hands traveling back to the now-exposed dildo that sat in between her legs. ellie leaned down to kiss you once more before removing her fingers from your heart and bringing them to your lips. in one swift motion, ellie moved her body on top of yours, situating herself comfortably in between your legs. she kissed down your chest, cupping her hands over your toys as she brought each one to her mouth, feverishly sucking.

she sat up, teasingly running the silicone over your pussy coating the tip. the sensation caused you to jerk back, sending a smirk to ellie’s plush lips. after moments she moved forward, filling you to the hilt.

“is this what you wanted?”

“yes—yes it’s fucking perfect el,” you cried, hot tears welling in the corners of your eyes. she pursued a relentless pace, slamming her hips against. the rapid movement spread the pleasure all throughout your body, leaving you nearly speechless.

strings of obscenities filled ellie’s ears as she sunk into you with each merciless stroke. your legs shook from the impact, desperately wrapping against her. the bed rocked along with the two of you, crashing into the wall as ellie fucked you.

you clasped onto her face, cupping it in your palms as you brought her face down. she pressed her forehead against yours, her pants mixing with moans and the filthy sounds of your pussy.

“don’t stop, fuck me ha—“ your whines became caught in your throat as ellie pulled out, gently moving you into your stomach. she moved behind you, taking her place as she continued the fervent pace— this time with much more aggression.

your cheeks rubbed harshly against the fabric of the blanket. you weren’t given much time to adjust to the next position before that same pit pleasure took shape inside of you. and it strengthened with each taunting thrust of ellie’s hips.

she knew you were close, she could practically feel it in the way your body writhed underneath her. thus her movements had much more vigor and purpose behind them. she needed to bring you to unravel and she was going to be the one to do it. thus ellie placed a firm hand by your head to stabilize herself. using her free one to toy with your sensitive clit.

“close aren’t you?” she hummed.

“….please let me come” your voice grew weary and your body stiff. streams of pleasure rippled through your body and in a matter of seconds your vision was distorted by black spots. the sweet poisonous pit in your stomach unraveled, drawing deep loud moans from your lips.

ellie moved from your body. watching in awe as you soaked the white sheets beneath you, drenching them in fluids. shockwaves tore through your body beautifully leaving you a mess on the bed you shared with your wife. she left soft kisses all over your face and neck, slowly easing from your high.

“so beautiful…..”

as your vision cleared you gazed up at ellie, who hovered over you. the fierceness in her gaze was long gone, replaced with concern as she looked back at you.

neither of you said anything about the ordeal, in fact, you’d almost forgotten about it. instead, you were struck with fatigue. dozing off as ellie doted on you. she removed the wet sheets from the bed, replacing them with new comfortable ones for you to sleep on.

she took her spot snug behind you, burying her face into the crevice of your neck as she basked in your warmth. she adored these moments. especially the intimate one’s where she was able to see aspects of you that only she’d have the pleasure of experiencing. and it was all the reassurance she needed.

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #ellie willams #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #the last of us x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams fanfic #requests

1K notes · View notes

janyiahsucks-blog · 11 months

Text

Rodeo Clown

a lyric fic inspired by rodeo clown by dijon

wc 1.9k

warnings: commitment issues, slight angst, teenagers being stupid

“Well I can't lie, I couldn't wait

But it's half-past eight and you're late again”

This is the fourth time this month miles has been late for one of your “hangouts” if you can even call them hangouts. They’re more dates than anything. At the moment the two of you are at a stand still in the no man’s land between relationship and friendship but you can’t shake the fact that something is off. Ever since he became spider-man he’s been blowing you off but some of that is slightly expected. Now more than ever though it’s been getting worse. Like you can’t even get a hold of him and he’s always talking about this strange new friend who doesn’t seem to have any name. But you know he knows we all know everyone knows it’s Gwen. The girl he started being friends with right before all of this started. Before what you thought was a life long friendship with a completely unrequited crush turned into so much more.

“Well, I got those high heels on, and lace

And I spent two or three hours beatin' my face”

Tonight’s date was supposed to be special it was supposed to be something of an anniversary since the two of you started “talking” (as he called it) six months ago. You spent about two whole hours making yourself look as good as possible. Dressing up to the nines pulling out your favorite products to style your hair and maybe a bit more makeup than usual. But once again he was no where to be found. You whip out your phone and send the fourth text this hour.

you: hey miles is everything okay?

you: ur really late now

you: if you’re not coming can you js tell me that

you: don’t even bother anymore miles i’m going home. i hope wtv it was is important.

“So why? Could you explain?

I can't lie, I'm fed up”

Sick and tired were the only words to describe how you felt walking home alone. The ghost of him lingered on the walk as if he was right beside you. But he wasn’t he was undoubtedly most likely somewhere with Gwen. She seemed to be the only topic with him recently.

“Yeah me and my new friend we had such a fun time when we went there” “Me and my friend swung through here once it was like the highlight of my day.” “My new friend is a little quicker than you so I gotta adjust my pace when we walk together”. Though she was nameless for the past few months he used to address her by name. You never put the face to the name never even met her ,but you knew it was always her.

“I don't like being stood up

And hey, hey

What are you ashamed of?”

The only thought that could cross your mind was. “Why?” What was so wrong with you that you couldn’t be placed on the same pedestal as Gwen. It’s always Gwen this Gwen that but never you. Your name never graces the same smile that hers does. His eyes light up and his voice shifts a pitch when he talks about her. Like that’s his entire world. What is he so ashamed of when he’s with you. He hides you from the world and his parents haven’t even met you. Maybe they met Gwen though. One thing was for sure you couldn’t stand being stood up like this again.

“So what are you so afraid of?

'Cause you're missin' out

On good, good lovin'”

“You know what if he doesn’t wanna answer me i’ll just call him” You mutter under your breath sighing out of pure frustration.

After five rings and no answer you hear his voice “Hey it’s Miles” “Finally you’re gonna answer-“ “I’m not at the phone right now probably super busy with a bunch of cool stuff but you can leave a message. Peace” And a long aggravating beep. “If you never wanted something serious that’s all you had to say. You never had to lead me on or leave me stranded at that stupid fancy restaurant lookin all stupid Miles. Go be with that stupid Gwen girl or whatever her name is cause it’s obvious that everything we have ain’t as serious as whatever you have goin with her” Your voice cracks out of pure rage and a little (lot) of sadness. The heavy feeling in your chest returns. “All I wanted to do was love you man” You say to no one in particular just trying to put the thought into the air. Hoping and praying it would relieve some of the tension.

“You ride those rank bulls and get first place

Eight seconds is all it takes

You got those silver spurs on

And chaps 'round your waist

Calloused hands, and dirt on your face”

You knew all it took to be spider-man. The constant late nights and beatings. Miles would come crawling through the fire escape attached to your window. Bruises and blood seeping through the suit. Patch ups and crying sessions. Either you on his shoulder begging him to be safe. Or him on yours pushing all his problems into the safe atmosphere of your arms. You knew the tolls both mental and physical that it took on him. Never knowing if the scars you see will be the worst of it all. Trying to hold onto the memories the two of you made while he was out protecting the city and putting his life on the line.

“And hey, hey

I still wear the t-shirt that you gave me”

You finally made your way home unlocking the door and sighing before trudging to your bathroom and washing off all the makeup you took so long on stripping yourself of your cutest outfit. Putting on the shirt Miles left on the floor of your room one night. The one you thought framed him the best but he said it “look way better on you”. Pushed it on you to keep it and he could just wear his hoodie home. Reluctantly you agreed wishing you had something of his to keep you company when he was gone.

“So what are you so ashamed of?

Rodeo could kill ya”

He never really tried to bring up his spider-man duties to you. He thought it would bore you and you didn’t wanna hear some of the gory details of his day to day. You wished you could hear it all though. Just know he’s safe, know nothing out there is trying their hardest to kill him. The job is deadly and you both were fully aware of the topic yet he tried to dance around it. Never fully bringing up the whole word to you to keep you out of danger and him out of a strong headache. You were his safe space and he didn’t wanna invade that with spider-man. He didn’t want what the two of you had to be infected just like every other part of his life.

“I just wanna kiss ya

But you won't let me near ya

But I'm here all the same”

Lately though it’s like he’s been putting up these walls. Slowly but surely placing the bricks day by day it’s like you get less and less out of him. One week it’s long heartfelt conversations all night the next it’s short one word responses to all of your texts. You just wanted to be there for him more than anything but he won’t let you close enough to do that. All you wanted to do was hold him in your arms and kiss his forehead telling him everything would work out and this is just temporary. You’d be there in all the other ways he would let you though even the smallest ones.

“At the rodeo, I

Put my face on and smile

And you ride good”

Miles runs his hands through his hair trying not to rip it out of the roots. “Shit shit SHIT” He paces around his room trying to keep himself controlled. He was out on patrol once again forgetting about another date. He made his way home about five minutes ago with a proud smile on his face. He just defeated one of the sickest villains in Brooklyn and got him straight to jail. His smile dropped when he took out his phone and saw around seven notifications from you on his phone. “Oh fuck I’m so fucked”. He knew that keeping up with a “relationship” could be stressful especially as spider-man. But you, you handled it with such grace. Always knowing what to say and do. Being there for him without him having to say a word and nothing made him prouder than parading you around town. Telling all his friends about you and Ganke couldn’t go five minutes without hearing your name. He tried to keep up he really did but he just couldn’t. God he loved you he just really had a funny way of showing it.

“And I get scared watchin' you

And the crowd gets wild, run to you”

He runs out of his room as soon as he sees all the texts and listens to the voicemail. He barely has enough time to put on his coat as he rushes to your house. A few minutes later he finds himself sprinting up your fire escape. The knocks on your window scared you as you tried to fall asleep.

“Hey mi amor open the window please”

You make no efforts to get out of bed and unlock your window and he sees that.

“Please you gotta let me make this up to you. I’m sorry I swear just lemme explain myself”

He placed his head against the window as tears start to pool in his eyes. You finally open the window and quickly turn your back to him trying to make some distance between the two of you.

“So where were you Miles”

A sigh escapes his lips quickly. “I was out on patrol”

“With Gwen…” You cut him off quickly.

“What…No not with Gwen. Why would it matter if I was.” He cocks his head to the side trying to get a grip on what the problem really is.

“I dunno you just seem to be spending a lot of time with her that’s all.” She shrugs trying to make herself seem nonchalant even though this conversation was killing her on the inside.

“Is this what this is about. Gwen….Really?” He scoffs.

“Yes Miles I mean you seem to prioritize her over whatever this is. You never even asked me out yet you’ve been taking me on dates and sneaking through my window for months. It’s like this means nothing to you. You’re always so quick to talk her up though. If you really wanna be with her go do it.”

Miles silently crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you placing his head in the crook of your neck.

“I run to you, I run to you, I run to you

I love you, I love you”

“I’m sorry for letting these thoughts fill up your mind baby. It was never like that with her I swear to you. She’s just my friend someone I can talk to about all my spider-man stuff.

He runs his hands across his face sighing before continuing his speech.

“I love you mi amor. That’s why I’ve been acting like this. I didn’t know how to address it or if you would feel the same way and I was scared. I was so so scared. I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me and not explaining. I’ll do better; I’ll be better. I promise”

He kisses you on the cheek gently holding you like you could break if he applied any more pressure.

“Will you let me be your boyfriend”

sorry for the long ahh fic 💀💀 anyway u should gimme requests and stuff. thankssss

#miles x reader #astv fanfic #atsv x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #miles morales x you #miles morales #miles morales 1610 #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales headcannons #across the spiderverse #atsv miles #spiderman atsv #Spotify

257 notes · View notes

the-psyco-simp · 2 years

Text

Through your love, I’m saved

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani

“I’ve heard of a love that comes, once in a lifetime. And I’m pretty sure that you are, that love of mine…”

Synopsis: Ran can’t help but give in when you ask him to stay in bed with you in the morning.

CW: none, just pure fluff, pet names (baby girl, love), probably some angst

Word Count: 883

Authors Note: This is just something I thought up while unable to sleep last night, and it’s dedicated to @sweet-seishu come get your mans 👀 (for the full effect, listen to “Dandelions (slowed and reverb) by Ruth B. It will make you cry)

The sound of your husband’s alarm going off brings you out of your dreamland and into the land of waking. You hear Ran groan and feel the bed move as he reaches to turn it off. You roll over to look at him as he checks the time.

"Ran? Do you really have to leave?" you ask sleepily, putting your arm around him and press your body into his side, trying to convince him to stay in bed with you a little bit longer. It's the same song and dance every day, you want nothing more than to hold your husband close, than him getting up and leaving you alone anyways.

"You know I do. As they say, no rest for the wicked." He looks down at where your head is now resting on his chest. His heart squeezes at the sight of your sad eyes. He wishes he could take the time to just lay with you. To remember the peace, he always feels with you in his arms. But he knows if he gives in now, he won't get out of bed for the rest of the day. He'd give anything in the world to stay under the covers and bask in the warmth and light you've always brought to his dark world.

"Please, love? Just stay here with me a little bit longer. I've missed spending time with you in the morning." You plead, hoping this morning he would give in to you. You tighten your arm around him and nuzzle your face further into his chest.

He maneuvers his arm around your shoulders and sighs, running his figures up and down your arm. He closes his eyes again for a few seconds, trying to harden his resolve to get up and get ready to go into work, when he feels you placing light kisses on his chest.

He can't help but relax under your actions, "Babygirl, if you keep doing that I really won't want to leave, and I gotta go to work." He makes no move to stop you already losing his grip on what little motivation he had.

"That's the point, Ran. I miss you. You're gone all day; you don't get back until two in the morning. I never get to see you anymore." You can feel tears falling out of your eyes. "All I'm asking for here is one day. One day that we spend together like when we were younger." Your figures tracing the tattoo covering the left side of his body.

He can hear the way your voice cracks, and with it so does his heart. Ran knows he hasn't been around much lately, that he's been neglecting you, but he didn't think it was hurting you this much.

He stays quiet for a few seconds contemplating his options. If he calls in, Mikey will chew him out when he gets back, but he would gladly suffer through it to be able to spend the day with you. "I'm sorry I haven't been around, babygirl. I'll make more time for you, I promise." He kisses the top of your head to seal the promise.

"Does that mean you'll cuddle with me?" You look up at him, seeing his beautiful violet eyes looking down at you. The love in them takes your breath away. It had been so long since you saw such a calm joy in their depths.

The smile on his face got bigger as he picked up his phone again, tapping the screen a few times before bringing it to his ear. "Ran?" you asked, trying to figure out what he was doing. Ran held up his finger to ask you to give him a second.

"Hello?" Answers the bored voice on the other end of the call.

"I won't be coming in today, Rin. That gonna be a problem?" Ran hadn't broken eye contact with you, so he could see the way your eyes light up at his words.

Rindou laughed before answering, "Finally taking some time with your girl, huh?" Rin laughed again. "Don't worry about it brother, I'll cover for you today. Say hi to her for me though." His tone was teasing at the end, which made Ran roll his eyes.

"She says hi back, and yeah. Thanks, man. I owe you one." Ran hung up the phone as his brother chuckled again. He set it to the side, keeping his eyes on you.

Ran maneuvered so he could put his hands on your hips and help you to straddle his waist. he laid on his back and looked up at you, admiring the view. With the sun now streaming through the drapes you almost seemed to have a halo over your head. Which thought was perfect, considering he thought of you as an angle sent to save him.

"You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I will spend every second of the rest of my life proving that to you. I love you, babygirl." Ran leaned up to seal his lips with yours, hoping the kiss would say what he could seem to put into words.

You pull away slightly, murmuring, "I love you too, Ran. More than you could ever know." Before putting your lips back on his, smiling into the kiss.

#ran x reader #ran x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #bonten x reader #bonten smut #ran smut #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #moot: katie 🌙#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev #x fem!reader #x female reader #emilia.writes🗡

508 notes · View notes

lady-of-the-puddle · 1 year

Text

All right I've been holding this back for a while but now you get to see my

Rating Tron's Exes

list

The boy:

See? him face

And now the exes:

FIRST UP WE HAVE

1. Dyson

Bougie Rat Bastard 3000

Is the Worst™

Absolute dork loser

Made a grab for power and betrayed his brother his captain hiS KING

Not even hot

2/10 Sucks like the vacuum he is

2. Clu

Discount fuck boi god wannabe

Okay listen

There's chemistry between them

Even if it's toxic af

He's part of Kevin of course he and Tron dated

Yes it was full of hate

Esp when he was stuck as Rinzler 😏

But sometimes u gotta date an asshole to know what u dont want

0/10 Actual Nazi

3. Able

Daddy? Sorry

FATHER material

Has stable job and income

Firm but kind and caring

Will tell u to stfu

Divorce was mutual and they got split custody of Beck so pretty chill breakup overall

10/10 Need I say more

4. Cyrus

Boundaries Were Crossed

Yet another betrayal *sigh*

My boi Tron knows how to pic em

Somehow more crazy than Clu

But less Nazi at least???

Spectacular revenge plot tbh

Looks pretty sick 😎

World's Messiest Breakup

5/10 Dedicated to the bit

4.1 Beck

CRACK SHIP I SWEAR

I know y'all are about to come for me

But listen

Programs have no concept of age

This ship is purely for fun for me, I highly ship them as father and son usually (see: Able)

Something about the desperation and trust issues between them speak to me

We all know it would never work out

7/10 doomed by the narrative (if we HAD ANY)

5. Flynnster

fuck boi God SUPREME

I am highly biased on this

loves Tron so much he ported him from the old system

Spent more time with him than with his own son (-1 point for that)

named everything after him

Tron was ready to give up his own life to save him

ANGST

never officially broke up but he thought he was derezzed so that counts

9/10 HERE WE STAND WORLDS APART HEARTS BROKEN IN T- ok I'll stop

6. Ram

Cinnamon Roll too pure yadda yadda

Wide eyed sweetheart

Never did anything wrong in his short cycle

Was in a brief polycule with Tron and Flynn

Only broke up because he derezzed

What's not to like

11/10 perfect angle

7. Yori

HER

Unpopular opinion y'all are about to murder me

They were each other's beards

She's a nerd lesbian

Because she's hot and I want a chance with her I want her to be

They simply realized they preferred other programs and amicably broke up

She calls him up from the first system every now and then and they spill some hot tea and rebellion tips

100/10 bc im in love with her here have another pic

Anyone I missed?

In conclusion, all users and programs desire Tron carnally, grid's biggest slut, he's in nothing and is my everything thank you for coming to my TRON Talk next time I'll rate Beck's exes cause that's been overcooking in my brain too

#tron #tron uprising #tron legacy #tron 1982 #kevin flynn #tron beck #tronblr #clu #yori #rinzler

158 notes · View notes

clever-fox-studios · 4 months

Text

Two Weeks

A little thingy I started as a crossover of my Legacy AU and @garbagechocolate 's Truth Virus. I might continue as it's short and meant as pure angst, if that's desired; it'll go on AO3 if that's the case. It's not canon to my AU at all, but it does have Legacy-canon-compliant information that may or may not be relevant when the time comes~

Content below the cut:

Overhead lights hummed, casting dirty yellow-white light across cement, tile and metal rebar and pipes, trying and failing to make the dirty underground service bay seem somewhat sterile but only managing to pick out every crack and spot of dirt in grimy, perfect detail. Normally, Parts & Service was busy and filled to the brim with techs and programmers looking for something to do during the day, but at this moment only two could be found operating the repair pod, the others long gone on daily tasks of some sort or hiding out of camera view to catch a smoke or pilfer uncollected fries from the warmers. Fingers drummed the service pod keyboard lightly–click-clack-clack–but never enough to press a key by accident. That was what rookies did. Contrary to the opinion of corporate, they were not rookies. They were not paid like rookies, and yet…

Yet.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just wait for Phil?”

Balling a fist, the older technician slammed his fist into the desk, avoiding the keyboard altogether but still startling his coworker into biting his own cheek with fright.

“Owowow–”

He gave the younger worker a hard look, stilling their whining so he could speak, sharp and firm as a stroke of a key on the computer. “It’s a fucking patch for the new system they wanted the jester thing to test run.”

This was true.

“It’s from the server at fucking corporate, so it’s gotta be legit, right?”

This was also true.

“We shouldn’t have to wait for Mr. Espresso For Dinner to supervise us every fucking time the talking pipecleaner needs a spit shine”

Nervously, the younger technician nodded, then shook his head. “But Phil–” He stopped for a moment. “Mr. Mercer was extremely clear about us being careful with the theater unit after the–”

“I. Don’t. Care,” the older man cut in, face creased with angry lines and graying brown hair. “I’ve been working here almost as long as that junkrat in a trenchcoat. Just because he’s Reed’s favorite little dumpster fire he gets the head IT position, but I’m just as capable of working on the attendant as he is. I’m not a fucking rookie–no offense.”

“N-none… taken,” the younger man squeaked, unable to voice further concerns.

“Just get the fucking twink down here so I can get this done, will you?” With a sigh, the older man wheeled his chair to the desk and began to prepare the file for processing, grumbling under his breath. “It can’t be that hard to install a fucking patch for something that’s already in their system, it’s robotics, not fucking rocket science!”

“Let me guess.”

Sun fidgeted with his ray, fingertip flicking over the point rhythmically, eyes looking anywhere but into the acid-bright hazel eyes staring him down from behind unkempt brown-black hair.

“You didn’t stop them because Mason’s a jackwad and you didn’t want to cause more problems?”

Nodding, Sun’s fingers closed around the end of his ray tightly–a nervous reflex. Before he could do any real damage, a hand wrapped around his wrist, firm but not overbearing. It still got him to jump, gaze darting up in spite of himself to see the hazel gaze was less of a disappointed burning and more of a concerned flicker, one that knew well and good about his… ‘problematic’ tics that had been developing over the months.

“I’m not mad, Sun,” the man said, voice gentle as he slowly brought the jester’s hand down from his head. “Not at you two, anyway.”

Sun couldn’t help himself, the apologetic babble coming up before he could really stop it, “I’m so so so sorry, Phil! I know you’ve told us not to let them bully us, but the new employee was so nervous and we didn’t think it was a big deal, we just–”

Phil’s palms pressed into both of Sun’s cheeks, causing him to stop as the short human got his attention, face unchanging. “Sun,” he started, speaking slowly and firmly, “I. Am not. Mad. At you. Understand?”

Feeling his jaw quiver, Sun nodded; the hands left his face, turning to hold the man’s chin in thought as he finally broke eye contact. Quietly, Sun folded his own together at the fingers, trying desperately to contain the guilt he felt as he noticed the stirring in the back of his programming of Moon as the night unit tuned in from wherever it was he found himself during daylight hours.

“Is he mad?” the crackly voice inquired.

Sun knew only he could hear his brother but it didn’t offer any solace–it was upsetting, if nothing else. Wrong. Even after months, he still wasn’t used to it, finding himself turning to answer only to be met with an empty room. This time, though, he was acutely aware that Moon wasn’t there. That turning would net only a concerned gaze from their maker, Phil Mercer.

“Not at us,” Sun whispered back, aloud.

Phil’s gaze flicked to Sun at the sound, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t need to. Instead, Phil mumble, a bit loudly on purpose so they boys–the theater jesters both–would hear without needing to be direct, “That idiot can’t even set the time on a microwave without using wikihow. I could run diagnostics myself and see if it worked but Al’s already up my ass as it is and I don’t have time for a full sweep…” He sighed with exaggeration, folding his arms together.

Sun’s head was tilted curiously at the mutterings, his fingers fidgeting over each other rhythmically.

“Of course Mason picks this week to be a pain. The inconvenience can’t be helped.”

“We’re sorry–”

“Shush.” Rubbing the back of his head and neck, Phil came to a decision–he only hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite them all later. “How’s daycare duty treating you both? Any issues outside of the whole ‘Moon didn’t switch from theater to nap time’ thing the patch was for?”

With a click and whirl of his rays, Sun smiled, glad for something good to talk about--relatively speaking. “Oh, it was lovely! The children are so much fun to interact with! Such wild imaginations!”

A half smile crept onto Phil’s face under his 5-o’clock shadow. “Moon? What about you?”

Sun waited as Moon spoke, relaying his answer precisely while switching the voice setting to the blue unit’s default. “It’s different trying to make the little ones sleep instead of cheer or laugh. Keeping them up by mistake was… odd. But I’ll learn.”

“Well,” Phil mused, “hopefully you find it easier now but I’ll be honest, I don’t trust that patch corporate sent–especially knowing Mason was the one to install it.”

“I don’t trust that guy as far as we can throw him,” Moon muttered, earning a snicker of agreement from Sun.

Catching this, Phil asked, “What's so funny?” still grinning.

Eyes wide, Sun stuttered, “N-nothing! Moon just–doesn’t like Mr. Mason!”

Knowing how this game went, Phil pressed, “So what did he say?”

“It’s not that funny, really!”

“Then why’d you laugh, Sunny D?”

With a raspy giggle, Moon kept on in the back of Sun's mind, “I saw him struggling once to change the input source on the TV in the P&S bay when he pulled a late shift.”

Sun’s voice cracked with disbelief. “What???”

“Let me in on the joke,” Phil begged dryly, giving the tall robot a playful elbow.

“No no–stop!” Sun laughed, rays spinning while Moon dropped more little things about the man named Mason and his prevalent skill issues; if he could cry he’d surely be in tears from laughing, between the snark of his brother and the amused ribbing of his friend on either side as Phil started piling on his own observations of the tech’s mishaps. “Please, this is so mean!”

“You’re feeling better though, right?”

The others stilled, giving Sun a chance to catch his breath so to speak. “I… am, yes.”

“Good.” Phil gave his back a pat. “So listen carefully, alright?” Sun nodded, feeling Moon’s presence close in as he leaned in to hear. “I’ve already got a bunch of things to go over and finish up for you guys for this new trial run they want you two to do. I’m going to work on my own fix for the default program issue but I can’t install it until I’m back.”

Sun’s rays retracted just a hair, giving off a series of clicks that gave away his sadness as he clamped his hands against them with embarrassment. “Ah!”

Phil’s brows raised in a sympathetic arc. “I know, I wouldn’t leave it be like this but Emilia’s…” Without meaning to, Phil’s voice trailed off for a moment, his mind going a thousand miles away briefly. “She’s having a rough trimester.”

“Oh no.” Carefully, Sun’s hands grazed Phil’s shoulders, attempting to comfort the man . “Of course, of course! You can take time for Mrs. Mercer as much as you need!”

Phil gave the lanky robot’s hand a grateful pat. “Appreciated, Sunny, but I still have a job to do. I’ll be home for two weeks and I’ll come back with all kinds of things to clean you up and make you the best daycare attendant those chucklefucks at corp–”

“Phil, language!” Sun blurted, catching both of them by surprise for a moment.

After a second of seeing Sun’s shocked face, rays retracting with embarrassment, Phil let out a deep laugh. “Well, it’s already working so that’s a relief!”

“Can we do that to all the adults?” Moon wondered quietly, a devious feeling creeping into Sun’s mind of how his brother wanted to abuse that feature for his own amusement. It was admittedly tempting with the way some of them talked.

Exhaling briskly, Phil got the pair’s attention before they could get caught up with mischief planning. “Do you think you two can handle me not being here for that long?”

“We should." Sun hoped saying it would give him some confidence in the idea.

“Can you promise me not to be too agreeable with the new guys and keep your butts out of P&S until I get back?”

That one would be harder. “W-we can try. The kids…” Images of the last few days flashed through Sun’s active mind–colorful paper, sliced apples, pillows soaring through the air–and glue.

So.

Much.

Glue.

“You are too new to this to have that look of ‘back in ‘Nam’ already, Sun.”

Sun blinked and came back to the present, grin shaken but not gone. “It was just a lot! Great, but a lot! We can handle it! The helpers are very good at keeping us ready to go!”

Moon mused, “Especially Nana,” which made Sun’s smile change from nervous grin to gentle curve at the mention of the older woman with curly, gray hair and too many bracelets that insisted on everyone, even the staff, calling her ‘nana’ or ‘granny’ despite none of the kids in the daycare being her family by blood.

Phil observed all of this quietly, taking note of Sun’s expression and how he tended to look off to the side whenever Moon spoke. Despite being unable to hear the entire exchange, he had some idea what they were talking about; nothing those two did went unknown to him for long, even in spite of their best efforts to hide some of their hiccups from him at first. If nothing else, he was glad they could still talk to each other actively. I’m glad those mooks in the office are still afraid of the big bad OSHA man, he thought to himself smugly, thumb twitching against his forefinger.

With habitual movements, the messy haired man pulled a sucker out from somewhere in his pocket, peeled the wrapper off in one graceful tug and popped it in his mouth–he grimaced as the sour tang of lemon-lime graced his tongue. Peeking at the wrapper, he saw a small green gator-shaped icon stare back at him. Of course it would be Gator Blast.

“Phil?”

Said man glanced up, realizing the yellow jester had finished his aside in time to see the face Phil pulled at the bizarre flavor of Faz-pop he’d managed to fish out. “Hm?”

“What’s wrong?”

Rolling the candy to his cheek, Phil grumbled, “Monty’s lollipop flavor tastes like plastic and battery acid.”

Horror and concern flickered through Sun’s optics. “Should you be eating that??”

“Too late now.” He checked his watch quickly and made a displeased sound in his throat. “I’ve gotta go wrap some stuff up before Al starts in on me, promise me you two will be careful.”

“We promise!”

“I’ll see you in two weeks. Moon.”

Sun felt his brother’s awareness lean in again just as he was recoiling to whatever mental corner he claimed for himself.

Brow raised as he placed a hand on the daycare exit doors, Phil stated, “Behave,” despite knowing full well it wouldn’t be obeyed for very long. Waving politely, Sun affirmed on Moon’s behalf that he would, indeed, behave as much as possible–Moon himself made no such claim but chose not to argue the point for the moment. No, it would be more fun later to bring it up if and when Phil eventually found out he was not, in any capacity, behaving himself.

With the daycare functionally empty now, the yellow attendant set about checking his new and improved To Do list. Equipment and playsets loomed above him, one of the few things he found that could make him feel small–and hesitated. They still were not used to sharing a body, never mind the bizarre sensation of action overrides that happened on occasion when one of them felt too strongly and it overtook the other’s priority listing, but this one Sun had gotten familiar with. Though he himself didn’t have any issues with the bright plastic tubes and tangled nets that so many kids--and himself-- loved to scramble and climb over, he knew his brother had some… lingering hesitations about them.

For good reason, he knew, despite having been assured Moon wouldn’t remember the details, yet it didn’t stop the lunar unit from the occasional fear response whenever either of them found themselves looking up at the bars and bridges too long. Gently, Sun murmured, “Moon?” just loud enough to get his pair’s attention and snap him out of his trance–immediately, Sun felt his knees relax and motion return to him.

“Sorry, Sunny,” he heard back after a moment.

Carefully, Sun picked his way across the daycare floor to the great glass wall that enclosed the play area; there was a spot they knew where the shadows on the other side made the glass just a bit more reflective, allowing them a murky look at themselves if they stood in just the right spot. For a moment, Sun saw only himself staring back, red frill laying neatly around his neck, eyes bright and baby blue against his yellow and gold facial mold; he blinked hard and was not surprised in the least that when he look again, what stared back was a red frill laid under a blue cowl, navy and gray features replacing his own as grayed eyes peered back from the glass. A quirky little feature that had taken getting used to, but Phil never passed up on a chance to make things a bit easier on them, even when corporate threatened him with termination for making ‘unsolicited upgrades’.

Guilt crept through Sun’s circuits as he met Moon’s gaze in the glass; part of him was glad Phil hadn’t manually swapped them out to see for himself, but the betrayal of trust was almost too much for the yellow jester to bear. Feeling this, the reflection of Moon’s face creased with concern–he couldn’t touch his brother physically, but Moon knew he could be heard regardless. “You could have told him,” the night-colored bot said gently.

Sun started, “Its–” but hesitated, unable to maintain eye contact with the reflection. “I’m sure it’s nothing major. Mr. Mason isn’t the most… careful with us, and Phil has enough to deal with. You heard him, Mrs. Mercer isn’t feeling well and she’s having a baby–!”

“Sun.” Moon’s voice was firm, cutting off the tirade of excuses before it could get out of hand. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m sorry.” With a start, Sun realized he’d grabbed onto one of his rays again while talking.

“Why do you do that?”

The barest hint of a shrug moved Sun’s shoulders. “Maybe the same reason the playsets make you freeze in place?” Sun’s brow furrowed. “I–I’m sorry, I…”

That hadn’t meant to be said aloud.

Moon seemed just as confused as Sun felt, thankfully, his brow an exact mirror of Sun’s, bunched in confusion at the odd vocalization. “It’s… fine,” he eventually managed to say, shaking his head. “I don’t mean to do it, I just…”

“I know.” Standing straight, Sun brushed imaginary fluff from his collar, attempting to make himself ‘presentable’ in an effort to get some kind of control over himself. “And you’re right, I should have told him about your eyes, but if he’s going to give us a big system clean-and-polish when he comes back, we can wait until then. Right?”

Their gazes met in the glass again.

Moon closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “It’s probably just Mason being clumsy, nothing major. We’ll tell Phil once he’s back. Mrs. Mercer needs him more than we do right now.”

“Exactly!” Turning quickly, Sun moved away from the glass, no longer able to maintain a sense of ease while his brother stared back with the empty, gray eyes that didn’t belong to him. “Today’s list has something new on it–” Pausing, Sun raised a finger in thought. “I don’t know where they keep the disinfectant.”

“I hope it’s not behind the desk.”

“Me, too!” Set about to find the elusive chemicals, Sun didn’t dare to check the glass again. At first, he’d hoped he'd been wrong when they chatted after the patch update and he thought Moon’s eyes were off somehow, but then a worker commented on it.

“Why are his eyes gray?”

Thankfully, by some miracle, that tidbit hadn’t gotten back to Phil yet.

Not that it made it feel better in Sun’s coding when he was met with empty gray irises any time he used the glass or a mirrored surface to see his brother.

Moon’s eyes shouldn’t be gray, he told himself fretfully.

They should be yellow.

#security breach #robot #security breach au #sundrop #legacy au #moondrop #fnaf sb #garbagechocolate #truth virus au #truth virus #angst #this isn't going to be fun for anyone

21 notes · View notes

kimira-k · 3 months

Text

Chapter 138 (WHERE BACK BABBYY!!!)

My essay-long rants are back let's go!!!

It's been so long since we last got an update and as a comeback, (courtesy of Esol) this chapter has a lot to talk about.

But even though I have sooo much to say (I mean a lot) let's start from the beginning, shall we?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting with Yeownoo and Junhyuk in the hospital... The emotions that happened during were so intense

The tears!

The groveling!!

DID I MENTION THE GROVELING!!!

Now I'm going to be completely honest I was lowkey (Scratch that highkey) mad at Junhyuk for leaving Yeonwoo but I honestly understand that it was because he just wanted to pursue his passion. And even though I did get some enjoyment (a lot of enjoyment) from him apologizing for leaving Yeownoo that does not mean I'm not devastated that he broke his leg and can no longer pursue what he wants to do. That killed me. I'm not okay.

I was ready to throw my phone across the room when Yeonwoo started crying. That single panel of him just silently crying... I don't think I'm going to be okay for a while (that's a lie I'm living) the Angst in this chapter was so delicious.

I ate good. (Yummy)

Man! Don't even get me started on how Junhyuk is like "I swear I won't ever leave you again" I cannot be the only person who yelled LIAR!!! because that's exactly what he's doing right now! Smh.

Jokes aside the talk on the rooftop

The way Junhyuk shifts from I must hold that piece of trash accountable for what he did to my best friend to I will never let anybody find out what happened to my best friend. I was gagged.

The fact that in the beginning, Junhyuk was thinking what everybody is thinking currently as we read this "Tell someone! Anyone!! what happened to you!!!" shows you just how bad the situation is, and how he originally wasn't like this. Also bringing into light how their codependent really started right there. On the rooftop.

The look on Yeonwoo's face when Junhyuk told him that he knew what happened and that he wanted to tell his parents and file a school violence report...

That is honesty when it clicked for me just how bad everything is. Like previously it clicked but that look on his face tells me that Yeonwoo was never going to tell a single soul about what happened even if there was a guarantee that he would be fine.

Junhyuk only found out about what happened to Yeonwoo by pure chance. That's it. If he just had not walked into that classroom on that specific rainy day and look at the attendance sheet he would not have known a thing. (It's really got ideas going through my head about what would have happened if he just kept walking...)

Now to the main part of this entire chapter. The part that's been setting everybody on fire and making everybody want to sell their firstborn child for the chance to never have read this chapter in the first place.

The jumping threat.

Yeownoo's breakdown?! OMG!

I genuinely had to pause for an extended period of time. Because, the way I gasped when he pulled out that knife. I was screaming at my screen knowing damn well he can't hear me 'PUT THAT DOWN!!!'

(the fact that I read it like 30 minutes after it came out and it was like crack of dawn was not helpful)

Yeonwoo pulling out that knife and telling Junhyuk not to tell a single soul and that panel with his expression (you know the one I'm talking about) had me weak!

The utter desperation on his face and absolute fear of what happened to him being found out that really brings into consideration just how badly it affected him. Like I knew that what happened to him screwed up his mental state, but seeing just how desperate he was...

I'm going to have nightmares. I'm going to have nightmares just from that one panel alone. Plus all this happening behind a beautiful sunset is diabolical. Like a beautiful backdrop but a depressing scenario?! (I gotta take notes)

Esol really knows how to pull those angst punches, doesn't she?

What makes this worse is that throughout all of this, Junhyuk just wants to help his friend but ultimately ends up becoming complicit is so sad. Everything really accumulated here. Their codependency started here. On the rooftop of the hospital.

All junhyuk wants is to have Yeonwoo be safe. For him to be happy again but at the end of the day, he just couldn't do it.

And the way this ties back to Haesol and how he thinks only she can do that is just so smart yet so diabolical!!

One of my favorite parts is when Junhyuk is reaching out towards Yeonwoo!!!

That very panel was foreshadowed I don't know how many chapters before?!! I recognized it immediately and I was ecstatic but also shocked because I was speechless...

Originally I thought that panel was because when Yeonwoo found out what happened to Junhyuk's leg he fainted and Junhyuk caught him before he fell but the fact that this panel is because Junhyuk was trying to save Yeonwoo from killing himself? Oh my God, I don't know how but Esol is able to just take the angst and ramp it up in ways that I just cannot fathom.

GOD!

She is diabolical!!!

Then right after that, we get the look of increasing terror and petrification on Junhyuk's face when he realizes, this is serious. When he realizes that Yeonwoo is not okay to an EXTREME extent and if he does tell a single person what happened, Yeownoo is going to kill himself.

The flashback to the beginning of middle school when Yeonwoo was just smiling and happy. The flashback of his brother being irreparably damaged in a way that he cannot even begin to understand. The tears that come down his face when he pleads and begs and sobbs to Yeonwoo that-

"I'll do what you say! I won't say anything... just please, don't die."

OH, GOD!!!

Junhyuk pleading to Yeonwoo to not die is just so gut-wrenching it hurts so goooodd!!!

That is the most angsty we have gotten and I am here for more because I already know once this Arc is over it's going to get worse. (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

Here's the important part. The panel at the end where Yeonwoo is like I'm so sorry. The dead look in his eyes while the tears flow down his face... its so good and I automatically knew that this was a manipulation tactic.

Now don't take the word I use manipulation to be a bad thing because it's not.

Yeonwoo is simply doing what he thinks he needs to do for Junhyuk to not tell a single soul that he was assaulted. Especially his parents.

That is important his parents are a big reason why he's not telling anybody. After all the hardship his parents had to conceive him, them finding out that he was assaulted in middle school is going to break them. I sympathize with him. In all honesty, would you really want your parents to find out what happened to you especially after the circumstances of your birth were already so traumatizing for them?

Yeonwoo is just a teen doing what he thinks he must to keep from anyone knowing what happened. He said himself that he's too scared to kill himself so there's no way he would go through with it. This hit hard on my second reread when Yeonwoo mumbled "Is this a joke to you," kind of like he was thinking about what he'd have to do for Junhyuk to not tell his parents.

Jumping off the rooftop was his conclusion, and it worked.

Yeah.

The nuance in the layers is just so good.

Don't even get me started on how when this Arc of their friendship is over I already know that Haesol is next because of the little bits of foreshadowing we got that she was not happy with the current situation.

YEONSOL ANGST BABBYYY!!!

I'M GOING TO EAT THAT UP!!!!

Think about it. If you're boyfriend is going on and on for a week plus about how his best friend is not talking to him anymore and acting the way Yeonwoo is when you know that their relationship is not healthy. That the codependence that they exhibit towards each other is not okay. And instead of saying something about that you bottle it up.

Oohhh!!! I already know the angst between these two is going to go crazy.

Overall this chapter was great and the fact that this is the way that Esol decides to welcome us back is giving me the beginning of season 3 flashbacks because dear God that was not a time to be a Yeonwoo's Innocence fan. Ooohh. Pain and suffering.

There is so much more to talk about and I have so many more things to say but overall I loved this chapter and the way it foreshadows future things and also brings to light the previous foreshadowings that happened before it was absolutely amazing and I loved it and I'm going to go back and reread the manhwa for the umpteenth time so that I can catch every bit of foreshadowing that happened before and post that on my Twitter thread because that is insanity.

I love this chapter so much and to keep this from being any longer I'm going to stop it here.

Tell me what your guys's thoughts are in the comments because we need to talk about this!!!

This chapter was a bombshell and it was so good!

Absolutely devastating, but so good!!!

-Kimira

#yeonwoo's innocence #manhwa #romance #shoujo #shoujo manga #shoujo manhwa #josei #anime #manga #yeonsol #manhwa recommendation #chapter review

11 notes · View notes

opticfile · 7 months

Note

hello to my new bsf :D

what if, hypothetically, i asked for big brother! gilbert x gn! reader... in any style really but maybe hurt/comfort specifically... something fluffy and pure tbh, whatever you're feeling. thank youuuuu <333

✧ I LOVE IT i went a little more of a uh revenge route so i hope you dont mind!! also any emil slander is purely only for plot i love that boy

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // brief emil x reader for plot, rejection, comfort from gilbert in his own weird ass way, vandalism :3, short itty bitty lil drabble

“So,” You rest your chin in your palm as you lay on your side, eyeing up the boy in front of you. “What’cha gonna do on Saturday? I was thinking-”

“I’m going to the dance.” Emil responded, boredly, the light of his phone illuminating his face.

“Wait, huh?” You sat up a bit, “Emil Steilsson going to a school dance? You never go to those.”

“Alice asked me to go with her.”

“...You’re going to the dance with a date?” You scrunched your nose at the thought, “And with Alice? Doesn’t she get a new guy every few months-”

Emil looked at you awkwardly, “Look, if you have an issue with Alice, that’s on you.”

You frowned at the boy, sitting up in your bed and suddenly feeling a little more conscious about how you look, “Um, I don’t, it’s just…”

Emil looked at you expectantly, his eyes dull and mouth pulled into a line before your room’s door swung open to reveal your brother’s friend.

“Emil,” Matthias grinned, “We gotta head out, Lukas says its past your bedtime, kid.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Emil grumbled, “He acts like I’m 12.”

Emil stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking out of your room without a goodbye. You assume the dejection in your heart was also visible on your face because after Matthias slapped the back of Emil’s head, he glanced over with a concernedlook.

“You okay?”

“Yup, just tired.” You nodded.

“Alright, cya.”

Matthias shut the door and you heard his voice blend in with your brothers’ and with Emil’s. Emil’s, it was a hard pill to swallow that he was going on a date with some girl, even if your pining was kept behind closed doors and he probably only hung out with you because you were his brother’s friend’s little sibling and the older boys pushed him away from their activities. You were a little angry, actually, and a lot sad. Maybe it's better to get the rejection out of the way now instead of when it’s someone you're really in love with, right?

But… it still hurt.

And your nose still tickled with the urge to cry as you stood from your bed and took off your sweatshirt, which, actually, was just Emil’s old sweatshirt. You wanted to burn it but you also knew that was extreme. You wanted to laugh and cry and pull out your hair and commit violence, but mostly you just wanted this wave of emotions to be over.

A knock—one, two, three—rang out through your room.

You threw Emil’s sweater to your floor to be forgotten and cracked open the door, shoving your knee and head into the crack and scowling at the annoying albino in front of you.

“What do you want, Gil.”

“What happened to hello?” Gilbert snickered, “How are you?”

“You don’t get that.” You sneered, moving to close your door quickly before he shoved his foot in the crack, and when he did, you shut it harder.

“Hey, fucking chill,” Gilbert grimaced, “You’re so violent, what happened to the baby of the family?”

“Shut up, dude.” You rolled your eyes, attempting to push his foot out of the doorway, but alas, it was too late. He had his arm in the doorway and soon his entire body emerged through.

“So cruel.” Gilbert frowned, ruffling your hair as he looked around, “You should clean.”

“Don’t remind me, dickwad.” You took a jab at his ribcage.

“Jesus, this is even worse teenage angst than usual.” Gilbert rubbed his side, “Why is your favorite sweatshirt on the floor.”

“It’s not mine and it's not my favorite,” You crossed your arms, plopping down on the beanbag Emil resided on just ten minutes earlier.

“I know it’s Emil’s, but like, you wear it everywhere.” He kicked it under your bed and sat himself upon it.

For a few minutes, silence enveloped you both as you stared at your floor and Gilbert fiddled with some knick-knack he got off your side table.

“So what’s wrong?”

“What?” You glanced up to meet Gilbert, “Why would something be wrong.”

“You’re extra angsty and angry tonight.”

“Maybe it’s because someone barged into my room-”

“And Matthias said you looked sad when he grabbed Emil.”

You knew your brother. You knew what he was like when he was happy, when he was joking around or making fun of you, and when he was being serious and genuine. And now? You can't find an ounce of joking in his tone as he stares you down.

“I know you better than you think, kid.” Gilbert said, “I was around when you were little, too, and you acted just like this when something upset you. You’d throw your socks at me-”

A worn sock hit his face.

“...I see that hasn’t changed.” Gilbert snorted, “So talk to me, what’s wrong? Who do I need to punch?”

“...” You clenched your jaw, “Okay, but everything we discuss stays in this room and you never tell Matthias or any of your friends.”

“Deal.”

“So…” You bounced your knee, “Emil-”

“Knew it, I’m gonna beat his ass.” Gilbert stood from your bed with clear intent and you had to dive out of your seat to grab him because he was definitely going to follow through here.

“Hold on! No killing!” You pulled at him and he let you, falling back into the bed.

“What did that brat do?” Gilbert grumbled, arms crossed.

“Um… it’s not like he did anything to me or anything…” You frowned, “Actually, he didn’t really do anything wrong so it’s not a big deal-”

“Y/n,” Gilbert cut you off, “It doesn’t matter what he did, you are hurt. I cannot allow that.”

You pulled your legs up on the beanbag and took a deep, mildly shaky breath as emotions began flowing.

“I, um, I liked him and… uh… he’s going to the dance with someone else.”

“Are you kidding me?” Gilbert began.

‘It’s stupid, I know-’

“What a little prick.” He grumbled, “He’s always a dick to you, you deserve better.”

You frowned, “Don’t be mean to him, Gil-”

“I don’t care if you like him, it’s true, he barely acknowledges you.”

“Gil, stop it.”

“The only reason he even hangs out with you is because we won’t let him do shit with us-”

“I get it, okay.” You threw another sock at him, “I know I never had a chance but you don’t have to be a jerk about it, just go away, Gil…”

Gilbert stopped his rant as you sunk into your beanbag, turning your eyes away from him as they watered and breathing in that stuttery way you breathe when you cry. His hands dropped to his lap as he leaned forward.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I don’t care.” You turned even farther away from him, refusing to meet his face.

“I just mean he’s not worth anything, he’s a loser and always looks bored. You can do better, he didn't even deserve you talking to him, and he’s a jerk if he doesn't realize that.”

You frowned as you stayed statue-still in your chair, processing his words as his sentence finished and he sat in silence for a moment.

“Y/n, talk to me.” Gilbert frowned, inching over on your bed to reach you, placing his hand on your shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly. “I’m sorry.”

“...”

“I have an idea.” He spoke, mischief in his voice.

“Throw it like you’re throwing a baseball into his eye!” Gilbert shouted from the tree above you.

You launched the toilet paper roll in your hands at him, a trail of it fluttering in its wake before he caught it.

“That would be a black eye.” He whistled, wrapping the toilet paper in the branches and further vandalizing his best buddy’s front yard.

“I want to crack his skull open with a baseball bat!” You seethed, picking up another toilet paper roll.

“Holy, relax, I don’t make enough to get you a good lawyer.” Gilbert laughed obnoxiously.

You threw another roll over a branch, jogging over to retrieve the roll off of Emil’s family’s lawn and tossing it up again to get stuck in some twigs way up high.

Speaking of Emil’s family.

“What the hell are you doing?” Matthias shouted from his window on the second floor.

“Your brother is a prick,” Gilbert shouted back.

“Which one?”

“Emil, the little brat.” Gilbert sneered, pulling a spraypaint can out of his sweatshirt’s front pocket, “Broke Y/n’s heart.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell!” You shouted, throwing a roll into Gilbert’s head just for him to wave you off.

“Aw, really?” Matthias frowned, “I thought they were cute together.”

“Yeah well he’s going to the dance with a whore!” You shouted up, “I hope he gets STDs!”

Gilbert erupted in laughter and Matthias snorted, “I’ve never heard you say whore, man you’re getting older…”

Gilbert shook the paint can before Matthew stumbled over his words to object, something about it won't come off and Tino will have his head. But Gilbert, the daredevil he is, pressed down on the can and sprayed a bright red stripe into the trunk.

“Holy shit, you’re gonna die.” Matthias rubbed his head.

“He can come at me,” Gilbert continued spraying, “He’s lucky I don’t spray this directly on Emil!”

It was going to be hard to look Emil in the eye after this one.

✧ navigation.

#opticfile ✧༺࿐#hetalia #hetalia world series #aph hetalia #hetalia axis powers #aph prussia #hws prussia #older brother prussia #brother prussia #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph denmark #hws denmark

14 notes · View notes

anniemika · 2 years

Text

What Goes Around - Chapter 2

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Genre: Modern AU, Class Difference, Slow Burn, Angst, Smut, Fluff

Series Summary: Your life is what a lot of people would describe as their dream - constant parties, expensive gifts, fast cars, and money that can last you a lifetime. The facade is a pretty golden one, but underneath, the ugliness always threatens to crack, and you’re tired of trying to constantly prevent that from happening. That is why when you meet a certain 22-year old chauffeur, whose eyes can take all that tiredness away, you begin to re-evaluate every decision that has been made for you in your entire life.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, aggressive behavior, cheating, toxic relationships (family and other), cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of death, eating disorder, substance abuse, heavy drinking, trauma, casual sex, eventual smut (explicit sex; blowjob, handjob, cunnilingus, unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, dub-con, creampie, corruption, choking, praising)

.....

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Chapter summary: Getting ready for the party you’ve been dreading, an unpleasant surprise knocks on your door. Luckily, you’ve found something that brings you at least a tiny piece of happiness.

Words: 6.1k

.....

“Is it too much?”

You’re leaned against your patio chair, cigarette hanging from your mouth as you try to open the Dom Perignon bottle you’ve been struggling with for the last minute.

You glance at the new phone you bought after your old one stopped working because of the way you smashed it a couple of days ago, eyebrows raising questionably at the screen.

“No, looks.. great.”

FaceTiming you as she swirls around in her Versace silver dress, is your cousin, who’s showing you her whole outfit while trying not to break her legs on the 5 inch heels she has on.

“Really?”

You finally pop it open, immediately pouring the fuzzy liquid inside your champagne glass. You throw in a strawberry from the fruit platter, removing your cigarette so you can taste it. Then, your eyes land on your phone again, taking it into your hands and squinting so you can make out if the dress even covers her butt or not.

“You want the truth, Hisu?”

The blonde slowly turns around, awaiting your assessment.

“I think uncle’s gonna hate it.. and that’s exactly why you should wear it.”

You hear her giggling laugh as she pivots on her heel, taking another look in the mirror.

“Yeah, that’s true.” You watch as she does a little whirl, “What are you gonna wear?”

“Don’t know yet.”

At that, she dramatically gasps, grabbing her phone.

“What? The party’s, like, 10 hours from now!”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t worry little cus’, I won’t disappoint you.”

“Okay.” She returns to staring at her reflection, and you chuckle at her self-appreciation. “Oh, I just can’t wait for everyone to see me.”

“And see their jealous faces?”

“Exactly!” She almost jumps, and you can’t help but shake your head with a smile on your face.

“Okay, I gotta go, but please don’t be late Y/n!”

“You don’t be late.” You correct her, blowing a kiss as you hang up.

It’s your cousin’s Historia’s birthday today, the party you’ve been dreading ever since a few days ago when you had your little emotional breakdown. She’s been planning it for months, and you were sure that she wouldn’t talk to you for god knew how long at even the suggestion that you weren’t coming. It’s her 21st birthday after all, an event she and everyone else in your family have been waiting and talking about for the past year, and there was no way you were missing it. She was the little princess of the family, the one whose every whim was always being fulfilled, but you think that only made you love her more, because other than that, her heart was as pure as can be.

A push of your bedroom doors startles you, almost making you spill your champagne on yourself, when you hear someone entering the room. You don’t look back inside, having an idea who it might be. The only person who can barge in without so much as a heads up.

“Y/n?”

You roll your eyes. You were right, of course.

“I’m on the terrace.”

The sound of high heels comes closer and closer, the confidence in the steps only annoying you further. When the person stands in front of you with crossed arms, you’re left with no choice but to put on your usual fake smile.

“Hi, mom.”

“A bit early for drinking, isn’t it?” Your mother quirks an eyebrow, not acknowledging your greeting but you don’t flinch, only shrugging your shoulders in return.

“To each their own.”

She sighs. Her eyes concentrate on your cigarette, and you’d have to be blind to not catch the disappointment in her eyes, “There’s a big bouquet of roses for you downstairs. They’re from Reiner. He’s written you the sweetest card.”

You wince. Of course he’s send you flowers. And of course your impudent mother would read the card. You can only imagine the sugary lies he’s written, and how your mother ate them all up.

“Did he now?” Your voice quavers a bit, and unfortunately for you, your mother notices.

“He did. Are you mad at him for something again?” Her tone conveys accusation more so than concern but you’re not surprised. “You know, you should give him a break. He does everything for you, and it seems like you’re always unsatisfied. It’s making a bad impression.”

And now, you can’t not laugh. It’s bitter, tired, and just overall resentful, because how can someone be so blind? Someone who is supposed to be your pillar, who is supposed to understand you and care about you more than anyone else. Just pure, blind ignorance.

“Y/n, listen to me”, she begins, moving closer to where you’re sitting, “you’ve been together since forever. He’s like a son to us.” At that, your jaw ticks. “And, he’s going to take good care of you, and your future children. That’s the most important thing.”

There she goes again. “What the hell does that mean?” You snap. “Do I need to be taken care of? Are we dependent on him and his family or something? You’re talking absolute nonsense again.”

Your mother takes a deep breath, but doesn’t say anything. Which was weird. She always had something to say, and most times, it was directed towards you. But now, she’s just staying still, staring down at you.

“What?” You agitatedly ask.

“Make up with him. And grow up.” She demonstratively grabs the champagne bottle from the cooler and exits the terrace, the clanking from her heels the only sound left as you just stare at her in vexation. It’s become too typical these days, like you’ve always been this way with each other. Like that’s what your interactions mainly consisted of, back and forth bickering and passive aggressive comments thrown any chance there was.

It wasn’t always this way, though. It’s really sad how much you’ve grown apart over the last ten years. There was a time when she was your closest person, when you’d tell her everything and she’d treat you like her daughter, her actual daughter that she gave birth to and raised, always thinking about your best interest. That was, until you hit puberty and some things just changed. Correction, almost everythingchanged. Everyone started viewing you differently, including your own mother. And that came as more than a shock, the change in behaviour, the disapproving looks, the criticising comments that you never seemed to be able to swallow down because it was your mom. The person you looked up to more than anyone in your entire life. You looked up to her poise, her graciousness, the way she carried herself and always acquired everyone’s attention when she entered the room. The way she taught you to believe in yourself and never let anyone see you cry. The way she had kindness in her despite her strong appearance. It was so strange, one moment she was hugging you, laughing with you, sleeping in your room while you talked all night, and then the next, she became this cold, stand-offish person with all these high expectations for you and your future. You couldn’t confine in her anymore, because something just.. broke.

But you got used to it. When she’d tell you what to wear, who to hang out with, which people were yourpeople and how you should act around them, you obeyed. Until, you found out how freaking exhaustingthat was. She wouldn’t let you be yourself, and that made you close yourself off for other people. It made you paint a facade, one that was good for your family’s reputation, but never for you. And as time went by, it came to you as a reflex. You were all smiles in front of people, but behind closed doors, the frustrations of the lies written all over your life suffocated you. So, as time went by and you became older, you found your own ways to relieve the stress and anxiety. A couple of glasses before 12p.m, a few more to get you through the day when your jaw was hurting from all the fake smiling. You’d slip sometimes, especially on get togethers or parties when you had to be the most presentable but at some point you realized that you couldn’t care less. Then, of course, you’d quickly get reminded by none other than your mother that there were expectations to be held and opinions that mattered, so you’d once again paint your little mask, the same one you’d grown to hate so much.

It makes you laugh. It’s all a circus, you think. You’re supposed to marry Reiner Braun. The son of one of the most influential people not only in your city, but in the whole country. He’s the CEO of numerous big name companies, and his son, the golden child, is supposed to inherit them all. Their fortune is unimaginable, and your parents can’t possibly fathom the thought of you not wanting to marry him. You were rich, but they were untouchable. He was untouchable. All your life, his name has haunted you anywhere you go, almost as if yours doesn’t matter. Everyone associated you with him and that was the most information they cared about, along with your looks and the way you carried yourself. Those things were important. They were the most important.

So, when you decided that you were “in love with him” when you were 17, after being almost thrown into the relationship by your father and mother, your life got turned upside down. The prestiges high school you went to had kids from all sorts of wealthy families whose parents knew each other, and when you and Reiner got together, everyone knew. It was like they all became obsessed with your relationship, so much so rumours started circling around that you were going to get married right after high school. Neither you nor him wanted that, of course, because you were just two teenagers who wanted to fuck and party, not at all interested in the plans your parents had for your futures.

The first time you caught him with a girl, you lit your first cigarette. Everyone was gossiping about how unfaithful he was, how he’d always have a girl sitting on his lap at parties, how he’d have same girl spend the night in his room while sending you messages about how much he missed you. You didn’t believe he was a cheater at first, because maybe, just maybe you really were that in love with him and trusted him with your whole heart. Stupid, little, inexperienced you. You learned the hard way that relationships weren’t what they were portrayed like in books and movies. Especially when your boyfriend was the most wanted boy everywhere you went, and you had to fight for him like your life depended on it. You can’t even remember all the fights you’ve had with other girls over him, all the threatening texts you’ve send girls who tried to get with him, how many times you’ve had screaming matches with one another because he was lying to you. And all that, before you were even 18. Everything became much darker after that. But no one cared, really. So you just closed your mouth shut about it, and lived with the lies everyday until something inside of you cracked, and you gave up the thought of him ever being faithful to you. Or, you ever being happy with him.

It’s all a fucking circus. Another sigh fills the air, and you stare at the grey clouds overcasting the sky, wishing you could be anywhere else except here. It shouldn’t be hard to get a plane ticket for anywhere you want, just pack your things and leave. Not say a word to anyone, just disappear. But that’s not you. You don’t backdown when things get tough. You swallow your pride and show up.

.....

Eren is late.

He overslept for the second time this week, and he’s afraid it’s becoming a habit.

He rushes through the tiny hallway after almost falling off the couch, bursting through the bathroom door to grab his toothbrush and wash his teeth while making coffee in the kitchen. The damn alarm on his phone seems to not be enough to wake him up from his deep slumber anymore, and that’s enough confirmation for the fact that he truly feels exhausted. He curses under his breath, low enough so that only he can hear, and browses through what feel like thousands of kitchen drawers only to not find a single spoon in sight.

“Eren?” A soft voice is heard from somewhere in the apartment, the bit of concern the word’s filled with getting caught in his ear.

“I’ll be ready in a minute, mom!” He tries to remain cool and unfazed by the fact that the doctor’s appointment is in less than 20 minutes and he needs at least 15 to get there.

Idiot, he thinks. He’s the one who’s supposed to remember those things, to wake up on time, make breakfast, and then drive her there. He knows she’s too tired to do any of that, and after numerous fights about how she should rest and not help around the house anymore, she finally gave up and obliged. After finally winning over the stubbornness that was Carla Jaeger, he disappoints her by not having his shit together. Sleeping in late instead of helping her get ready. He probably scared her with all the thumping around too and she needed every ounce of peace and quiet she could get.

“Honey, it’s okay. Don’t rush yourself.” Her sweet tone does nothing to quench his anxiety because Eren was never one to relax so easily. Given the life he was living right now, it was understandable.

He runs all over the place with his toothbrush still hanging from his mouth, puts on the first shirt and pair of jeans he sees and quickly goes to his mother’s room to find her all ready with her bed made up and her nightgown neatly folded next to her pillow. She is dressed, purse ready in her hands with a taint of rosey lipstick colouring her lips. And even though her skin is so incredibly pale and her chocolate locks are falling off, to him, she still looks as beautiful as ever. Her eyes are still bright, still shining with the same warmth they’ve always held.

“Mom, I told you I’d help you make the room.”

Her pretty lips curve upwards, with a small hand waiving him off. “Nonsense! I’m not disabled, you know. And I don’t like how you fix the bed, anyway.” She sends him a wink, and somehow, he feels even worse.

“Let’s go.”

His legs start moving towards their apartment’s entrance, when he feels a gentle palm closing around his shoulder.

“Eren, honey?”

“Huh?”

“Your toothbrush’s still in your hand.”

.....

Black or white?

Short or long?

Exposed or covered?

Who gives a fuck, you think. The turmoil of emotions boiling inside of you can’t let you pinpoint your exact state of mind at the moment. Are you mad? Do you want to put on something provocative that’ll have everyone staring and just act like a bitch the entire night? Are you sad? Sad that you can’t even be happy it’s your favourite cousin’s birthday and you don’t have the energy to pick something pretty to wear and do your make up and hair properly? Or are you apathetic.. towards everything? You think that maybe it’s finally come to the latter, until you’re sitting with crossed arms on your silky sheets and a particular piece of garment catches your attention. It’s a long black dress, simple at the front, but it’s the back that makes you get up from your seat and reach to get it from the beautiful vintage clothes rack.

Butterfly wings are embroidered at the centre of the otherwise naked back, the detailed lacework prompting your fingers to go through the fabric in the gentlest of manners. The dress is beautiful. The feeling it gives you is reminiscent of what it feels like to see an ink-coloured butterfly land on a white rose - it’s mesmerising. You don’t remember when it was you bought it, or if you’ve ever worn it, but what you do know is that tonight, you’re wearing it. And even if all you wanted to do minutes before was crawl in your bed and sleep through the evening, feeling like you actually want to wear that dress is a start.

You’re starting to imagine what kind of hairstyle and make up would best suit the outfit, looking at your mirror with the dress pressed against your chest, when you suddenly remember something. Something that drives you to start looking around your room in a frantic manner, searching for your phone. When you finally find it underneath the hundreds of clothes scattered around the floor, you tap in your password and go to find the chauffeur app you booked from last time. Scrolling through the cars and drivers that the app provided to choose from, you’re beginning to panic slightly from the fact that you can’t find him. The boy with the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. It needed to be him.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips when you finally catch his name, seeing he isn’t occupied for the night. You tap the “Book” option as fast as possible, then quickly throw your phone back and get to work. Tonight was going to be a long night.

…..

“Eren?”

The waiting room’s as quiet as it’s ever been, with a nurse coming in and out of different rooms every now and then carrying a white notebook in her hands, calling the names of the next patients. Some take no more than five minutes, and those short visits are often of the ones who leave their doctor’s office with a big smile on their face. Eren knows that smile. He’s seen it many times before, and it always means one thing. The person’s cured. It might be an old man with his daughter’s hand wrapped around him, their victorious beaming evident to the other patients who wait for the same miracle to happen to them too. Or it might be a wife, who’s crying tears of joy as her husband does the same, their fingers intertwined together as they leave the hospital for what they probably hope would be their last time. Or it might be a mom, who’s kids are waiting for her outside, their little feet running towards her as she nods at them and grins, her smile speaking what they most want to hear.

And then, there are the long visits.

The ones full of dread and misery, the ones he tries to ignore when people’s cries echo through the hospital corridors, the same ones he too has experienced. No one can prepare you for the apologetic look a doctor gives when it’s concerning someone you love. It’s a sinking feeling of helplessness, sadness, and just pure and utter.. fear. A fear he doesn’t wish upon his worst enemy.

“Eren, honey?” Carla whispers her son’s name, concern painted on her pretty features as she watches him lost in thought. “Are you okay?”

He blinks twice, as if waking up from a terrible dream, then turns to face his mother’s worried face. “Yeah, mom. Sorry.”

She squeezes his arm gently and smiles, as if saying “we’re gonna be okay.” She knows not to say it out loud, though. They both know it isn’t something she could guarantee.

“Mrs. Jaeger? You can come in now.” The nurse points in the direction of the office they have to enter, with Eren’s heart beginning to pound rapidly before he gets up, his mother’s hand in his. He gulps, trying to ease his anxiousness because it’s not the first time he’s been here with her, but that doesn’t stop him from having literal panic attacks every time he is. He tries to walk, taking silent deep breaths as he thinks about what they’ll tell them this time, about how they’re going to be able to pay yet another expensive hospital bill, how they’re going to be able to afford all the medication, when suddenly, he feels a vibrating feeling inside his pocket. He’s still walking when he takes his phone out, the message displayed on it immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“You’ve been booked for 10 hours.”

…..

101 red roses. That’s the price of love.

Your Dior pumps clash against the marble tiles as you take step after step down the long stairwell leading to the entrance doors. The enormous bouquet is positioned on the little table set in the middle of the hall, gracing it with its beauty. The roses have just bloomed, you make a note of that, it’s like someone cut them just minutes before you stepped out of your room. They’re mesmerising, and still, that didn’t stop the sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach when you saw them sitting so prettily in the middle of your house. Yet another reminder of him. Like you needed any more of those.

For a moment, a thought enters your brain, one that you should probably ignore with every strength in your body, but of course, being the person that you are, you do the opposite. Instead of walking towards the doors that would get you out of this energy-draining place, you amble towards the tiny white envelope that’s positioned between some of the roses. You recognize the handwriting as if it’s your own, and with a silent breath, you pull a tiny, but visibly expensive, white cardboard card.

“To the most beautiful woman in the world, my strength, my dream. I love you.

Forever yours,

Reiner.”

Now, you’d expected many things to happen once you read the card. You thought you would rip it to shreds, ask for the bouquet to be thrown away, burn the whole thing, but no. The only thing that happened was your laugh echoing through the hall. Funny. There wasn’t one word of apology in this “letter of love”. Of course there wouldn’t be. That would mean him risking your parents’ opinions, and he couldn’t have that. He knew just the way to manipulate the situation in his favour and make you the ungrateful one. Because, as much as you could hate him, he knew you wouldn’t tell your parents the truth.

Ding

A notification sound breaks you from your stupor and makes you leave the card behind, instead searching for your phone inside your purse.

“Your car is here.”

Your heart trembles slightly when you read the message, and it’s just the weirdest sensation. What’s wrong with you, snap out of it. He’s just your driver. And, the prettiest boy you’ve ever met. Usually, you’d never feel nervous around anyone. But, you are only human, so you guess when you meet someone who’s as sweet as he’s handsome, it’s only natural.

“Miss Y/N, don’t you just look lovely!” Your butler, Dot Pixis, claps his hands together as he walks towards the golden hanger which holds your freshly ironed coat. “Might outshine the birthday girl.” He winks while you roll your eyes with amusement, making your way to him.

“You know miss, I couldn’t help but notice a dashing young gentleman waiting for you outside.”

“It’s the driver.” You mumble, looking at one of the dozen of mirrors positioned in front of you.

“Oh?” He raises a brow, and you can see his smirk in the mirror as he settles the soft faux fur around your shoulders, “You’ve met him before?”

“Pixis.” The look you give him only makes his smirk even wider.

“Lovely bouquet, by the way. Red roses. The epitome of love.” He talks through the process of buttoning your coat, his voice coated in sarcasm, “Shall I tell the staff to put them in the kitchens?”

“No.” Your answer is instantaneous, “That won’t be necessary.” God knows your mother would only get angry if you do that.

“Pity. Haven’t had rose jam in forever.” You chuckle lightly at his witty remarks, their cheekiness instantly making you feel better. Pixis had that about him, he always made jokes out of unpleasant situations, and he knew about yours well enough. Being the butler of your family ever since you were born, he had a soft spot for you. He watched you grow up, took care of you, made sure you were taught to act like an educated young lady. Also made sure to teach you not to take shit from anyone. He paid you more attention than your father ever did, that was for sure. And he disliked Reiner and his family immensely. Wouldn’t let it show, of course, that would mean him losing his job, but with you, he knew he could let his true feelings be known. He despised the fact Reiner didn’t respect you, because to him, you deserved every ounce of love and respect one could give. Sometimes, you feel lucky he doesn’t know all the things that have happened and how they’ve shaped you into something you know he wouldn’t approve of. His opinion mattered to you. It was one of the few that did.

“You’re all set, milady.” He distances himself far enough so you can take a look at yourself one last time before opening the entrance doors, his warm smile on display. “Now, you go have fun.”

“Thank you, Pixis.” You wave a goodbye at him before taking a step down the stairs leading to the black limo that’s parked right in front of them. The doors close, and you bite your inner lip, still not looking ahead in an attempt to not break your ankles on the 4 inch heels you’ve put on, when you hear distanced thumps that come closer as you go. You shoot your gaze upwards when your heel twitches and you lose your balance, quick hands catching you just in time.

“Are you alright?” A familiar voice rings in your ears, one that is a mixture of husky and just the right amount of sweet.

Eren. Your chauffeur.

He stands tall beside you, black suit fitting him like a glove, with his tag perfectly stitched on top of his blazer. The grip his hands have on your waist and arm isn’t hard, but it’s enough to keep you in place and not let you fall face first onto the cold stairs. Your heart’s beat is fast, the idea that you could’ve ripped your dress and screwed your whole night, and more importantly, completely embarrassed yourself in front of this boy, kept it pounding inside. But no, that didn’t happen. He was there to catch you.

“Yes. Thank you.” You breathe out, hissing slightly from the way you twisted your ankle.

“Are you sure? I was just about to ask if you needed any help.” God, he smells like the sandalwood candles you light in your bathroom. You love that smell.

“I guess I do.” You laugh at yourself, still not looking up at him. You didn’t need to have a heart attack at this moment.

The boy doesn’t say anything after that. He just helps you straighten your back, then offers his hand as a means to lead you down the stairs. Your eyes linger down at your feet, watching the way his make the first step, with you following right after.

One thing you notice about him is that he’s warm. Definitely runs warmer than most people, because it’s the middle of January, and his hand feels like wrapping your fingers around a warm cup of tea. It’s comforting given you’re wearing a dress with a non-existing back, the coat covering it doing almost nothing to stop the cold from spreading goosebumps all over your body.

When you take the last step, you feel it’s appropriate to finally look at him, lips pursing into a smile. “Thanks.”

The boy visibly stiffens, and you don’t know if it’s from the bruising air or something else, but his cheeks are tainted with a dark pink colour.

“Of course.” He smiles right back, and oh, it should be a crime for someone to be that good-looking.

He opens the car door and you’re quick to get in, sitting comfortably on the leather seat.

“You have the address?” You ask as he too gets in the car, the engine’s roar being heard from outside.

“Right here.” He points to the gps system that shows the path from your house to the VIP restaurant in the centre of town which your uncle reserved for the whole evening.

“Let’s go then.”

And with a nod of his head, you take off. You pass your guard, the gates, and soon, you’re on the main road. There’s low music sounding from the stereo of the car, but other than that, it’s quiet. Too quiet. You didn’t know what to expect, and still, it feels kind of awkward. You’re not sure if it’s only this way for you, but starting a conversation about what you’ve wanted to tell him and the reason why you wanted him to be your chauffeur for the night doesn’t come so easily. It’s a touchy subject, after all.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?” You glance at the rear view mirror to see him already looking back at you. When your eyes meet, he quickly moves them away.

“I wanted to thank you for.. for the tip you left me last time. You didn’t have to do that.”

Your lips part in surprise for a moment, not expecting him to bring it up at all. You should have though, it was a pretty hefty sum you left him last time. He’s probably never gotten that much from anyone before.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to. You’re one of the best drivers I’ve booked.” You try to sound as convincing as you can, even though you both know that’s not the reason why you did it.

He stays silent for a moment, but then with a sincerity you can only describe as the most genuine anyone’s ever spoken to you with, he says, “Thank you. It really meant a lot.”

You feel a warmth inside your chest, a feeling you’ve forgotten. It’s nice, and it feels like it matters.

Doing things that matter feels nice.

“You’re welcome, Eren.” You’re just about to continue with the conversation, feeling it’s an appropriate time given the theme, when your phone begins ringing. You sigh, taking a deep breath when you see it’s your mother.

“Hey. I just left the house. Well, I’m sorry. I’ll be there on time. Everything’s ready, right? She doesn’t suspect anything? Okay, see you in a bit.” You quickly hang up, the thought that you’re going to see himin a bit dawning on you. It starts to creep up, the feeling of anger and animosity that no matter how much you try, you never seem to be able to quench.

“Someone’s birthday?”

For a moment you’re confused, thoughts still lingering on the inevitable encounter you’ll be facing later in the night.

“Sorry, I’m doing it again-“

“My cousin’s.” Your voice interrupts the supposed “intrusion” the boy feels he’s made. You were a bit of a bitch a couple of days ago when he was just trying to be nice, so it’s understandable that he feels like he’s crossed a boundary. Chauffeurs don’t usually speak to clients in such a relaxed manner, either. But with him, it’s different. You don’t mind it at all.

“She’s turning 21 and it’s a big deal.” You continue, eyes staring down at your phone, looking at a picture one of your family members sent you of the big present you’re all going to gift her. You chortle when you see how pompous it all is, pink balloons and giant ribbons scattered all over it.

“We’re gifting her a pink Range Rover.” Special edition, at that. The way you said it was as if expecting him to confirm how stupid it sounds, but he only moves his eyes to catch yours in the mirror. Of course, you can't expect him to say it, but the proof from how confused they are is enough. “Yeah, I know, it’s ridiculous. She’s so spoiled.” You shake your head and let out a lighthearted laugh, although you know just how absurd it all is.

Even though you grew up rich, you never liked ostentations. You weren't the sort of kid who would brag about what they had, simply because you didn't like it when other kids did it. You couldn’t understand how they showed off with things they didn’t contribute in getting whatsoever, and the idea of making other people feel like they’re lesser than never appealed to you.

And here you are, in a car with a boy whose mother is sick, and he probably works for hours on end to try and help her get better.

“How’s your mom?” You finally ask.

“Oh, she's.. good. Takes her meds, goes to chemo every day.”

“That’s good.” You say as Eren stops at a red light, and you think that now’s the perfect time, so you reach inside your purse to pull a tiny card with a number and a name written on it, “I, uh.. I don’t know how appropriate this is, but I kind of took it upon myself and talked to one of my father’s friends who owns a clinic. If you ever need another opinion, you can always go there. They won’t charge you anything.”

You extend your hand out with the card between your fingers, and the boy slowly turns around to get it. His lips are parted, eyes shocked as he stares at the name displayed on it. It's one of the best doctors in the whole country, a person who's been interviewed numerous times because of his knowledge. He was famous, but he had a reason to be, so being a close friend of your father, you had no issues contacting him.

“You’re very kind, miss. I don’t know how to repay all this-“

“Don’t mention it, okay?” You quickly interrupt him, not wanting him to think for a second that he should be of any service to you because of this. “Just tell me if you ever need help.”

You can see he wants to say something in return, but before he can, the light goes green and after a few seconds, you can see the restaurant’s flashy lights and the people, who you presume are all guests, entering with all sorts of expensive vehicles parked at the front.

“It’s here.” You point to a spot right before the big commotion, not wanting to bump into all those people who are very likely to be acquainted with you. When Eren stops the car, you’re quick to gather your things and exit it, when, just like last time, he beats you to it. He helps you out, visibly trying to be careful not to step on your shoes, while you put your phone inside your purse and check if you’ve got everything important with you. When you do, you take a quick breath before looking past Eren and into the building you’re about to enter. Nothing to worry about. You’ve got this. Bringing your stare back on the boy, you cast him a quick smile.

“I’m not sure if I’ll need you later, so you can just go home.”

Two big eyebrows furrow as you watch his perplexed face, those plump lips of his opening and closing as if they want to protest but can’t find the proper words to.

“But- you booked me for the whole night.” Which meant, you had to pay him for the whole night.

“I know.” The deliberate look on your face tells him you’d planned this from the moment you tapped on the app and chose him to be your driver for the night. “Go get some rest.”

There they are. The jewels he has for eyes. They’re so big, every emotion written in them. The surprise, the gratitude, everything. And they warm your heart.

“Well, my phone’s in the system, so if you need me, call me any time.” He emphasize the last part, and you want to chuckle at how cute he is. “Please.”

Tilting your head, you watch him under your big lashes, thinking about something to tease him with, but when you see how sincere his face is, with a look that says he feels like he’s doing something bad when that’s not the truth at all, ultimately, you decide to let it go. “Alright. You go now.”

With a clank of your heels, you pass by the tall boy, faintly hearing him say:

“Have a nice night, miss.”

Well, you’ll at least try, right?

…..

Hi! So this chapter is something of an introduction to the story, like, context of y/n’s life and where she’s at the moment. There are also crumbs of Eren’s life, which we’ll get into in the upcoming chapters. I kinda based off Historia’s character off of her school castes persona, and I think she’s pretty cute, although a little bimbo-y. So yeah, I’ll try to post new chapters every two weeks. Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list, muah and bye💋

Tag list:

@princess-jaeger @leave-rae-alone @littlemochi @udeens @aengelren

#Eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #Eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren #eren smut #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff

146 notes · View notes

mostlymaudlin · 1 year

Note

Fic writer asks! 💝🪄

thx for the ask!

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

it sounds cocky but i usually know how things will generally go when i post -- only because im seeking something specific haha. HOWEVER, i wrote giddy up as a total joke. its first person POV of a very silly scene that gets a one-line mention in AFTG. and as you know, im p comfortable in first person bc its our love language in the Simon Snow world! but AFTG people were shook that they were enjoying first person, and i was surprised by how much people got into the fic. once again, my attempts at pure crack fic were unsuccessful. i gotta stop sprinkling angst in there LOL

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

i almost always post right before i go to bed, so that i can't mill around and wait for that first hit/kudos/comment! im lucky, ive got quite a few subscribers that are a like 6+ hours ahead of me, and a couple ppl have usually dropped some feedback by the time i wake up <3

i usually read whatever i posted the next day, too. and i ban myself from editing it lol. i think thats a celebration -- im reading it as others would, and trying to enjoy it the way i want people to. esp bc i usually write things bc i want them to exist, so it should be a good time for me to read it!

#my writing

6 notes · View notes

lucifers-writing · 4 months

Text

Original blog (pls check this one out too): @coven-of-cards

Hey, this is a writing blog for the host of the Coven of Cards System, I encourage you to read all of this before requesting or checking out the blog please!!

Fandoms I will write for

- Miyagi-Verse (all movies + cobra Kai)

- Star Wars

- The Outsiders

- Original pieces (own stories off the top of my head or book ideas I have planned out)

- Pokémon (I’ll try my best lol)

- Marvel/DC (not as much but I’ll try)

———————————————

Boundaries

Things I will, won’t, and will maybe write (This is for all my fics in general)

👍

- Fluff. OMG I LIVE FOR FLUFF. I LOVE JUST READING WHOLESOME STUFF ITS SO CUTE AND MAKES ME SO HAPPY. If u have a fluff request PLEASE drop a comment or send ur requests in my ask box! I love hearing your ideas!

- Angst. I love angst just as much as I love fluff! We gotta make the readers cry sometimes, that’s life. Just like with fluff, if u have an angst request, please drop a comment! Remember, this includes violence, major/minor character death, etc

- DIVERSITY. LIVE LAUGH LOVE DIVERSITY!!! POC characters? Bet, just don’t change the characters ethnicity or race! I will never make a character a different race than they actually are (example I won’t make a black character white or vise versa) but if a character doesn’t have a canon race and their race isn’t obvious, I will do my research! Queer characters? OMG YES!! Again, I won’t change a character’s canon sexuality. But if a character doesn’t have a canon sexuality, I’m willing to experiment! I have no problem headcanoning a character as bisexual. But (example) I won’t make a lesbian character bisexual for a story just bc someone asked me to. I find that to be disrespectful. I also will definitely have characters that are neurodivergent. As someone who is neurodivergent, I find it hard to find stories with a Y/N who rlly shows what anxiety feels like, or any mental disorder for that matter. So if you want to request a character who is neurodivergent, I’m all for it! I’ve always headcanoned Tommy (karate kid) to have ADHD and Jimmy (karate kid) to have social anxiety. If you request a certain mental disorder I don’t know much about, I will research the disorder first so it may take a little longer than usual! Anyways, I’m all for diversity and will have lots of diverse OCs and if requested, Y/N stories too!

- Ships!! Both platonic and romantic. I will not ship real people like actors though. I’m also all for writing abt ships that aren’t my own, again, love diversity! I personally don’t ship Lawrusso(karate kid) that much but I think they’re hella adorable and would love to write a Lawrusso fic in the future. Also, again, just bc I love diversity doesn’t mean I won’t write about heterosexual couples too. You ship Tommy and Susan and are struggling to find a fic abt them? I gotchu! It’s not a crime to like a ship that is not queer!

- A lil bit of spice. A little make out session will always be okay with me. I will only write the kissing, anything beyond that is considered smut in my eyes. So if u want a lil kissing then that’s alr. Kissing in general will always be okay with me, kissing in general falls under the fluff section. Making out has its own section.

- Crack fics. Another type of writing I love is comedy. I’ll write stories purely just about a group chat of people doing stupid shit. Or incorrect quotes bc you have to love those.

- Alcohol/drugs/smoking. News flash, most of my stories are gonna be karate kid/cobra Kai/the outsiders themed. Or just 80s movies and general. And guess what? During those movies everyone is smoking and drinking and having a whiff of cocaine once in a while. I’m not uncomfortable with writing about this type of stuff, but if you are remember I will always read back and add trigger warnings.

- Other alternate universes. Uhm, we need these! I love doing the occasional soulmate AU or a fantasy realm AU! It’s just such a fun way to add a little twist to the stories. If you want a crossover, it depends on if I’ve seen the movies or not but I’ll try my best.

- Gore. There are times I will write it and times I won’t. If it’s gore to get off, absolutely not. If it’s gore for angst, yes. If it’s gore for a horror story, yes. If it’s gore because I’m writing a fanfic/ one shot of a fandom that involves a lot of violence (examples are movies Star Wars), yes. Fantasy, yes. I will not write gore for you to get your rocks off or just to take pleasure in because that makes me uncomfortable. If gore is written, it is strictly for angst, horror, fantasy, etc.

- Headcanons for characters. I’ll do headcanons for characters, readers (as long as the request has enough info about the specific reader to do so), and same with OCs. Also, if requesting headcanons for a certain reader and your boundaries are different than mine (example not okay with kissing, PDA, etc) then tell me, and don’t be ashamed to tell me.

———————————————

Maybes

- Smut. This is definitely more on the no side. I’ve never written smut but like, it’s whatever the reader wants. I’ll try my best. Lists of things I won’t write in smut will be in the ‘no’ section. Anything on smut that’s a maybe will be on here, obviously. Also the smut will not be detailed, and will most likely just hint at it so pls don’t get your hopes up.

- Requests. It sounds bad at first but let me explain. If you comment a request once and wait, I will try my best to do it! Keep in mind I am busy and have a life outside of social media. But I won’t accept a request if it breaks my boundaries or you spam my comments with a certain request. If you do the first one, I’ll remind you to read my boundaries before requesting and if you continue to disrespect my boundaries, I’ll block you and you can’t read my stories. As for the second one, I’ll simply ignore you and if that doesn’t work I’ll block you. So don’t do those two things please.

- x female reader. I’m sorry to say this (truth hurts) but female readers have 50x the amount of writing content than male readers have. I can’t find a single Star Wars x male reader fic, can’t find a single Karate kid x male reader fic without smut that I haven’t written myself, and it sucks. And if it is a male reader, it’s usually a heterosexual couple. Nothing wrong with heterosexual couples, but queer male readers exist too. So I will only rarely write content for female readers. If it’s a WLW ship, then of course I’ll write than for you. But heterosexual ships are simply not my specialty.

———————————————

🚫

- Pro-shipping. Any pro-shippers are not allowed on any of my blogs. If I find out you’re a pro-shipper, you’re getting blocked.

- Zoophilia. Y’all are weird.

- Rape, dub-con, and non-con. All of these make me very uncomfortable and will simply never be written. Call me boring, call me rude, but I don’t think it’s healthy to get off to rape. This is a safe space page and will stay that way.

- Pedophilia or large age gaps. I think this explains itself. No minor x adult, no large age gaps (4-5 years is my limit. Nothing over that. And 4-5 is still on thin ice.)

- Omegaverse. It simply makes me uncomfortable. Anything to do with breeding makes me uncomfortable. So I’m sorry but if you’re into that, you won’t be getting it here.

- Kinks I will never write: CNC, scat, piss, spit, extreme choking, slapping/spanking, any form of hitting basically, pet play, age play (age regression does not count), whipping, rimming (I know a lot of people r gonna get annoyed at that but I just hate it. Any form of eating someone out makes me very uncomfortable.) These all make me uncomfortable and there are no ways to wiggle around them.

- Kinks I will add trigger warnings for: Extreme BDSM, any form of gags or covering the mouth, slight choking (even just a hand resting over the neck. This does not include someone lovingly holding the side of the neck), finger sucking, religious kinks as long as it’s respectful, (and usually I’ll add a warning for just the smut itself but these are specific kinks I will point out), degrading, uses of the safe word, inappropriate use of the force. And after smut I will ALWAYS WRITE AFTERCARE BC AFTERCARE IS SEXY ASF.

- Full on smut. The closest thing to smut you’re ever going to get on this page are hints that it happened, suggestive language, making out, and skipping the action but knowing that’s what happened. I’m leaving the smut to your imagination but I will never write it full on.

I am begging you on my hands and knees to KEEP YOUR REQUESTS INSIDE MY BOUNDARIES.

———————————————

Characters I will write for

Star Wars:

Also note, the reason a lot of Luke and Leia’s stories will be kinda tied together is because they are twins, we don’t do incest on this blog

- Luke Skywalker (PLEASE HE’S MY FAVORITE PLS REQUEST FOR HIM I LOVE HIM)

- Sith!Luke Skywalker (unpopular opinion but Sith Luke is such a cool idea)

- Farmboy!Luke Skywalker (can you tell I like Luke Skywalker?)

- Mechanic!Luke Skywalker (you can can’t you?)

- Literally any other AU!Luke Skywalker (send requests NOW /nf)

- Leia Organa (she was my bi awakening)

- Farmer!Leia Organa (ESPECIALLY if it’s Luke being a prince instead of a farmer, but I’ll make them both farmers too because both are cool ideas)

- Sith!Leia Organa (especially if Luke is also a Sith, but him as a Jedi instead is also accepted)

- Royal AU!Leia Organa (where both her and Luke are royals/political figures, but Luke can just be a regular farmer too if you want)

- Literally any other AU!Leia Organa (send requests within my boundaries)

- Han Solo (I thought he was kinda mean when I was 4 but like, 🤷)

- Request AU’s for Han Solo bc I don’t have much for him

- Chewie, Yoda, etc and all must be platonic/family

- Poe Dameron, request AUs

- Finn (FN-2187)

- Stormtrooper!Finn (omg imagine if the reader is a general or a rebel?! I’m giving you guys ideas)

- Actually rebel!Finn (where he was actually a rebel and didn’t lie about it lol)

- Just gonna say now if you have any other AU’S about characters besides ones I’ve listed just request

- Din Djarin (I think that’s how you spell it?)

- Sith!Din (read a fic like this once)

- Regular dude!Din Djarin (where he’s not a mandolorian)

- Kylo Ren (I want to boop his nose)

- Jedi!Kylo Ren (this was a cool concept in my head)

- Padawan!Kylo Ren (could be training under Luke still, training under the reader, just giving ideas)

- Ben Solo (yes they will be different, Ben Solo will be used if he’s just a regular guy and Kylo Ren is for any Jedi or Sith AUs)

- OCs x reader (OC must belong to the reader or have permission from the person owning the OC)

- General Hux

- Anything else, send requests

The Outsiders

(For this I’ll be more strict because most of these characters are minors)

- Ponyboy Curtis (ONLY MINORS AND NO SMUT)

- Johnny Cade (ONLY MINORS AND NO SMUT)

- Dallas Winston (I think he’s 17 so 16+ only and no smut)

- Two-Bit Matthews

- Darry Curtis

- Sodapop Curtis (16-17 only and no smut)

- Bob Sheldon (I think he is 18?)

- Cherry (16 and no smut)

- Marcia

- Randy

Request AUs

———————————————

Any other fandoms, I’ll write for any character and rules still apply. No proshipping here.

#the outsiders #karate kid #kk1 #kk #Star Wars

1 note · View note

furiosophie · 3 years

Text

DINLUKE F1 AU

ok so I had this in my notes for fucking ages so fuck it here we go

inspired by @ehi7backup incredible art [look at it here]

TW: Luke lost his hand in a crash, Luke has ptsd Luke is the new hotshot star driver for Ferrari, Anakin was the best F1 pilot the world has ever seen, but after a horrid crash, he had to stop. Now his kids step up, Luke as driver and Leia as team principal (tho ppl say she could have surpassed Luke as a driver). Wedge is his co-pilot or Mara idk.

Luke's first season was incredible but he got into a horrible crash and lost his hand and now everyone is very skeptical if he can make his comeback this season. The team is under pressure anyways bc ppl say there is a curse on them since Anakin also had a horrid crash, you know Skywalker fuckery.

Din drives for Red Bull, tho they are referred to by some as the death watch, drawing suspicions with their weird training regiments. The Armorer is the team principal and Boba is Din's copilot. Din never takes his helmet off, mostly bc he rly just got into racing bc it's the only thing he was ever good at and he just wants to care for his kid and be left alone.

Bo-Katan is on Toro Rosso, and fucking hates Din's guts bc she used to drive for Red Bull but got knocked down to Toro Rosso last season so Din could have her spot (Din is oblivious to that rivalry). Koska is her copilot. Satine is the team principal and she and Bo never see eye to eye. Also, Satine has a weird history with that old dude that hangs around Ferrari all the time it's Obi-Wan.

Han and Chewie are in one of those weird teams that keep changing their sponsor and team name all the time so they are just known by the name Han lovingly gave his car, the Millennium Falcon. Lando is somehow their team principal even though no one knows where the heck he came from.

Then there is Mercedes with Gideon as team principal and Maul and ikd Ventress or someone as their drivers (nothing against Mercedes it just has to be one of the top teams u know for the drama).

Palpatine is the slimy old dude that has some shady money and hangs around like a menacing presence. He keeps trying to recruit Luke for one thing or the other and Anakin fucking hates his guts.

Cobb and Fennec are Ferraris and Red Bulls head mechanics respectively and always share the hot gossip. Obi-Wan, who blames himself for Anakin's accident, floats around like a weird ghost and occasionally offers strange advice. There is also Ashoka who was one of the most promising drivers and used to drive with Anakin but then shit happened and she noped out.

ANYWAYS Luke has always been curious about the gruff Red Bull driver who never takes his helmet off and they have a lot of run-ins, where ppl tell Luke to stay away but he's just so intrigued. And then one night he exists his trailer and wants to get away from the attention for one night bc he's already fighting a panic attack and runs into Din with Grogu on his arm who is fleeing as well. And Luke, bless him, does not connect the fact that Din and the mysterious driver are the same person, he just sees a hot dad and is head over heels.

And Din is nice and he is gentle and funny and knows how to talk Luke out of a panic attack and it becomes somewhat of a habit for them to meet up after races and they low-key start to date all while Luke has no clue who Din is bc he only ever introduced himself as Din, but on the track they are all called by their last name so---

Well you guessed it, Luke's season is actually going fucking great, so he and Din end up being pegged as rivals and it's blown up real big and Luke doesn't mind bc it's all in good fun, but what he does mind is that Djarin is suddenly always a bit too close to him when they are standing in line to be weight? Or their hands will brush when they pass each other in the hallway?? And he'll always somehow magically be around when Luke is about to have a panic attack and he does this thing where he leans their helmets together when Luke is freaking out and look it's all rly nice and lovely and he appreciates it so much, but also he has this rly nice thing going with Din and ppl are starting to talk and he doesn't want Din to think he is dating someone else but also he's getting kinda attached to Djarin and his rly soothing voice and oh gosh

But yea anyways there are so many possibilities like

it was actually Din who pulled Luke out of the wreck when he had his accident, Luke doesn't remember bc he was out cold

news articles and tweets and stuff that talk about Skywalker's and Djarin's rivalry that eventually morph into talking about them having a secret affair

Leia telling Luke over coms to come in for a tire change and Luke absolutely refusing bc Djarin is hot on his heels and he can't lose to him while Din is watching the race

Din telling Luke he can always call him and he'll always be there, except during races and Luke is high-key sad about that bc he would love to talk to Din before the race bc he's anxious but he respects Din's boundaries etc. BUT THE REASON DIN IS UNAVAILABLE IS BC HE'S IN THE DAMN RACE

eventual shit going down when they discover that Palp is cheating or some shit

Leia absolutely losing it when she finds out Luke thinks Din and Djarin are two different people

Han

#I haven't watched last season idk if any of this makes sense anymore #but yea fuck it this is just for vibes #this is mostly based on the fact that drive to survive has sport anime vibes #dinluke #dinluke modern au #I wanted this to be pure crack but you know gotta have the angst #dinluke F1 Au

148 notes · View notes

cuziloveyou7 · 3 years

Text

This or That: Fanfic Edition

Tagged by @randombtsprincessa! Thank you! And sorry for the delay hehehehe😅

Rules: bold what you prefer & tag people (or don’t)

coffee shop or flower shop • alternate universe or fix-it • enemies to lovers or childhood friends • angst or fluff • love at first sight or pining • modern au or historical au • soulmates or unrequited • fake dating or secret dating • breakup and makeup or proposals and weddings • get together or established relationship • oblivious pining or domestic fluff • hurt/comfort or crack • meet the parent or meet cute

Tagging: @feathertayyl, @thatonedumbdonut, @kimtaehyung84, @cris1984love, @666seokie, @ssugadaddyy, @http-je0n, @oheyura and anyone who wants to!!

#I was looking through my followers and saw I got a whole new bunch of you lovely people #thank you so much #uwu #anywayssss i didn't want this post to be super long so now #here comes the explanation #although i love flowers.. A LOT.. i think a coffee shop is a classic #AU's are the shit you can't tell me otherwise... I also really love fantasy #i am so impatient yall even tough i think childhood friends is adorable i'm impatient that shit shouldve happened ages ago...#I cannot handle angst.. i try though but i am one whole angsty AF person so yeah no id rather read fluff.. makes me squeel #I want to have love at first sight in real life but for fics I gotta have that pining makes a story so interesting #I still read love at first sight tho.. bc its cute and soft hours #HISTORICAL im a huge nerd/geek call it what you will I love history #soulmates bc unrequited screams angst to my and my poor heart cant #fake dating purely bc it's juicy and its great when their feelings for each other start acting uo #Is this a question? I LOVE WEDDINGS... YOU ALREADY KNOW I HAVE A FULL ASS PINTERST BORD #get together bc i love the stories before they get together #domestic fluff bc it makes me squeel and.... oblivious pining is my life so no thank you i already experience it on a daily...#CRACK!!! Get me wheezing at 2 am yall I LOVE IT! makes my mom and neighbours crazy but IDGAF #Meet cute... i get anxious thinking about meeting parents hihihihi #tagged games #CuzILoveYou7 #I changed my banner hehehehe did u c it

1 note · View note

xrmywaifxx · 2 years

Text

Haikyuu Captains Ignoring Their s/o Prank

Daichi x gn! reader, Oikawa x gn! reader, Kuroo x gn! reader, Ushijima x gn! reader, Bokuto x gn! reader, Kita x gn! reader

a/n: this was a request from my friend, hope you enjoy!! my reqs are open so feel free to request!

genre: crack, fluff, mild angst(???)

warnings: crappy writing lol, use of pet names (is that even a tw)

Daichi

listen.. we all know Suga put him up to this.

you came home to a silent house, and called out for Daichi only to be met with crickets.

you found him sitting on your shared bed and he gave you a small nod before returning to whatever was on his phone.

which, in fact, was nothing as he was to uneasy over your reaction to the prank to focus on anything else.

this was very unusual, differing from the big bear hug he normally tackles you into whenever you come home.

you are worried something is wrong so you call his name again, he doesn’t even turn his head.

”did I do something that hurt your feelings??” you are met with silence.

”can you tell me what’s wrong???” he pauses before shaking his head, “alright”, you respond, “I’ll go start on dinner”

you gave him a small kiss on the top if his head as you left

you were worried, nothing like this had ever happened before. as you prepared the food you slowly replayed everything you had done in the last three days

trying to find what might have upset him

Daichi felt horrible

the pure sadness and worry in your eyes as you left struck him in a way he had never felt before.

he was worried he had gone too far, worried he had exceeded the limits of your boundaries

as he slowly entered the kitchen, he saw you leaning on you countertop with your head in your hands

”y/n?” he says

you turn around startled only to find your boyfriend of two years looking at you with worrisome eyes.

”yes?” you answer, slightly annoyed that he won’t tell you what’s going on.

”I- I’m sorry”, he blurts out, “it was a prank, I’m sorry.”

you breathed an inward sigh of relief

your few seconds of silence felt like years to Daichi “y/n-” “heh”

wait were.. were you….. laughing??

you suddenly started giggling uncontrollably against the cabinets

Daichi was at a loss for words

weren’t you mad?? weren’t you gonna yell at him and tell him not to do that again???

and yet there you were, wheezing against the kitchen island.

”y/n…”, the brown haired captain managed to say

you turned to him with your smile that always made the sun look dim in comparison

“you’re funny Daichi”, you said,“but don’t do that again, you really scared me for a minute.”

”I wont I promise”, he mutters as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

Oikawa

this little- ok so

he probably saw it on social media and thought it would be funny to try it on you

you come home expecting your boyfriend to still be at practice,, and your predictions were correct.

you two hadn’t had a date night in a while, and you thought that tonight would be a good night for it.

you made his favorite dinner, + milkbread for after, and decorated the place a bit, making it a bit more cozy.

as you are finishing up the food, you hear the front door open

you run out, expecting him to open his arms wide and embrace you as usual.

mans literally just walks past you without saying a word (don’t think you gotta be that harsh about it Toru, smh)

you are a little hurt but assume he just had a bad day

you go up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist “bad day?” you ask

he doesn’t answer, you assume something is definitely wrong but little do you know he is dying on the inside

he wasn’t expecting you to go to all this trouble of making the house look nice, and making his favorite food

he wants to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he appreciates you, but he knows that it’s too late to back out of the prank now

without saying another word he walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him

10 minutes later you don’t hear anymore noise coming from the room and assume he went to bed

disappointed, you put the food away, and decide to turn in yourself

however, when you open the door you hear a thud on the other side

you hear an “ouch” and quickly open the door the rest of the way to find your boyfriend laying on the floor rubbing his head.

“Toru!!”, you yell, “are you ok???”

”yea I’m fine”, he painfully mutters before sitting up and continuing to rub his head.

”what were you doing behind the door??” you ask

”um well..”, he stutters

he looks down and let’s his breathing steady before he continues “I was waiting for you… I felt bad because of how rude I was before.. forgive me??”

you let out a soft smile “there’s nothing to forgive Toru”

his face lit up and he hugged you close, “now, about that milkbread”

you laughed, “I love you, you dork”

“I love you more”

Kuroo

he thinks hes so funny

little does he know you have a few tricks up your own sleeve

he comes home to see you sitting on the couch watching television

you stand up and walk over to him,“Hey Tetsu, how was your day?”

he doesn’t answer and instead walks past you and goes into the bathroom, starting the shower

you are worried he might’ve had something happen at practice so you wait for him to come out.

when he does you slowly approach him and ask him how practice went, with no response whatsoever

it was then that you realized: he was ignoring you

‘two can play that game’, you thought

you shrugged and walked into the bedroom

Kuroo was at a loss for words

why did you leave so suddenly? had he hurt your feelings??

nevertheless he continues on with the prank

it goes on for days, neither of you acknowledging the other

Kuroo didn’t know what to do, this isn’t how he meant it to go

he expected you to get frustrated, then for you two to have a few laughs and for it to be over

but here he was, 3 days after it started, sitting on the couch, realizing he has to make the 1st move

”y/n?”, he says, slowly creeping into your bedroom

“yes Tetsu?”, you reply, breathing a sigh of relief that this silent treatment was over

”y/n I- I don’t want you to get mad at me but.. this was all a prank”

”I know”

”wHAT”

”you’d never ignore me on purpose, even I know that. but I figured that you could use a taste of your own medicine“, you let out with a smirk

Kuroo sighs,”well since you know…”

”hm?”

”um…”,he stutters,”will you play with my hair??”

”of course Tetsu”

”I love you kitten”

”love you too”

Bokuto

poor bby is so scared he will hurt your feelings

his first reaction when his friends said he should do it was “why?”

why would he ignore you when he could just go up to you and have you cuddle him? it made no sense

however he decided to go through with it

“baby I’m home!” you say as you walk through the door

you’re met with silence ‘that’s weird’ you think

“Kou??” you say, worry in your voice

Bokuto hears you from the bedroom where he is sitting

he feels like crying, he doesn’t wanna make you worried

he slowly emerges from the room “oh there you are”, you say, sounding relieved

he doesn’t answer and instead goes to get something out of the kitchen

you are worried once again

had you done something?? was he mad at you???

you decided to give him some space and slowly retreated to the bedroom

now he really felt like crying

he had never meant to make you feel like you needed to leave

“y/n? baby??” you heard through noises that sounded like cries

you turn your head to see Bokuto with tears streaming down his face

“Kou?!? are you alright!? what happened..”

“I- I’m sorry”

you are at a loss for words “sorry? sorry for what??”

“it was a prank I’m so sorry”

you immediately realize what he means ‘that’s why he was acting so weird’ you think

“baby? baby please answer” you hear your boyfriend say

you look up and smile at him “come here Kou”

he slowly approaches you and you pull him to sit on the bed with you

“a-are you mad??” he lets out

“no sweetheart, I’m not mad”

“oh ok good….. I love you”

“love you too Kou”

Ushijima

like Bokuto his first word after it’s brought up is “why?”

why would he act like he’s mad at you when he’s not, when he loves you

you hear the door open and turn around in excitement, your boyfriend had been gone all week at away games and you couldn’t wait to see him.

you ran out beaming and went to wrap your arms around him only to be clearly dodged.

your first thought is that you did something wrong, that you’d hurt him in some way.

“Toshi?”, you ask, “are you ok??”

he doesn’t even turn around and instead walks even faster into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

he doesn’t know what to do, he knows he’s gone to far and feels terrible

he recalls the happiness on your face when you first saw him and feels his chest tighten

“why did I agree to this” he whispers to himself as he turns on the shower

a little while later you have given up on him ever coming out for dinner

you don’t feel like cleaning it up though, so instead you go out onto the balcony to get some air

a few minutes into standing outside you feel arms wrap around your waist

you turn around, alarmed, only to see your boyfriend with apologetic eyes

“Toshi?”, you say, so quiet it’s almost a whisper

“I’m sorry love”, he says,” I never should’ve treated you that way

“I’m just curious why? it was very out of character for you.”

he thinks before answering, “it’s not important, now.. how about we enjoy that lovely meal you cooked, hm?”

your face lights up as you nod and lead him into the kitchen

and right then Ushijima knows two things, one: he loves you, and two: he is never playing a prank on you ever again.

Kita

ok honestly… he doesn’t even know why he did it

he should know better than to listen to what Atsumu tells him to do

but here he was, 5 minutes before you were scheduled to be home, getting ready to completely ignore you.

he hears you open the front door and it takes all the will in his body not to rush out and envelope you in his arms

“Shin?”, he hears, “Where are you??”

he stays sitting on the bed as he feels his chest tighten

“Sh- oh there you are!”, you say as you walk through the doorway, “I’ve been looking all over!!”

he barely glances your way

you suddenly feel your heart beating harder, “S-shin??”

he once again doesn’t answer

you are worried he’s mad at you about something, yet decide to give him some space

you slowly exit the room in favor of making dinner

he feels like crying, he feels like running out to you and telling you he didn’t mean it

but would you even listen? you seemed like your feelings were hurt, so would you forgive him if you found out he had no good reason for ignoring you??

he couldn’t just sit there anymore, so he slowly went into the kitchen, finding you leaning on your arm against the counter as you waited for the water to boil

you suddenly spun around and saw Kita standing there, looking at you with wide eyes

you shot him the same look as you both waited for the other to say something

“I’m sorry-”, he suddenly blurted out, “it was a prank”

you let out a laugh “you? a prank?? are you sure?”

“I know right, I never should’ve listened to Atsumu”

“well I could’ve told you that”, you retorted

he chuckled, “I really am sorry”

“I know, and I forgive you”

“I’m glad, I love you sweetheart”

“love you too Shin”

y’all ik this sucks but it’s my first time writing hcs so go easy on me

791 notes · View notes

nctsworld · 3 years

Text

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

7K notes · View notes