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nctsworld · 3 years

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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

iwadori · 3 years

Note

Hiiii!!!! can you do like when you guys are supposed to meet up and they waited for about an hour or so and kept texting you you but you haven't replied so they thought you ditched them and got mad at you and stuff then they decided to go home and while on their way home not too far from their school they found you unconscious body with a large wound on you back and your head bleeding?.

can you pleaseease do tsukishima, yamaguchi, ushijima, bokuto (I'm sorry if that's a lot)

Haikyu Boys when you get hurt Pt 2 (Ushijima,Bokuto

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 2.6K

Genre: angst, fluff

masterlist

Ushijima

You were having the worst week this week, from battling a cold and your boss making you do all sorts of extra jobs (that were definitely not under your job description.) As easter was swiftly approaching you and Ushijima had your annual plans of going to the local kids community center and helping them with an easter egg hunt. But you don’t think you can manage it this year.

Ushijima gets home from practice with 4 bags just filled with easter eggs ranging from all different sizes, “woah there Toshi, you’ve got enough there too feed all of england” you laugh

“I don’t think these eggs will be able to sustain England Y/N” he says seriously making you laugh even harder. As you were laughing, you felt another migraine come along making your cringe in pain. “Toshi, I don’t think I can do the easter egg hunt this year?”

He sits down next to you alarmed that something is wrong, “why what happened Y/N” he asks

“I’ve been feeling terrible all week, and I even have a migraine right now” you say to him thinking he would understand.

“That’s it?” he questions thinking what you said was a joke “I think you can handle a migraine, remember we’re doing this for the kids”

His words were making you feel slightly guilty since maybe you were being over dramatic. “Y/N if it’s really ‘that bad’, i’ll make you some tea so you can feel better,” he says going into the kitchen to start on your tea. You murmur a quiet “thank you” and you end up falling asleep, hoping that by the time you wake up your head stops pounding.

As you wake up, you realise you slept all the way through the night and over to the next day as when you look at your clock it says 12:32 pm. You look at your nightstand and saw that Ushijima wrote you a note saying:

Y/N I've left out early to set out the easter egg hunt, I’ve made you breakfast so eat up and get prepared for the event which starts at 4pm. Please don’t forget.

Sincerely – Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You chuckle at the fondness of the note, before realising your pain. Your brain felt like it was having a live concert inside that definitely was not going to end soon but you still got up prepared for the day. You didn’t want to let Ushijima or the kids down.

When you go to the kitchen , you see the cute breakfast that Ushijima made you consisting of all of your favourite foods and with another simple note of him saying ‘ I love you. ‘ Ushijima has always been a lovely boyfriend, treating you like the queen you are always making sure that you were okay. Of course, his bluntness and his lack of social cues was something to get used to but when you did get accustomed to it, it only made you fall in love with him more.

You got ready, feeling even more sick as the piping hot shower that you usual have, did not help as when you were showering you felt heavily faint. However, you persevered since you did not want to let Ushijima down.

You finally were prepared to leave the house, with the community center being on 15 minutes walk away you were leaving out at 3:50pm since you were planning to take your car anyways. When you leave your home, you realise that you forgot your car keys so you dash up the stairs (a bit too quickly) to go and find them. Scrambling through your draws, your head is pounding harder and harder and the more it pounds the quicker your moving making you even more faint. You eventually find your keys and you’re ready to zoom to the community center but your body gave out and you pass out tumbling down the stairs landing at your front door.

Ushijima was waiting outside of the community center waiting for you to arrive it was 4:05pm and he was wondering where you were (knowing that your place was only a 10 minute drive away) he sent you a few texts asking where you were but when you don’t respond Ushijima becomes slightly annoyed, plastering a fake smile on his face and entering the community center, starting the easter egg hunt.

The easter egg hunt came to a close at 8pm and Ushijima assumed that you would’ve showed up some time in the middle of the event, but you obviously didn’t show. After making sure that all the kids left safely Ushijima decided to call and text you more and when you continuously don’t respond and your calls go to voicemail he says ‘Y/N, im really disappointed with you right now. How could you do this to me? You said you would show up, the kids were really upset, how could you be so selfish?’

He walks to your house knocking on the door, but when you don’t immediately answer he knew something must be up now, since you haven’t responded to any of his texts and calls and didn’t show up he figured there was something deeper then you just ditching the event.

He used his key to open the door, surprised when the door hit something. He tried again hitting the ‘object’ that was laying at the door again. He carefully pushes the door to make enough room for him to fit through the gap. When he entered, he was startled at the sight of you, there you lay completely knocked out with a blood stain next to your head. He knelt down next to you and touched your cheek you were extremely cold, he had to get you to a hospital stat. He called an ambulance, panicked. Worrying about how long you’ve been out for since it would have to be atleast more than 4 hours he assumed.

You woke up in a foreign room, with your head slightly stinging. You place your hand on the back of your head and wince, then you remember you need to be at the easter egg hunt so you bolt up ready to move.

“I don’t think that’s wise for you to do that Y/N” Ushijima says to you

“Toshi, what happened?” you ask still in pain

“It seems you fell down the stairs and hit your head” after he said that all your memories come flooding back, and you remember rushing to the community centre, looking for your keys, and then falling down the stairs and everything going black.

“I’m sorry Ushi for missing the easter egg hunt, I really tried to get there,” you say with an apologetic look on your face

“It’s fine Y/N of course you wouldn’t of been able to get there after falling down the stairs” he says “Also, this is proof of why you shouldn’t run down the stairs”

You eventually get discharged with the doctor telling you all you need to do is rest and stay off your feet. Ushijima took the doctor's orders very seriously, becoming your loyal servant and waiting on you hand and foot, tending to your every need. He did also make you were eating healthy and taking all your medicine so you could have the best recovery possible.

Also, after realising that this could’ve all been avoided if Ushijima didn’t guilt trip you in the first place for having a migraine, he made sure to never ignore or dismiss when you say you are ill or have anything wrong with you even if it’s a migraine, a lost limb or a simple paper cut.

Bokuto

The Olympics were coming up and Bokuto couldn’t be any more excited than he already was. Everything he’s talked about for the past month he manages to find a way to relate to the Olympics, and as annoying as it got sometimes you were just as excited for it as much as Bokuto was.

Bokuto was heavily busy with extra practices so you were bored and lonely, since your boyfriend was at practice all the time so you chose to take up a new hobby. You decided to paint, although you weren’t an award-winning painter you still found joy in it. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend you had some slight unwanted attention on you: the usual fans of Bokuto that just followed you to have an extra aspect of him in their life's, or his fangirls that adored him.

You didn’t mind the fangirls for the most part since majority of them were pretty tamed and did fawn over your relationship. However, there was the minority of fans that did make it known to you that they DID NOT like you at all. When you started posting your paintings, it seems their hate for you amplified since they always found the need to leave an astray of mean comments on your post. But that didn’t mainly bother you since you thought that they only had that energy behind the screen.

The days went by getting closer to the Olympics, with Bokuto always asking you every day “Y/N you are coming to my games, right?” to which you always replied “Of course Kou, I’m coming” which always made him smile.

When the Olympics came, you’ve went to all the games cheering Bokuto and the team on as they were winning round after round. Whilst this was going on, the group of girls that were sending you horrible messages and making mean posts about you weren’t stopping. At first, you didn’t care for them but it seems their posts only gotten worse making comments about your artwork, your face, your body type ect.

You didn’t want to tell Bokuto as you felt that it would ruin his Olympic momentum and you thought you could handle it all on your own.

It was nearing to the final game of the Olympics, and Bokuto was ecstatic he made sure that you promised you’d be there claiming that you was his ‘good luck’ charm.’ You were excited to go too, the feeling of watching Bokuto play was exhilarating seeing him fully in his element was great for you to see.

On the last game day, Boktuo was already at the stadium since him and the team had to be there earlier to practice and you planned to meet him there just before the game started at 4:30. You went to a florist before the match getting Bokuto the biggest boquet that you could buy.

On your way to the stadium you here somebody whistle from behind you, you turn around and see a group of girls waiting behind you smirking. “Hi?” you say more like a question then a statement “do you want something from me?”

Some of them laugh, but the one standing at the front who you mentally lable the ‘main one’ steps closer to you and says “We want you to stay away from Bokuto” you realise that these were the girls sending you hate online for these past weeks.

Before you can even blink, the girls jump you, hitting, kicking and clawing at you. You are in pain, screaming and crying for them to stop and leave you alone. You lay there, letting them beat you up thinking that you’ll probably end up dead out of this. All you can think about is Bokuto, you didn’t get to wish him good luck, or give him your flowers (that you spent a fortune on) or even tell him that you loved him one last time.

You think the girls eventually stopped but you couldn’t tell because your body was throbbing and you hurt all over. You tried to get up still wanting to go to the match but you collapse going out cold.

Bokuto was scanning the crowd over and over for you, hoping to spot you there. But he couldn’t, he was wondering where you were getting sadder and sadder by the second since he really believed you were his good luck charm and he probably wouldn’t be able to win without at least seeing your face once.

They didn’t win. Bokuto knew he wasn’t playing at his best, since all his mind was on was thinking about where you were. You’ve never missed one of his games, so he was incredibly worried. After he accepted his second-place medal, he rushed out the stadium to go to your house but he was stopped by some fangirls ‘I guess signing autographs is the least I can do’ he thinks, the fans were being a bit odd today but he didn’t have time to focus on that as his mind was racing thinking about you and your whereabouts.

One of his fans did give him an alarmingly big boquet of roses which he appreciated ‘these must of cost a fortune’ he thinks. Although it was a probably a long shot, he decided to ask the fan if he saw someone who looked like *whatever you look like* to maybe see if someone else saw you. Which the fan replied “yeah I saw them with some guy at this restaurant whilst we were going to see you!” they exclaimed.

‘A guy’ he thought ‘that most likely wasn’t you.’ Seeing Bokuto’s confusion, the fan followed up with “I'm pretty sure it was her I mean we all know who Bokuto Koutaro’s girlfriend was.” Bokuto didn’t reply just walking away making sure to thank them for the flowers.

He was rushing towards your house on foot (since all the taxi’s and ubers were fully booked because of the Olympics) whilst running he stumbles across your passed out body all black and bruised with scratch marks and bleeding all over you. “what happened” he whispered, knowing you obviously weren’t going to respond.

He picked up your near-dead body, and cradled you in his arms taking you back to the stadium (since he knew that getting an ambulance to come here or running to the hospital would basically be impossible.) When he got back to the stadium, he did get odd looks from strangers but he didn’t care, his only agenda was making sure you were okay.

You woke up, and saw Bokuto pacing the room repeatedly you tried to get his attention by saying his name but your throat was damaged. He eventually notices you and runs to your side, stroking your face softly and giving you a gentle hug making sure not to hurt you.

“Who did this Y/N?” he asks with worry in his eyes

You ignore his question and look at the silver medal wrapped around his neck making you sad “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the match, I tried I really did try” you said with your voice sounding even worse after you said every word.

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad that you’re okay babe, I was really worried about you.” he said

The Medic came in and said that you had multiple broken ribs, but beside that you were fine you just needed to rest your throat and let your bruises heal. You eventually told Bokuto that it was some of his fans, he was upset that you hid this from him for so long but he was just glad that he got to you as soon as he did. He managed to play at the next Olympics and you were there fully present, with your even bigger boquet of flowers watching win gold.

Authors Note: I tried to make it as close to your request as possible, but I hope you enjoy as I really do think this is my favourite work so far.... :3 Comments and feedback appreciated.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu scenarios #haikyu #haikyu angst #haikyu fluff #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu-fluff #haikyu x reader #ushijima imagine #ushijima oneshot #ushijima angst #ushijima x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #koutarou x reader #bokuto scenarios #signedwithane😌

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maria-akira · 3 years

Text

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

#michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs 8 #ahs 9 #ahs smut #cody fern imagines #cody fern x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #michael langdon smut #duncan shepherd smut #american horror story 9 #xavier plympton imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagines

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Note

matthew and degradation/spit play 👀🥵

a/n; lol i was looking through my inbox and this stuck out to me because yall know i love my spit kink, anywhooo hope yall enjoy this

warnings; degradation, spitting, daddy kink, oral (male receiving)

to say you were being a brat earlier that day was an understatement. during filming you spent the day flirting with everyone on set. and while usually it was good nature chummy fooling around, matthew knew exactly what you were doing. you were trying to get under his skin.

everyone else thought you were just being extra touchy. who could blame you, they’re all hot and you’re close friends. it started off with shemar and feeling on his muscles. during breaks you would all try to take pictures. one in particular was him with his shirt pulled up. all the girls, kirsten, paget, aj, and yourself were all gathered around pretending to gawk at him. though you took the artistic liberty of leaning forward and stick your tongue out as if you were liking his stomach.

everyone got a laugh out of it and you were called back to film from your break. matthew gave you a look from across the set. it was a fake scowl before he changed into his usual smile. he’d get in on the picture too so he wasn’t that upset. then you kept escalating.

you were filming a scene in the conference room where paget was standing next to you. the button down she was wearing had a stain above her chest and you pointed it out for the dressing crew to try and fix.

quickly she made a comment which perfect for you to match her energy.

“god y/n get a view checking for that stain,” she said with a smirk.

“i was actually trying to be a good friend and cast mate but if you wanna give me a show i wont say no,” you winked.

“ditch noodle boy over there and you got yourself a deal.”

everyone around you groaned or hooted at the comment. again matthew looked at you with a little more of that angry look in his eyes. you smiled at him innocently and looked back at paget fidling with the bleaching pen they gave her to fix the stain.

at this point he was able to put the dots together and see what you were doing. though he decided to keep his calm and act like he wasn’t upset at what you were doing. he wanted to see what length you would go to just for his attention.

he found out while you guys were filming on the ‘jet’. you were sat in the 4 seater next to him with thomas and aj across from you. you were going over victimology in the case so matthew was giving one of his long facts, in the meantime you decided to let your hand drift onto his thigh. he tried to seem unphased and cleared his throat but kept on going.

you upped the pressure and gave his leg a squeeze before slowing trailing your fingers up to where his dick was resting. biting your lip you tried not to let your smile show at how the redness was spreading from his neck to his ears.

while you thought you were being sneaky thomas had noticed and had a small hotch-like smirk on his face. once matthew was in the middle of reading off a long number he spoke up, “reid, thats enough and agent y/l/n no more fooling around under the table this is a cbs show for christ sake.”

everyone looked over to you guys and started laughing. the director yelled cut and everyone took a deep breath to redo the scene.

“y/n no foolery this time,” thomas said in his scolding hotch voice.

“say no more daddy,” you said before taking putting on your acting face.

you heard matthew let out a sigh next to you. you could tell he was trying his best to keep this mix of anger and arousal contained until after the day was over.

since it was the last scene of the day once you were all wrapped you made your way into your trailer. You stepped out of the heels and pulled off your belt to get comfy. there was a knock on your door which pulled you out of your thoughts. once you unlocked it matthew wasted no time in whipping the door open and putting his hand in the back of your head. he grabbed a handful of hair and brought you down to your knees.

you looked ahead and were met with a face full of his hard cock trapped within his dress pants. he tilted your head up and made you look into his eyes. the usual caramel was gone and replaced with lust blown pupils.

“you know i don’t like bratty girls y/n,” the way gritted out your name went straight to your pussy.

“im sorry daddy,” you said with a pout. you really weren’t but you knew egging him on would just result in you not being able to sit for a few days.

“oh now you wanna be nice and call me that? maybe i should call thomas in here? im sure he’d love to see his sweet little y/n on her knee’s like the whore she truly is,” he said leaning down, inches away from your face.

you whimpered at his words, trying to pull your face closer to his. you could smell his minty toothpaste and were dying to taste it on his lips. he pulled back and used his unoccupied hand to undo his belt.

“dirty whores don’t deserve anything other than my cock in their mouth. do you understand?” he roughly let go of your hair and looked at you expectantly. knowing what he wanted you replied as your hands went to unbutton his pants, “i understand daddy.”

he kept his scrutinizing gaze down on you as you pulled down his briefs and pumped his cock a few times. trying not to tease him you licked a stripe up to the tip before taking him in your mouth.

he let out a sigh as he let you set a pace at first. he was being generous instead of forcing himself down your throat like he would later.

“fuck just like that baby. such a perfect mouth.” he said breathlessly.

you hummed around him and he took it as a sign to get rougher. he let both of his hands go to the back of your head as he started to thrust into your mouth.

“god you’re such a whore. i bet you’d let anyone on set just use you how i am right now.”

you moaned around him, causing him to let out a groan from the added stimulation. you tried to sneak your hand down to rub against your pants. it wasn’t much but you needed something, anything to try and gain some friction. he caught on and let go of your head on one side, ripping your hand out from between your legs.

“sluts like you don’t deserve any kind of pleasure until daddy decides they deserve it. you’re gonna let me cum down your throat then we’re gonna go home and maybe just maybe ill decide if you get to cum.”

you nodded around him and let him set his pace again. you felt your throat getting sore as he kept on thrusting. he started to falter and throb in your mouth signaling his incoming release. he pulled your head all the way down to where your nose was against his pelvis as he spilled his load down your throat.

he pulled his cock out of your mouth as you swallowed, the salty tears running down your face surly trailed your mascara and eyeliner.

you looked up at him with big eyes, eager to do anything which would gain you a release later tonight. he smiled down at you sweetly which was a huge contrast from his previous actions and what he was about to do.

he used his thumb to wipe away the streaks and tucked some of your hair behind your ear, “i think you deserve a reward princess.”

the same thumb trailed on your swollen lips, “open and swallow it,” he said before spitting right onto your tongue.

you happily complied and watched as he tucked himself back into his pants.

“thank you daddy.”

#criminal minds smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader

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sweetiejunie · 4 years

Text

Txt reaction when other members see marks on them that you left. Thought of this really random thing and decided to post it. iM SoRrY.

[Well not rly txt but legal line]

Genre: idk smut(?)/ fluff(?)

=====================================

Marks

It’s been a while since you last saw each other. Your bpyfriend had been on tour for the past few months and you missed each other. I mean, who wouldnt? You missed his touch, his laugh, just him general — and maybe also a particular part of him. Sure, you talked on facetime every other night while he was away but nothing could beat the real thing.

The day he came back you met him at the airport and spent the rest of the day with him. You both knew how busy and hectic he schedule would be once their short break was over, so you wanted to make the most out of it. He invited you stay the night with him and let’s just say things got a bit... intense.

—.*•—

Yeonjun

You both had woken up together, saying your shares of ‘i love you’s to each other.

Deciding you wanted to be decent before running into the others, you hopped into the shower while yeonjun went to the kitchen to get breakfast.

He came out of his room with a tank top in hand. Not realising, he hadn’t even bother to put it on before facing the other boys.

Realising what? Well...

As he made his way around the kitchen, he felt everyone’s eyes on him.

“What? Fine, if it bothers you guys so much ill put on my shirt,” he stated, figuring the stares were form the others pettiness.

After he had put on his tank top, the boys started laughing, confusing him more.

Sensing his confusion, soobin tried to contain his laughter and clued, “hyung, go take a took in the mirror.”

Walking towards the mirror they had in the livingroom (where they hang their clothes) yeonjun glared at the other boys, still unsure of what got them so cracked up in the morning.

He looked in the mirror, and it didnt take long for his eyes to fall on his collar bone and shoulders, where a few red marks were littered.

He couldnt help but smirk. A sense of pride washing over him. As you can tell, he wasn’t afraid to show you off and call you his.

Well, that and also the thought of being able to punish you tonight as well.

“Well you guys surely know what i was up to last night then,” he proudly stated to the others. (This cocky mf-)

One of the boys chimed in, “wait, i just realised. If yeonjun hyung looks like that, what does y/n look like?”

With that everyone would burst out laughing. Everyone but yeonjun, who was now making his way to the bathroom, banging on the door for you to hurry out.

Honestly, he couldn’t wait to see how flustered and embarrassed you would get infront of the other.

—.*•—

Soobin

Waking up next to you was one of soobin’s favourite things. He loved seeing your sleeping face, peaceful and snuggled up in his chest.

Slowly getting up, he wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.

Picking up his tshirt and sweats off the floor, he put them on and made his way to the kitchen.

“Morning hyung, y/n not awake yet?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, wanted to make her some breakfast before she does.”

Humming a reply, taehyun gave him a pat on the shoulder before walking away.

However, the moment his hand landed on his shoulders, soobin hissed and winced in pain, which of course didnt go unnoticed by the others.

“You okay hyung?” Taehyun questioned, tone full with concern. By now, everyone was staring at soobin, wondering what was wrong.

“Here, lift your shirt, maybe you got injured,” yeonjun said, walk over from the couch.

Complying, soobin peeled off his shirt. But the moment he did so, he heard snickering from the other members.

“What’s wrong?” Soobin probed.

Taking a picture with his phone, still laughing, yeonjun showed it to soobin, accompanied with, “maybe you shouldn’t go so hard next time.”

Seeing the picture, his shoulder blades were covered with scratch marks. Soobin was embarrassed, but somewhat happy?

“Dont be embarrassed hyung, at least you’re getting some,” beomgyu said, another string of laughter following.

“What are you guys laughing about?” The suddenness of your voice shocking them. You walked out of soobin’s room, dressed in what they figured to be one of his shirts.

Rushing to put his shirt back on, soobin stood still, unsure of what to say.

“Hey y/n, get over here-” yeonjun called out, getting cut off by a panicking soobin.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” soobin chanted, running over to you, pulling you back into his room.

Let’s just say it took a lot of convincing to get that little flustered bunny to leave him room again.

—.*•—

Beomgyu

Beomgyu woke up, admiring you sleeping in his arms. He would lay there, simply playing with your hair or carassing your face gently.

Sighing, he realised he had to leave for work soon.

Dragging himself away from you, he looked in the mirror, getting himself ready when he noticed the dark marks on his neck and collar bones.

Mentally he cursed himself, but at the same time he felt strangly proud to see them.

Deciding to put on an oversized hoodie to cover them, he left for the practise room and left you to your slumber.

Halfway through practise, no one noticed and beomgyu had completely forgotten about the marks.

Well, he forgot about them until someone had to point it out.

“Good job guys, take 10,” their instructor complimented.

Grabbing a bottle, beomgyu chugged it, tilting his head back just a bit too far.

“Hyung, what happened to your neck?” Kai innocently asked.

Curious, the other members turned their attention to him as well.

Confused, beomgyu thought about it for a second. And then realisation hit him.

“Oh, nothing,” beomgyu answered, wanting to change the topic as soon as possible.

“No, that’s not nothing,” soobin would state, a smirk on his face as he went to grab the neck line of beomgyus hoodie, pulling it down slightly.

Bursting out in laughter at the sight.

Wrapping his arm around him, soobin said, “well, well, well. Is our beomgyu growing up?” Wiggling his eyebrows at him.

And of course, the other boys got the hint and started laughing as well.

“Hey, at least im getting laid,” beomgyu retorted, shooting a glare at soobin suggestively.

With that, all soobin could reply with was, “shut up.”

Just like that, beomgyus day went on as per normal. But he couldn’t wait to get home and see the look on your face when you realised what you did.

=====================================

Really random ㅠㅠ was planning to post something else but hated it and decided to start again from scratch

Masterlist • Pt2

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xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years

Text

Young God-Part 1

Summary: Your power isn't even a power its simply words. You can understand people, get into their head and know them better than anyone all willingly on their end. This made you useful to the avengers when villains came and you could understand and fix them. When this is asked to be done to loki you cant help but fall for the god the more you get to know him.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: Swearing, Loki being loki,angst

Notes: Ok lemme just start of saying loki isn't going to be...nice in the beginning of this i got the idea off of joker and harley quinn's relationship and slightly silence of the lambs so do with that what you will now i adore loki so he won't be a dick the whole time just yea someone getting into loki's head? he isn't too chill with that.

You walked down the stairs leading to the dungeon where the god was locked away ready for you to speak to. you heard the mocking laughs and sarcastic remarks made as you passed the cells.” “hey mortal lemme get a taste” he said thrust to you. you flipped him off not looking at him and passing on by. seeing the god laying on the couch reading a book you walked through the boundaries placed stepping before him. Odin had given you a pill, said it would allow you past the wall of an hour and only you. “hello” he said reading his book still. “apologies for my fellow inmates they can be quiet rude” he said with a small smirk.

“ironic coming from a man with the nickname silver tongue” you said sitting down on a chair in front of him. he placed down his book “oh doll there's more to that nickname” he said with a wink. you simply rolled your eyes in response. you had been told loki was like this. “anyways why are you here” he asked sitting up turning to you “did odin send you to make sure im behaving?” he asked with a snarky tone

You made a mental note of his hatred for odin, though from your interactions with the man you slightly understood that. “i'm here to speak to you” is all you said. loki scoffed “you doll are a horrible liar” he said with a smirk. He stood up and walked around you almost scanning you. “what's the real reason your here?” he asked behind you. “truly i am here to talk to you” you repeated with a straight face and shrug. “then talk” he said bending down right in front of your face. his breath ghosting over your face and his long wavy hair falling in his face. “your a god you live for years on end tell me loki, how old are you?” you asked. loki gave a smile before standing “my age? that's what you came for?” he huffed. “ill answer your questions if you answer mine” he said in return

you turned around facing him “i don't answer questions” you said with a shrug “oh come on doctor i know your other patients didn't just comply with your questioning” he said with a smirk. he was always smiling or smirking, never a true smile something to show planning, no not planning, anger? no not anger. hurt? yes thats it hes hurt and hides it with his devilish smile. to throw you off to push you away. make you fear him over wanting to know him.

Now the new question was how did he know you were a doctor. well you may not be an official doctor but you were one of sorts. You had been in college to get a phycology degree until fury swept you up making you work for him. you tilted your head alarming the god you were lost on his accusation. “oh dear as you said i am a god you don't think i could fall for your tricks and lies like the others did you?” he asked walking to you “doll only i make the tricks here” he said holding your jaw. “now we play by my rules” he said with another smile. “stop” you said. his smile widened “stop smiling” you said. you saw a hint of confusion wash over before it was erased with another smirk “why doll?” he asked. “because its a lie” you said. loki's face became serious “you talk of lies yet you wouldn't tell me why your here” he said walking around the room.

“Fine i'm here to evaluate you” you said simply “now will you answer my questions?” you asked. “I have been just not the ones you want the answer to.” he replied. “agree to my terms and ill be more than willing to answer you” he said with a sarcastic smile “i ask the questions not you” you replied. he shrugged laying back down reading his book again. you only had an hour with him so you had no choice but to comply with his rules or you'll get nowhere but you also didn't want the god to think he could just boss you around and throw a fit.

you shrugged picking up your bag walking out of the room. “1,054″ you said blankly. you turned confused “my age” he said still reading. you nodded walking back in “one question” you said sitting down. he smirked still looking at the book but not reading it “well start simple. name?” he asked. “y/n” you replied. “y/n....mmm now y/n why are you here?” he asked sitting up. “to evalu-” you started to say before he cut you off “why are you here?” he asked “were not doing this loki i said one question” you said standing back up. your hour was almost over. “what happened doctor don't like a taste of your own medicine?” he asked with a dark smile. “why do you do that? smile so much?” you asked. “you tell me you said it was a lie which means you've made your own deductions of it so tell me doc why do i smile so much?” he asked tilting his head.

“to make people uncomfortable. they see you smile this mischievous smile a smile that they expect from the god of mischief. you become what people expect of you so they stay away now why you push people you don't know away i'm not quiet sure on but i assume it has something to do with your spite for odin” you said simply. loki gave a wide smile standing up “well well well doc, you are utterly” he said behind you getting close to your ear “wrong” he said simply straightening backup. “now you well i do have so many things to say about you” he said moving in front of you. “you evaluate people thinking you know everything about them so much more than they know themself, from body language to words to the crime they commited. but i my dear am simply a king who deserved a throne and would fight for it” he said sitting back down “hours up doll better leave before your trapped in here” he said looking at you with another smile.

Walking back up you felt unnerved. the god had a weird aura to him like he could read your mind. granted he may actually be able to in which case you need to be more careful about such things. you walked to your room feeling empty and drained. you fell back on the bed rubbing your face. the odinsons had given you your own quarters while you stayed there. there was knock on the door and you groaned “its open” you replied and the door opened revealing yet another god, a kinder one. Thor walked over sitting next to you “how was loki?” he asked. “loki was....exactly how yall described him” you sighed. thor griminced he hoped his brother would behave “did you get anything out of him?” he asked. “just his age which is useless it was more a test to see if he'd comply with me. think he got more out of me than i of him” you said looking up at thor.

“give him time. my brother can be...difficult but your a legend at this so you should do well it may take longer than usual but you'll get it” thor said cheerfully. you gave a small smile. you wanted to believe that you truly did but honestly you weren't sure. “loki sure is a strange guy” you said sitting up “Well he's not a guy hes a god such as i and he was raised by my mother” he said to you.

“get some rest i bet you'll do much better tomorrow” he said with a smile walking out. you sighed and changed, laying bed you felt sleep take over.

you stood in a black room seeing your parents smiling faces “mom? dad? you said with a smile. you started to run to them before blood dripped from there eyes and they slowly faded away. you stepped back feeling empty once again. you heard a chuckle and turned seeing loki laugh and roll his eyes before vanishing too

You awoke with a small scream and your heart racing. you were drenched in sweat and tears streamed down your face. once you calmed you growled launching up from bed and walking down to the dungeon storming past the assholes shouting crude things at you. you stood at loki's cell banging on the wall “hey asshole” you said blatantly. “well hello to you too doll isnt this a shocker” he said with another smile god how you wanted to slap that smile off his face “shut up” you said. loki sat up looking at you “well what can i do for you?” he asked. “your not supposed to have you powers in here” you said with a stern face

loki tilted his head in mock confusion “why i don't” he said voice dripping in sarcastic hurt as if offended by such accusations. “don't lie you bastard! You were in my head i know it you know it so let's just both know it” you yelled at him. His smile widened “ok darling but see i do have one question left unanswered. how did your parents die?” he asked stepping to the glass. “they didn't it was simply a nightmare” you groaned.

“no no see people who dream of the death unprompted feel pain,sadness,fear they try to stop it you well you felt nothing you just...stood there” he said looking down at you. “so how was it they died?” he asked. “if you can get in my head then you sure as shit know” you said looking down at the floor. you really did not want to speak of it.

“of course i do doll but i want to hear you say it” he said leaning on the glass. “i will not play into your game” you said storming off “you still hear it dont you? their screams” he said. “i do” he said after

you turned “pardon?” you asked walking back to him. “have a nice night darling” he said smiling walking back to his couch. “but you said-” you were cut off by the sounds of footsteps “oi you are not to be down here madam” the man said walking to you “oh yes sorry i must have sleep walked” you replied walking upstairs back to your bed.

laying down your head felt as if it was spinning. This was going to be an interesting roller coaster wasn't it.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki layfeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #MCU #MCU fanfiction #mcu x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #tom hiddleston

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le0watch · 3 years

Text

(tws: implied mental illness and self harm)

today is the day.

the day langa has been dreading.

he looks out his front window, his chin propped on the palm of his hand. he's waiting, sitting on one of the chairs in his living room, leg bouncing impatiently.

he doesn't really want this addition to his household, but he'd rather get the thing and move on with his life. but no, they have to be running late.

he sighs heavily, and goes to picking at the skin around his fingernails. the familiar sting and drops of blood calms him a little, and he draws in a deep breath. it'll be fine. mom wants this, since she can't live with him right now. he needs this to stay stable, apparently.

he jumps when theres a knock on the front door. at some point, an automated taxi had pulled up in front of his house without him noticing. he takes a moment to wonder how he hadn't noticed it, before pushing to his feet to open the door.

a flash of red hair and amber eyes greets him, with skin a darker tan than langa's pale skin. the thing is grinning widely, hands tucked behind its back. it perks up when it sees him, and langa wants to rip his hair out. he'd known they'd purchased one a month ago, personalizing it to fit langa's needs and physical preferences, but to actually see it on his doorstep was like getting slapped in the face.

"hello!" the android exclaims, its led mood light circling a calm blue. "my name is reki- i'm the android sent by cyberlife!"

langa has to bite back a groan of annoyance. "hi," he replies. he has to play nice. this thing is motoring him and his moods. it's probably taking notes of his physical appearance and outfit option. which, his outfit for today isnt as bad as it usually is. it's a baggy white shirt and a pair of jeans. simple and comfortable.

"it is so nice to finally meet you!" the android continues, clasping its hands in front of itself with glee. "i was designed to fit your personal needs and preferences-" he already knew that- "but if you do not like how i look or act, you can always send me back for maintenance. the first change is free!"

"yay," langa replies coldly. but he steps back and gestures of the thing to step inside. it does, looking around his small home. "this is the living room, over there is the kitchen, and to the left down the hall is my bed and bathroom. id rather you not go in there."

"i'll have to, it's part of my programming," the thing says, with the audacity to sound apologetic. as if. androids can't feel anything. "my program dictates that you cannot be allowed alone for too long, because of your past actions."

langa lets out another heavy sigh, dragging his hand down his face. his mom probably added that to it. shes been so worried about him since he'd tried to commit not too long ago.

"right," langa responds. "so... what do you do?"

"im glad you ask!" the android says with too much cheer. it's starting to give langa a headache. "i was custom designed to act as your caregiver and to be the eyes of your loved ones. My functions are as follows: medication, time, self care, and eating reminders. i have basic medical knowledge, so if you injure yourself i can help heal it. i am also programmed to become a friend of yours if you so desire."

"uh huh," langa says, quickly losing interest in the situation. as if he'd ever be friends with an android, anyways.

"so, may i ask when you are supposed to take your prescribed medicines?" the android asks next, not missing a beat. "as well how long you are typically in the bathroom, so that i may check on you if you are in there longer than the given time."

"you don't need to know that," langa snaps, instinctively shifting on his feet. the fresh cuts on his thighs sting, but it's a good feeling. "but i can give you my meds so you know."

"okay! i'll time you next time you are in the bathroom, so i can get a feel of your usual time," the android says brightly. langa glares at it. it doesn't seem to notice. "i should inform you as well: i have a smelling receptor implemented, so if i smell blood on you, or find that you have seriously injured yourself, i will instantly contact medical help to come pick you up. afterwards, i will check you into a mental hospital to make sure you get the help you need if i am not enough."

langa's nose scrunches up with distaste. "asshole," he mutters. he thinks he says it quiet enough so that the thing can't hear him, yet he still catches the led on its temple cycling from blue to red, indicating distress. weird.

"y- i am sorry," it stutters. androids could stutter? huh, they must make them able to do almost anything. "for now, i will give you space. i will check up on you semi-frequently. please let me know if you need anything, and when you are going to bring me your perscribed medication." it pauses, staring off into the distance for a moment. its eyes have a strange look in them, the led cycling red for a few seconds longer before returning to blue. it smiles at him, but he gets the feeling its forced. "i am glad to be here with you. i will be entering rest mode, now."

with that, it shuts down, led cycling yellow, fake eyelids lowered over its fake eyes. it almost looks like an actual person had fallen asleep standing up.

too bad it's fake.

he sighs heavily for the third time the past hour and runs a hand down his face. his hands tingle with the need to grab his favorite knife, but he doesn't want it to smell his blood. he'll have to find times and places to do it, then.

he just isn't prepared for the events that are soon to follow after receiving this thing. if he had, he would have sent straight back to cyberlife.

#bro i wrote this at like midnight last night #i have no idea how my brain came up with this uh #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #renga #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #snowgear #detroit: bh #my writing #my drabbles

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younghosfavewhore · 3 years

Text

mine forever . 1:27am

part 1 [a] / part 2 [s]

wc; 1.5k

plot; nctjohnny!boyfriend x femreader!girlfriend

the members of nct have been stirred up in dating rumors and scandals for the past month. when pictures of johnny meeting with a childhood friend begin to float around, you must remind johhny that he’s yours. forever.

prompts; [a]6 “She was nothing to you, was she? Then prove it.” [a]20 “People talk- people will always talk...”

warnings; (mentions of TAEYONG’s injury) fluff?!, jealous reader, angsty!!!

My eyes skim over the articles. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The headlines seemed to drag on forever, “Johnny Suh; NCT’s 5th member involved in Dating Scandal”. Another read, “NCT Johnny Caught with Foreigner; Photos Below”

photos?

I couldn’t resist clicking the link that my cursor hovered over. The full article was now displayed onto my screen. The pictures loaded for a second, then they were displayed before me. And there it was, Johnny Suh -my Johnny Suh- at a cafe with a blonde-haired foreigner. I continued scrolling, which was probably a mistake, but I was in shock. Certainly they were doctored by some vengeful sasaeng. Another link pops onto my screen, “NCT Johnny Suh has Foreign Girlfriend? VIDEO FOOTAGE”

you’re fucking kidding me.

A notification sound blares from my phone, the sixth one in the past half hour. I haven’t even picked up my phone, I know what the notifications are. There was no doubt in my mind that it was Johnny texting me a sad excuse for the video that’s now playing on a loop on my screen. I recognized her. Her blonde hair and small frame. It was his high school sweetheart; Madison. In the video -which was only about 8 seconds long- you could see him embrace her. They stood at the cafe table, drinks in hand, about to depart. Johnny’s long arms then spread out, welcoming her into a hug. He initiated it. Even in front of all these people, all these cameras. He hugged her. He knew exactly what he was doing. Another notification sound blared through my phone speaker. Why did this make me feel so threatened? So weak? I pick up my phone <6 unread texts from johnny❤> I open the messages, taking a deep breath as I do so.

johnny❤: baby?

y/n? text me when you get this.

ik you see my texts

i know you’re upset please just text me

i can explain, i promise…

im omw to the hotel, we’ll talk when i get there, ok?

My eyes widen at the last text. Why was he on his way here? What made him think that I wanted to see him?

me: dont bother, i dont think i want to see you rn

I send the text with tears welling in my eyes. I was just beginning to fully wrap my head around the events that unfolded before me.

*ding* <1 new text from johnny❤>

johnny❤: please, y/n

you know me better than anyone, don’t believe these rumors, y/n

Me: i saw the pictures johnny… and the video. what excuse could you have?

My head began to spin, no way did he think I was going to fall for his pity story.

johnny❤: this is why we’ll talk in person

i have a lot of explaining to do, i know. just listen to me please

i’m only 2 minutes away, ill explain everything i promise

Take a deep breath. I think to myself, convincing myself that maybe he would have a good excuse. After all, it's Johnny. Would he ever do anything to hurt me? I struggled to gain composure as I heard a familiar knock on the door. The lock clicked and the door crept open. I stood in the living room of the homey suite.

“y/n..” Johnny’s voice breaks the silence. He peeks from behind the door.

My eyes meet his and I feel faint. What’s going to happen? I ask myself, not knowing the right answer as hundreds of thoughts fill my head.

He continues inside, closing the door softly behind him. He takes slow strides in my direction, and that’s when the tears well in my eyes. Why? I’m not sure, I’ve always been one to get overwhelmed easily, but this was new. His hand reaches out to take mine and I flinch away. The images of him taking another girl into his arms flashing in my head.

“Why her? How--” My voice breaks and the tears finally fall from my eyes.

“It’s not at all what you think it is, baby.” His voice was soft and genuine. Almost desperate.

“Then what is it? Huh?” My voice changed from calm to angry. I took a deep breath in an attempt to try to calm myself back down and I back farther away from him. “I... I was patient. I knew this would happen. I was understanding of the rumors, the lies. But this? These pictures? These videos?” I began to lose my cool. “How could you possibly explain this?” Anger was tainting my words, what was I saying? “If you want to be with her then just say that.” I spit the words out.

Johnny looks taken aback, rightfully so. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it, Johnny?!” I shouted, menacingly. “It isn’t adding up.” I plead as my voice cracks. “Please, just fucking explain yourself.”

He walks towards me again, I don’t have the energy to fight him anymore. He takes my hand and places a light kiss on it.

“I know you’re confused. I know you’re angry.” He doesn’t take his eyes off of mine. “People talk. In this industry, people talk so fucking much.” His tone was so gentle; he was hurt but still so gentle with me. “People will always talk, okay, y/n?”

I nod, tears streaming down my face at this point.

“I’m in the wrong here. You saw the videos, I know, but there’s more to it than that.” He sits me down next to him on the couch.

“I just don’t understand.” My voice trembles. “With the other members, Doyoung, Mark, it was just gossip, easily dismissed. But…” My voice trails off.

“I know.” He sighs and pulls me close to him. “Those pictures were taken completely out of context.” where is he going with this? “Yes, it was Madison. And I’m sorry for meeting up with her without telling you, especially with everything that’s been going on…” He traced his fingers in small circles along my back, something he often did when he needed to calm me down. He sighs and pulls me closer to him, we sit in silence for a bit before he continues. “As you know, Taeyong… His injury?”

I nod my head against his chest. “I know…” I whisper in response. what does that have to do with anything?

“Well… Madison, when I met with her at the cafe,” He paused, awaiting a reaction but I didn’t give one. I wanted to hear him out. He continues, “She moved here a few months ago. It has nothing to do with me, or NCT as a whole.” He disclaims. “She’s studying abroad here for a journalist internship. She’s-”

“Get to the point,” I whisper, barely being able to hear him ramble on about her.

He places a kiss on the top of my head. “Everyone knew about Yong’s injury; the managers, the staff, even the stage crew noticed it.” I wince a bit at the thought of Taeyong having to deal with this kind of injury. “You were busy with studies and I didn’t want you worrying about me or the boys. I vented to Madison about it. She explained that she had ties to news sources that could have exposed SM for overworking him. So…” He sighs, “She threatened SM. Unless they gave us all a break or hiatus, she threatened to report it to national broadcasting stations.”

“Wait-” I interrupt him, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together in my head.

“Let me finish.” He cuts me off in return. “I wanted to treat her to coffee while she was still in town, as a thank you. Nothing more. Because of her, me and the boys were able to finally get a break and Taeyong is finally getting rest.” He explains.

im such a fucking idiot, i think to myself.

I was speechless, how could I have been this stupid. I finally built up the courage to look up at him; his eyes scanning my face for a reaction.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can mutter out in my state of embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. I promised to be transparent about this stuff and instead I hid it from you. I’m in the wrong too. I’m sorry.” He replies, softly. His hands trailed up and down my back.

I look into his eyes again, begging for forgiveness without saying a single word. He got the hint and leaned in to press a soft peck to my lips.

“I love you,” I said, my lips brushing against his as our foreheads rested on each other.

He smiles before kissing me back. “I love you, too.”

“So, she means nothing?” The sudden, whispered, inquiry was cold in the quiet air.

There was a pause, a moment that I nearly regretted asking.

“She means nothing.” He said, his voice was gruff and direct.

“Then prove it.” The words rolled off my tongue, and before I had time to think, Johnny’s lips were pressed back up against mine.

#johnnysuh #kpop #nct #nct127 #youngho #kpopangst #angst #this was gonna be smut but ??#i feel like the angst aspect is 10x better #unless a smutty pt 2 is needed #hmmm😏😏#ponderinggg #johnnyangst #nct angst #this is veryyyy different from my normal writing style so i hope its not too #...#bad

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pengychan · 3 years

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[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt 24

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[All chapters up are tagged as ‘fake priest au’ on my blog.]

A/N: the problem with Ernesto’s murderous plans is that they tend to only have a 50% success rate. Art is by @lunaescribe and @swanpit

***

“... And you killed how many Villistas?”

“Ah, I lost count. At least thirty.”

“Five, more like!”

“Shut up! Maybe some were just wounded, but I killed no less than twenty of Villa’s bastards, at any rate.”

“Sí, sí, and then you wounded Pancho Villa himself. One would think that with such a warrior among us, getting through the Zapatistas on our way here would have been a child’s play. I didn’t see you hit a single one. Did you forget how to shoot in the meantime?”

“Ah, shut up. They fought better, is all. Everyone knows Zapata and his followers are twice the mad dogs as everybody else, and I did hit one!”

“Your own shoe doesn’t count, pendejo.”

“Shut your mouth!”

“You’re so full of--”

As an argument broke out, Héctor watched Gustavo sigh and fall back a few paces with his horse. His attempts at buttering up the soldiers to get any sort of useful information had amounted to nothing, when they hadn’t straight-up started an argument like that one. The only question he was able to get a real answer to was why Commander Hernández hadn't allowed them to spend the evening and night in Santa Cecilia before setting off.

“Ay, he won’t hear of it,” a soldier had replied. “He heard of a battalion that was decimated like that - they stayed in a village overnight, but turns out it was chock-full of traitors and they called their friends in during the night, and the men were slaughtered before they could grab a gun. So he’s paranoid about that.”

The expression that crossed Gustavo’s face for a moment, that of a man who just sucked on a lemon, had been enough to tell Héctor that was very much something he had hoped to pull off in Santa Cecilia. Unaware of that, the man - “call me Chucho”, he had said - had added: “It’s a myth if you ask me, more likely all of them just got sick of this shit and deserted.”

“Can’t blame them,” someone had muttered only a couple of paces behind Héctor, only to be immediately shushed by no less than ten of his comrades.

“Shut up, idiota!”

“You want the commander to nail you to a telegraph pole or what!”

“He’s off ahead scouting anyway,” the man had muttered, and promptly fallen in a sullen silence. Morale was low, Héctor had quickly realized; he had been aware of the fact the war was not going all that well for the Federal Army, but this was the first time he saw its effects on the troops. All things considered, he got the distinct feeling most of those men didn’t want to be there a hell of a lot more than Ernesto had.

Only that Ernesto had seized his moment to escape, and they were still stuck.

“-- shoot that cigarette off your mouth from a hundred paces, and if you don't believe--”

“Amazing, think you can hit the men attached to the cigarettes every once in a while, too?”

“If what you're asking is a bullet through your brain--!”

“Brain might be a big word there…”

“Shut your mouth, Nachito!”

As the argument continued, Héctor did his best to tune it out and reached into his saddle bag for the water. They had been warned the water rations were scarce and he had been trying not to drink too much, but they had been riding under the sun for hours, he’d been sweating half his body weight, and there seemed to be no moisture left in his mouth. At least the sun was starting to get lower at the horizon, evening not too far away.

Héctor wondered how they’d spend the night. Would they make camp? Just sit around fires, rifle in hand, and try to shut their eyes for a few hours before they kept marching on? Surely someone would stand guard, were the revolutionaries really going to catch up as Gustavo seemed to think they would? Would there be a battle? How many would come? Or would they decided a few men off Santa Cecilia was not a big enough loss to bother--

“Water?”

“Huh?”

Héctor looked up to see a man riding next to him, holding out a flask of water. He seemed about his age, maybe a little younger, an attempt at a mustache on his upper lip and an uniform almost as ill-fitting as his own. He tried to smile, grimaced at the heat, and awkwardly avoided his gaze at the same time.

“You, uh. If you want water.”

“Ah. I’m getting mine, don’t worry. I don’t want to take your ration.”

“... Right,” the young man muttered, and kept riding by his side. Héctor took a couple of sips from his flask, just enough to make his mouth feel a little less like an entire desert had moved in, and glanced back towards the man. He seemed to hesitate, but as Héctor rather expected he finally spoke again. “So you are, uh, a novice?”

“I… I was, I suppose. I suspect leaving the parish to join the Federal Army means that’s going to lapse,” he said, trying to smile like the idea was funny. The man didn’t seem amused, and Héctor cleared his throat. “... My name’s Héctor, by the way.”

A nod. “Alejandro,” the man replied. “Look, me and the others - several of the others, we… I mean, back there, when the commander shot the gringo-- I mean, the priest, I would have never,” he finally blurted out, holding onto the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Ah.

Héctor had barely looked at Father John’s body on the cobblestones, focused as he was on the fact that man had Miguel, but the mental image had still been lingering in the back of his mind ever since they left. The pool of blood, the way it got into every crack, the sticky warmth of it through his robes when his knees hit the ground.

Some men had taken him away to get him help, he knew, and the Federales had allowed it, but Héctor had no idea if any help would even be possible. He was probably dead, for trying to reason with someone utterly unreasonable, for trying to save Miguel.

He found his martyrdom, at last.

Something in Héctor’s chest ached; the gringo was not a simple man to get along with, easy to despise and quick to judge, but he had tried to do the right thing and he did not deserve a bullet for it. Perhaps taking note of his pained expression, the young man fidgeted.

“Maybe God will save him,” he murmured, and swallowed. “I… we wanted to ask… do you think God will curse us for this? For shooting down one of His servants?”

Why ask me, Héctor almost replied, but then again it was the sort of question one would ask to a priest and he was the closest thing to one those men had at hand. Part of him wanted to believe God would indeed curse them, all of them, Huerta’s damn Federales - but as he looked around himself now, those men who’d seemed to terrifying looked so tired, dirty from days of travel, many of them young and probably wearing their uniforms no more willingly than he did.

How many had been taken the way they were in the first place?

“There is no mercy in war,” he remembered Ernesto saying when he was found out and they confronted him. “They die or you do. On and on, day after day, until you forget you’re looking at humans because it gets easier if you get that detail out of your mind.”

“... The Church says that as long as there is regret, all can be forgiven,” he found himself saying instead. Alejandro nodded, but he looked far from reassured and just fell silent as they rode on towards the top of a hill they were never going to get past.

***

“Those bastards were supposed to come through San Luz!”

Arms still aching and palms burning from the friction with the rope, Sofía made it down the belltower and to the churchyard just on time to hear the frustrated shout. Right before the church were maybe twenty men and women on horses, all of them armed, being filled in on what had happened by a few very confused bystanders who likely had no idea what was going on but were relieved that these new visitors were not Federales at least.

As Sofía approached with quick steps, the man turned his horse to face her. “Gustavo--” he began, and trailed off. He blinked. “... You’re not Gustavo.”

Sharp as a knife, this one. Nice to see we’re in good hands.

“Gustavo went with them. He told me to call for you,” she added, pointing up to the belltower, where the bell still swung slowly. “He said I should tell you to follow the trail.”

The man seemed taken aback, then he nodded. “Very well. What direction did they--”

“They took the road west, through the hills.”

Imelda’s voice rang out suddenly, causing several heads to turn. She was riding an aging horse that had belonged to her family for years, but that was not what made Sofía raise an eyebrow.

The robes were gone, replaced by a gown and a blouse, a belt at her waist with ammunition and the pistol they had taken from Ernesto’s room. Her head was uncovered, her jaw set; the man stared at her a few moments before he tilted his head in recognition.

“... Sister. I was hoping to meet you again in better circumstances than this.”

“José. You probably already gathered as much, but the Federales that took our men outnumber you, at least three to one. I assume you could use an extra pair of hands.”

“We could,” one of the women spoke up. She spurred her own horse closer to Imelda, a rifle slung over her shoulder. Her hair was braided back, showing a still healing cut on the side of her head. “How much practice did you get with that pistol?”

Imelda met her gaze. “Not much. I’ll have to hope what practice I could get will be enough.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Then I die. Not the first or last.”

The woman smiled. “Very well. We’ll need someone to tell us what men not to shoot, after all, in case Gustavo can’t,” she added, and turned to look back at the man she’d called José. At this point, Sofía suspected she may have been mistaken in her assumption he was the leader there. “They can’t have gone very far, with the supplies and carts they took. We can catch up with them. Gabriel, you and I go ahead to dispatch anyone guarding the back of the column. If we don’t take them by surprise we’re fucked.”

“Well, you heard her, everyone. Let’s get going!”

As they kicked the flanks of their horses to get moving, Imelda looked back, and her gaze met Sofía’s. “... Sister,” she said, “I should mention this marks the end of my novitiate.”

Something gripping her throat - don’t die out there, she wanted to say - Sofía managed a smile. Trying to talk Imelda out of her plan, she knew, would be absolutely fruitless. “About time,” she said instead. “Go take back your stupid fiancé.”

The smile Imelda gave was sharp, telling her clearly that she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Not that Sofía had doubted that even for a moment.

“You can be certain I will,” she said, and kicked the flanks of her horse, riding off.

“Ay, a novio,” one of the men muttered as he rode past. “And my heart breaks already.”

We had enough heartbreak as is for the day, Sofía thought, but said nothing. Instead she turned away from the galloping horses and let her gaze wander across the parish grounds. A few men were running off to grab what horses and hunting rifles they had and join the rescue party, but no trace of Ernesto. He’d returned, she knew, but no one had seen him since.

Where in the world is that idiota hiding now?

***

Following the trail left behind by the column of Federales - the imprint of hooves, the wheels of carts, the cigarette butts they left in their wake - was easier than finding gonorrhea in a brothel.

Well, at least Ernesto supposed it was; he wouldn’t really know, as he had never in his life had gonorrhea or needed to resort to a brothel for pleasurable company in the first place. His good looks and charm had served him well enough with men and women alike, as Juan could testify.

Except that Juan was dead, shot like a dog in the middle of the plaza, what little color he had on his face draining away along with the blood; Ernesto had not seen it happen, but he could imagine it all too well each time he closed his eyes against the merciless July sun.

Juan could never testify anything anymore, nor roll his eyes or start a lecture whenever Ernesto said something outrageous. He was far enough from Santa Cecilia that he could barely hear the bell anymore, but its toll was still ringing in his head, in every thudding beat of his heart.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

I want them dead.

Sweat dripped into his eyes and down his cheeks, or so he told himself. Ernesto kicked the donkey’s flanks to make the stupid animal go faster, the reins of the other clutched tight in his hand, and wiped his forehead, teeth clenched hard. He clung to his fury, allowed himself to bare his teeth in something resembling a smile as his gaze fell on the caskets of wine. Holy wine, plus a special ingredient courtesy of the parish’s old rat problem.

He would see them dead. He would see them writhe and suffer, and he’d let them know it was by his hand; Juan would probably disapprove, that stupid stuck-up gringo, but he was no longer there to talk him out of it. He was no longer there to disapprove of him, and someone had to pay for it. How gracious of God’s church to provide the means to make it happen. Perhaps it was his will, after all, and who was he not to help along divine will?

Todo modo para buscar la voluntad divina, Juan had said.

Todo modo. Todo modo. Todo modo.

Ernesto let the words echo in his head until they drowned out all noise from the bell, or perhaps it had stopped ringing, or he simply got too far for its sound to reach him anymore. He pressed on through the dusty path and up yet another hill until finally, finally, he saw it just below: a long column of men who were not long for that world. A few men at the back were looking up towards him, surely there to guard against rear attacks. But they saw no rebels there: only a priest, far more charming than the one they’d shot dead in Santa Cecilia.

Ernesto stared for a few moments, and finally let out a long breath, relaxing his frame. He wiped sweat off his face, opened his eyes, and smiled. A real smile, not a grimace; the easy, charming expression that got him in the good graces of men and women alike oh so quickly.

Who would refuse a blessing in those difficult times? Who’d turn away a friendly face? Who wouldn’t accept some holy wine to wash down the dust and dirt? With some luck, it would be the last thing they’d do before they got to confess their sins to San Pedro himself.

Good luck explaining away the murder of a man of the Church, Ernesto thought, and got the donkeys moving down the hill as quickly as he could. No turning back now, not anymore.

The thought did cross his mind for the briefest moment - what if they see through me, what if they recognize me - but it hardly even registered. At that point he was one deserter among thousands and he’d left his battalion as it headed north, with no plans to go back down towards Oaxaca. Chances any of those men came from his battalion were vanishingly thin, he thought, and to be fair he was almost entirely correct in that assumption. Just almost.

Ernesto de la Cruz kept clambering down the hill on top of his donkey, with the smile of a friendly priest eager to deliver a very special blessing to the heroes of Mexico.

***

He wasn’t there, either. The slippery bastard wasn’t anywhere.

Santiago kicked his horse’s sides again, hands clenching on the reins. He had gone off ahead, ostensibly to scout for any sort of possible ambush, but truth be told it was only an excuse to be alone with his storming thoughts for a time.

He already knew there would be no ambush: the idiots were still waiting for them in San Luz, or had given up waiting and were drinking themselves into a stupor, which was just as likely. A few more miles, and then they could circle back to take them by surprise in the middle of the night.He’d toyed with the idea before, but it was not the current plan: he and his men were expected in Yucatan within days, which left them short on time.

But it was… tempting, nonetheless.

We could get some scum out of the way. And maybe de la Cruz is hiding there, or passed by. Someone might know something. Someone might talk.

Santiago closed his eyes and lifted his head, letting the sun beat down on his face. It had been a scorching hot day when he had found Alberto’s body, too, shot in the back of the head and left to feed carrion birds by the monster who’d greeted them that morning with a smile before they went off on patrol together.

It should have been Santiago out on patrol with Ernesto de la Cruz that day. It was his turn; it should have been him to fall face down in the sand with his brains blown out. But he’d pulled a muscle in his back the previous evening, riding felt like having hot rods pushed into his spine, and Beto had offered to take my place.

Said I owed him a drink. What wouldn’t I give to pay back that debt.

Monster, the gringo had called him. What sort of beast, he had said, but the idiota knew nothing of monsters and beasts that must be put down for everybody’s safety. He, at least, didn’t feign friendliness. He didn’t hide behind a smile. He warned before he shot, stated his terms and delivered on his promises.

If it made him a beast himself, very well; perhaps he was. Perhaps trying to take the child had been a step too far - but he’d sooner be a lion than a snake hiding in the sand.

I cannot turn back anymore. No way to go but forward.

But first, San Luz. If he’s there, I’ll smoke him out.

Santiago Hernández stopped his horse on a rocky outcrop and reached into the saddle bag to pull out his map, so he could work out the best route back for a quick attack. He opened it and studied it under the merciless sun, waiting for his men to catch up

It took him a while to realize it was taking them much too long.

***

“Oye! Come here!”

“There’s a priest!”

“We’re getting blessed, muchachos!”

“And we’re getting wine!”

“... Huh?”

As word travelled fast up the column, causing men to halt their horses and turn, Héctor glanced around in confusion. He looked over at Gustavo, but he seemed about as lost as he was at the notion of a random priest walking into marching Federales to offer blessings and wine. Where did he even--

“He says he’s the parish priest of the hole we just left,” someone added, and Héctor’s blood ran cold, something clenching in his stomach.

No, no, no, no. What is he doing here? They were looking for him. They’ll kill him.

“Padre Ernesto?” Francisco, a young cobbler who’d been taken with him that day, blurted out. Sidling up to Héctor, Gustavo elbowed him in the ribs.

“What’s going on?” he growled under his breath. “Why is he here, and why did you get almost as pale as the gringo just now?”

“I…” Héctor swallowed, unable to force words out. Gustavo didn’t know, and this really was not the time to explain him everything. He needed to get to Ernesto immediately, warn him to get away while he still could, so he ignored Gustavo’s questions and spurred his horse to go back, towards the end of the column. The men there were already starting to gather, dismounting their horses… and passing around caskets of wine.

Héctor braced himself for the moment someone would cry out in recognition and every man present would turn against Ernesto, but there was no such cry; the men were none the wiser as they talked and laughed, took the wine and kept gathering, all semblance of order gone.

Above all, Héctor heard a familiar voice.

“... And once I realized I had entirely missed your arrival, well, I had to catch up with you,” Ernesto was saying, all charm and smiles as he helped unload the caskets of wine. “I couldn’t let my parishioners leave to serve this country without giving them my blessing, you understand. And you, of course, it is the least I could do - careful there, it’s heavy…”

It was like an impromptu party, but it was soon clear not everyone was simply in the mood to celebrate. Héctor did his best to approach, but he got knocked back by several men gathering around Ernesto.

“Padre!”

“Can we have your blessing, Padre?”

“I have not had confession in months--”

“Haven’t heard from my family since March, I don’t know if they are well, pray for them--”

“What happened to that other priest-- the gringo, we did not--”

“Our commander lost his temper, a man of God, I would have never--”

“We would never--”

Ernesto turned to the men, and his smile wavered for only a moment. But then it was back, full of understanding. “... Padre Juan was a man of principle who did not always know when to hold his tongue, but he is with God now,” he said, and Héctor’s stomach sank. So he hadn’t made it. He was dead, and Ernesto showed no sign whatsoever of being affected.

“His soul is safe, and I know he would want me to take care of yours,” Ernesto was going on, and he lifted his hand to impart a blessing, speaking loudly to be heard by all. He spoke in near-perfect Latin John Johnson would have been proud of, giving everyone present absolution before crossing himself. Many of the men mirrored the gesture, relief plain on their faces. Alejandro was among them, looking close to tears.

The blessing done, absolution given, Ernesto smiled and spread out his arms. “Now, let us all drink the blood of Christ and--”

“Padre!” Héctor finally cried out, pushing his way to the front, and Ernesto’s gaze turned on him. His smile grew even wider.

“My child!” he cried out, and pulled him into an embrace. “Ah, what a relief, having reached you on time to absolve your sins and give you the Lord’s blessing!”

Face smashed against Ernesto’s shoulder, Héctor barely managed to whisper. “What are you doing--” he began, only for Ernesto to turn his head and almost snarl into his ear, his voice so full of seething fury it made Héctor’s heart skip a beat in his chest.

“Saving your scrawny ass so I can kick it myself. Don’t drink the wine, none of you. Tell the others.”

“Wha-- Ernesto, wait, they’re--”

“Not a drop,” Ernesto hissed, and pushed him off before anyone realized they had spoken to one another, patting his shoulder with a laugh. “Go to the others, tell them they have my blessing and that the parish will look after their families,” he added, and before he could add another word Héctor was almost ejected from the small crowd, reeling.

What does it mean? What has he done to the wine?

He looked around to see Alejandro taking one of the opened caskets, saw the wine flowing and men drinking. Héctor wanted to stop him, tell him not to - he was not a bad person, he could tell; many of them were not bad people - but he knew he couldn’t do so without alerting them all, and in the end he had to back away.

Guilt twisted in his gut, but he knew he had to ignore it and move quickly. The wine was being passed around so fast, and he had to warn Gustavo and the others not to drink it before it got to them. Regardless how tempting it was not to tell Gustavo, of course.

No one has recognized him. Maybe it will be all right. Maybe whatever plan he has is going to work. Maybe it will make them pass out, no one needs to die, Héctor thought, and with one last glance towards Ernesto - he was positively holding court now, men around him laughing at something he said or crossing themselves and asking for a prayer - he ran back to where he left the others from Santa Cecilia, trying to reach them before the wine could.

Whatever Ernesto had done with it, he knew none of them wanted to find out the hard way.

***

What got Santiago to lift his gaze from the map and realize his men really should have caught up by now was a very distant sound, one he did not recognize at first. He put away the map with a frown, focusing, and for a moment he thought what he heard were distant screams. It made his blood run cold and his hands clench on the reins.

Had his men been attacked? Could it be? Was there an ambush - had he walked right past the enemy without realizing as much? Heart hammering in his throat, Santiago spurred his horse to trot back, straining to listen… and finally he realized what he was hearing were not screams.

Well, they kind of were, but those were no cries of distress; there was a rhythm to it, all voices rising up together and then falling, then rising again, like… singing? Was that bunch of idiots singing at the top of their lungs?

Have they all gone mad?

Stunned and furious at the same time, Santiago kicked his horse’s flanks to spur it into a gallop back the way he had come. He knew those men’s discipline was almost non-existent, but that was ridiculous. He would see them punished for it, he’d make them march through the night, he--!

Insortaron a Cortez Por toditito el estado: "Vivo o muerto que se aprehenda Porque a varios ha matado!"

Soon he was close enough to hear the words and, after turning a bend, he could see that the sorry excuses of soldiers he’d been leading were off their horses and standing around or sitting in the dirt, drinking and singing like they were off duty in a damn cantina.

He opened his mouth to shout at them, demand to know what was going on in their empty heads, but another voice rose up loud and clear and Santiago’s own voice died in his throat.

Decía Gregorio Cortez Con su pistola en la mano: "No siento haberlo matado Al que siento es a mi hermano..."

He knew that voice; he heard it before in the barracks, at campfires, whenever a comrade picked up a guitar. He never missed a chance to sing, turning each break in a performance.

Alberto had found it endearing; he’d found it annoying. Now it made him feel as though the sweat on his skin had turned into frost.

Still atop his horse Santiago turned slowly, very slowly, towards the source of that voice. He had not expected the priestly robes, and he’d had a beard when he’d last seen him, but he would recognize that despicable face anywhere; he’d dreamed of it almost every night, grinning down at him as he kneeled over Beto’s body.

And now he was there.

How or why he had come to be there, let alone in a cassock and singing along with his men as they guzzled down wine, Santiago had no idea nor he cared to know. All that he knew, all that mattered, was that he was there within his grasp, and that he would never escape again.

Santiago Hernández bared his teeth, and reached for the pistol at his hip.

***

BANG.

The gunshot was distant, reverberating through the hills, impossible to mistake for anything else. It made Imelda’s blood run cold, but she didn’t slow down; her horse was in full gallop, right at the heels of José’s own - which, come to think of it, looked an awful lot like Ernesto’s own missing horse - and she spurred it to go a bit faster, just enough to sidle with him.

“Was that one of yours? Did you prepare an ambush?” she yelled to be heard through the rushing wind and beating hooves, knowing full well what the answer was but still hoping against hope to get at least some explanation for the gunshot.

José shook his head, his expression grim. “No such thing. There may be insubordination among them.”

“Does it happen often?”

“All the time. But we’ll only know when we catch up,” he added, and spurred his horse again. Imelda could only follow, and hope for the best.

If he gets himself killed, she thought, I’ll have to kill him again.

***

The gunshot was deafeningly loud, and close enough to make Héctor cry out - him, and several other men - and the singing to stop abruptly. There were confused cries, men jumping on their feet and dropping their cups of wine to reach for their own guns, turning around wildly to find out who’d shot.

They didn’t have to look far.

“Ernesto de la Cruz.”

Still on top of his horse, pistol raised in the air, Commander Hernández stared at Ernesto with enough hatred to make Héctor tremble. He was vaguely aware of Gustavo and another couple of men from Santa Cecilia talking to him under their breath, asking what the hell was going on, but Héctor was unable to speak, dread gripping his throat.

He found him. It’s over.

He wanted to cry out for Ernesto to run, to do something, but there was nothing for him to do and he could only stand there, staring in horror. Ernesto had stilled, realization beginning to dawn on him that he’d been recognized, and that he was trapped.

The soldiers around him were not quite as quick to grasp the situation. “What--”

“Commander, we, uh, can explain--”

“Shut up, all of you, and seize that traitor!”

“... Sir, that is Padre--”

“That’s no more a priest than I am, idiots! It’s the deserter we’ve been looking for!” the man screamed, and leaped off his horse, pistol still in his hand. “ SEIZE HIM, I SAID!”

“Qué?” Gustavo blurted out somewhere on Héctor’s right, and it seemed that sentiment was prevalent among the Federales as well, most of whom kept staring at their commander as though he’d suddenly started speaking Portuguese.

Then Ernesto tried to run, and all hell broke loose.

Héctor had gone hare hunting once, out of sheer curiosity, watching from the sidelines and not really doing much. The pack of dogs, all of them friendly mutts, had seemed comically clumsy, wagging their tails and snuffling about, seemingly more interested in playing than hunting… until a hare had burst out of its hiding spot to run away, and suddenly the entire pack had pounced. The chase had been brief, the screams unbearably loud, the outcome bloody, and Héctor had felt queasy as the owner of the dogs lifted the prey, grinning from ear to ear while his dogs went back to goofing off.

“This,” he had said, “is why you never try running before even the dumbest dog pack.”

Now Héctor watched Ernesto make the same mistake, and again the dogs pounced as one. The hare had no chance of escape that day, and neither did he now.

“STOP HIM!”

“Got him, I got him!”

“Get your hands of me, hijos de--”

“Agh! He bit me!”

“Get him over here!”

If any of the soldiers had doubted Commander Hernández’s words and still believed him a priest, Ernesto thrashing and screaming insults to their entire lineage - through the flea-ridden Spaniards who’d forced their way between their great-great-great-great grandmothers’ thighs and all the way down to the Garden of Eden - probably took care of it.

As Héctor stared, petrified and not knowing what to do, he was dragged in front of the commander and forced on his knees, arms behind his back. Hernández put the pistol back in its holster, walked up to Ernesto, and grabbed a fistful of his hair to force his head back.

He gave a cold, too-wide smile that still did not reach his eyes and said something Héctor could not hear. Ernesto’s scowl turned to shock for a moment, and then his features twisted in fury. He screamed and tried to rise up to throw himself at Hernández, almost made it, but too many men were holding him down and he was pushed back in the dirt. Orders were barked and they began dragging Ernesto away from the rest of the still confused soldiers, off the path and towards a small grove of trees and shrubs. One of the men carried a long rope.

They'll see me hang, Ernesto had told them after being unmasked, and God, he'd been right. “No, wait!” Héctor cried out and tried to run, but something gripped his arm, pulled him back.

“Stay here, idiota,” Gustavo hissed, his grasp on Héctor’s wrist tight enough to cut off the blood flow. He glared. “Won’t let you become a martyr on my watch, you’re insufferable enough as is. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it. Did you know about him?”

“I can’t let them kill--”

“Did you know!” Gustavo barked, and Héctor fell silent, his expression probably speaking volumes. Gustavo groaned, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. “A Federale right under my nose and I never knew. Por Dios, José is never going to let me hear the end of it...”

“Gustavo, let me go, we have to help him--”

“Help is coming, idiota. Stay here.”

“But--”

“Help is coming,” Gustavo repeated in the forceful way of a man trying to will something into reality. “At least that damn liar delayed their march. Any moment now--” he trailed off when a sudden noise reached their ears amidst the confusion and exclamations, harsh and unmistakable - retching. Soon followed by another such sound, and another. And another.

One by one, the men around them began looking very, very sick.

***

“Let me go! Let me go, you bastards--!”

Ernesto’s insults got him precisely nowhere, and his attempt at fighting off the men dragging him away was about as useless. Too many of them, too strong, his wrists already tied behind his back before they shoved him on his knees in the dirt before the cabrón who had somehow recognized his face.

When said cabrón stepped forward and grabbed his hair to yank his head back, Ernesto clenched his teeth to hold back a cry and glared up at him. Who was he? Dimly he knew he must know him, he looked vaguely familiar - something about the mustache, the unusually thin bridge of his nose - but he still could not put a name to the face the way that bastard had somehow put a name to his.

Unaware of his thoughts, the man sneered. “Ernesto de la Cruz - so the rat comes out in the open at last. What’s the reason for this masquerade? Did you think these robes would save you? They will not. I shot down a true priest today. Or was the gringo an impostor, too?”

Our commander lost his temper, one of them had said.

That beast pulled out his pistol and… and… ay, I told you, he knows no God. To shoot a man of god like an animal!

YOU TOOK HIM AWAY!

With a wordless scream, Ernesto strained against the men holding him down, against his bounds, wanting nothing more than putting his hands around the man’s neck and choke the life out of him. He almost managed to stand, but the weight of several men was too much and he was thrown back down in the dirt.

“You, take him and follow me. Rojas, get enough rope to hang this bastard. Quick.”

“Yes sir.”

No no no no no!

Ernesto struggled, but to no avail. Bound and overpowered, he was easily dragged away from the path by the small group of men - towards shrubs and trees, where they could hang him by the neck and leave him to feed carrion birds. They would not give him a clean death, he knew. No fall, no broken neck. They’d string him up and… and…

“Let me go!”

“Oh, as you wish.”

The men threw him down on the ground, and with his hands tied there was nothing sparing his face a painful impact. Ernesto ground his teeth to stifle a cry, only for that cry to be forced out of him when a kick in his side threw him onto his back. A knee pressed on his chest and the man leaned down, all his weight on Ernesto’s sternum.

When is the damn poison going to work?

Maybe the parish got scammed and that wasn’t poison at all. Wouldn’t that be a laugh, a fake priest dead thanks to fake poison.

As he struggled to breathe, Ernesto blinked a few times to clear his vision and looked up. Seen up close there was something startling in the sheer hatred in the man’s gaze, and it caused Ernesto to still a moment. The soldier, John’s murderer, sneered once again.

“Tell me, traitor,” he all but snarled. “Do you even know who I am?”

Don’t make him mad, part of Ernesto’s brain said, but the rest clung to the hope the poison would start working soon. Make him waste time.

“Should I?” he spat. A fist connected with his face as soon as the words were out, causing his vision to swim. Blood ran down his face from a split lip, went down his throat. Somewhere above him he saw the rope being thrown up over a branch, one end already tied in a noose.

And then, before his eyes, the blade of a knife caught the sunlight.

***

He didn’t even recognize him.

Of all the ways Ernesto de la Cruz had wronged him, that somehow was the final straw, the worst possible slap to the face. He’d murdered his best friend since childhood and ran off, leaving him to obsess over revenge for months on end - unable to sleep without seeing his face or Beto’s body in the sand, or both - and now he dared say he didn’t even know who he was.

Ah, but he’d know. Before he died, when he allowed him to die, he would know.

“I know who you are well enough,” Santiago snarled, and pulled out his hunting knife. “A coward, a traitor, and a murderer. You’re a Judas, and you’ll die as Judas did - and everyone will know why!”

De la Cruz tried to squirm beneath him, still dazed by the blow but all too aware of the blade of his knife. Santiago sneered, held the knife to his throat, and watched him grow still. There was terror in his eyes, unmistakable, and he savored it like a sip from a bottle of fine wine.

“Ay, you’ll wish I made it this easy for you.” The blade slipped beneath his collar and ripped down through the cassock, baring his chest.

De la Cruz tried to squirm again, this time with more urgency, eyes wide. “Stop!” he rasped.

Santiago smiled. “Why? Have you recalled my name?”

“I have done nothing to you. I--”

“Liar. I should take an eye for that,” he snapped, and brought the tip of the knife’s blade to rest right beneath a widened eye, drawing the tiniest drop of blood from his skin. “Think again, you Judas. Think of the day you deserted. Someone was with you.”

“What…” Ernesto de la Cruz paused and finally, finally, Santiago saw his expression change - from terror and confusion to realization. Of course, that must have jogged his memory: the two of them had barely shared a few words, but he must remember Alberto. And wherever Alberto went, Santiago followed.

Until, of course, de la Cruz had sent Beto someplace where Santiago could not follow.

You took him away.

Something ached in his chest, and all of a sudden Santiago felt ridiculously close to tears. But he had him now. He would see him die, Alberto would be avenged, and he would finally feel better. He had to feel better. He could not contemplate feeling the way he did forever.

“Thiago,” de la Cruz choked out, and he scoffed. Of course, even now, the self-absorbed bastard couldn’t be bothered to remember anyone’s name.

“Santiago,” he snapped, and leaned in so close their faces almost touched, pressing the blade a little harder on Ernesto’s skin and causing another pinprick of blood to well up. “But it matters not. You know whose name I want you to remember, sí? That of the man you killed.”

De la Cruz swallowed. “Alberto,” he managed. “I-- I didn’t want to kill him. I swear. I only wanted to get away, I couldn’t stand it anymore, I... he would have stopped me, he--”

“And so you shot him like a dog!” Santiago screamed, causing that disgusting coward to wince. He pulled back, knees still pressed against his sternum, keeping him pinned down. The grip on the handle of his knife was so tight it ached. And he even had the galls, this bastard, to lecture him for shooting a gringo!

“You left him dead to feed scavengers, and you really thought I would let it stand! You really thought I wouldn’t hunt you down like the beast you are! Tell me, did you kiss him the way Judas kissed Christ when he betrayed him?”

A shudder beneath him that may have been a sob. “P-por favor--”

“Oh, you’re begging now?” Santiago gave a loud, ugly laugh, and pressed the blade against Ernesto de la Cruz’s chest. “Very well, traitor. Go on and beg,” he said, and began to cut.

He did beg, but only for a few moments. For a good while, all he could do was scream.

***

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#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #hector rivera #imelda rivera #coco #fake priest au

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ifistoptherain · 3 years

Text

Star Crossed Lovers, a TsukkiYama fanfic

You can buy me a ko-fi here. You can read this on AO3 here.

Yamaguchi gets approached by Johzenji's captain, Terushima Yuuji to go on a date and Tsukishima Kei gets jealous. It looks like two alphas have their sight on Yamaguchi, how will he choose?

Karasuno wins against Johzenji. The adrenaline and happiness surging through Tadashi’s body is incredible. They can keep playing! It’s smiles all around as Daichi yells at them to line up and they all bow.

Playing against Johzenji was fun. The energy that that team brought to the game was wild and unpredictable, different from the other teams that would strategize every move. As usual, Hinata had the most fun, his happy pheromones flooding the court with the scent of oranges.

He’s packing up his things, with Tsukki right next to him when the Johzenji captain approaches.

“Pinch server-kun, will you go out with me?”

He’s stunned. He can feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. Nothing has happened with Tsukki since their presentation and he’s tired of waiting. Maybe a bit of jealousy would be the exact push Tsukki needs.

He nods, holding out his phone to get his number. Terushima grins and walks away. And if Tadashi was to be honest, he’d been wondering how a tongue piercing tastes throughout the match. (Tadashi was really glad he always wears scent blockers, no way he’d be able to explain why his pheromones were horny. Actually, he could. Terushima was totally his type and it didn’t look like he was looking for anything too serious.)

He looks down at his phone. “Terushima Yuuji.” Yuuji? It means playful child, how fitting. He smiles at his phone and adds a heart emoji to his name. His heart is fluttering right now.

“So you’re going to go out with him?” Tsukki asks, expression unreadable.

“Yup, why are you jealous?” Tsukki shakes his head, muttering something about being careful.

“He seems nice, and I like how he smells.” For someone so wild, Terushima smells like vanilla. How ironic.

Just then, Yachi yells at them and they head to their bus. He’s honestly really tired, a quick nap is just what he needs.

When he gets home, his mother immediately wrinkles her nose. “Why did Tsukishima scent mark you so aggressively?”

Tadashi shakes his head. “I have no idea, but today an alpha from another school asked me out, mom. I said yes!”

“Eh, I thought Tsukishima was courting you. You always smell like him. Are you sure you want to go out with someone else?”

“That’s what I thought too. I like him but he hasn’t initiated anything. I’m tired of waiting. Maybe a little jealousy will work?”

His mother punches him in the arm, “That’s seriously sly. Who taught you this behavior?”

“Like mother, like son.”

“Hey, I’m an innocent person! I bet you picked it up from your beloved Tsukki.”

“Moooommm.”

“Fine, fine, tell me all about this new alpha.”

“His name is Terushima Yuuji and he’s from Johzenji…”

When he checks his phone that night, there are no texts from Tsukki which was weird. So, instead he decides to text Terushima. He takes a selfie with his tongue sticking out, captioning “I wonder what a tongue piercing tastes like?” A bit flirty but Tadashi has been wondering.

He gets an immediate reply. Good, Tadashi likes attention. “Why don’t you find out this weekend?”

Tadashi: can i call you teru

teruteru <3: Only if i can call u dashi

Tadashi: then i should be calling you yuuji ◕ ◡ ◕

teruteru <3: You can if you want

teruteru <3: Who was the blond alpha? Would have burnt me to crisp with his glare D:

Tadashi: hes just my best friend

teruteru <3: You like him?

Tadashi pauses, unsure how to reply, admitting his feelings for Tsukki would ruin his chances with Terushima.

teruteru <3: Well im not looking for anyth serious anw

teruteru <3: I broke up with my ex a while back, we can be each others’ rebounds

teruteru <3: In fact riling up an alpha seems especially fun

Tadashi: u wanna watch a movie this sun?

teruteru <3: Sureeeee

Tadashi: ure definitely okay with dating for fun?

teruteru <3: Yupppp

Tadashi: by the way

Tadashi: ill be preheat then so :p

teruteru <3: fuckkkkkkkkk

It’s Thursday so Tadashi only has three days till his date.

They’re having lunch in class when he tells Tsukki that he’s meeting Teru on Saturday, only for him to get no reaction. Tsukki passes him his lunchbox. Tadashi’s mother is a single mother and she’s usually too busy to cook for Tadashi. Tadashi tries to cook when he can but most of the time he’s too tired from working part time at Shimada Mart and the Yamaguchi family ends up eating take out.

Stupid Tsukishima. If he didn’t like Tadashi, why would he constantly scent mark him and bring him a lunch box all the time? Honestly, Tadashi could ask Tsukki out. But, he knows Tsukki might say yes even if he didn’t have feelings for Tadashi, and Tadashi could just be overthinking Tsukki’s actions.

So, Tadashi wasn’t going to make the first move but he wasn’t going to wait forever either. He loves Tsukki but he knows that he deserves better than that.

The food is great. His lunches with Tsukki are the rare home cooked meals he gets. Curry rice always reminds him of his dad. But the sweet Japanese curries are different from the ones his dad used to make. Maybe, he should make something that his dad used to make. It’s hard to get Indian spices in Japan…

He really must drop by and thank Tsukki’s mum soon. Maybe with a gift?

“Hey Tsukki, should I get your mother a gift? She’s always helping me and my mum out. I feel bad.”

“No, it’s fine. But she did mention that she wanted to see you soon.”

“I’ll come by for dinner soon then.”

“You seemed sad?” He hadn’t even realised he had looked sad.

“I was just reminded of my dad. Thought I should make some of the food he used to make, maybe I’ll make some for mum.” His dad passed away a year ago. They’re okay with it now. Both his mum and him were able to brace themselves as he was sick for a while.

But, sometimes it hurts. Like someone twisted a knife in his heart.

Tadashi smiles. “It’s not a big deal, Tsukki.” It really isn't. Grief demands to be felt and there’s nothing you can do about it. It just makes him appreciate his time with his dad more.

“Is Aki-nii coming back this weekend? I think he mentioned something like that a while back.”

And immediately, Tsukki looks annoyed. “How does he have the time to text you and not me? I’m his brother.”

“Well, Tsukki. I’m the favourite, besides you ignore him all the time. Now, if I were to tell Aki-nii what you just said, he might text you more often.” He points his chopsticks in Tsukki’s direction.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.” He looks pointedly at him. “But… If you were more vocal in your affection, Aki-nii would reciprocate.” Tsukki better take the hint. Or maybe not, he would enjoy his date with Teru after all.

“By the way, I won’t be in school next week. Take notes for me, will you?” He can see the cogs turning in Tsukki’s brain.

“You’re going to be spending your pre-heat with Terushima? Just be safe.” Ugh. Tadashi could bang his head on the table. Will Tsukki ever get it?

“I will.”

“What do you think I should wear for the date? I was thinking something punk, Teru has those vibes. He might like it.”

Terushima picks him up, looking as punk as he could imagine, with a motorbike. Terushima looks great, the pants are tight, showing off his toned legs and bubble butt. The white tank top shows off his muscular arms through the sheer black top.

And Tadashi is really glad he went through his mother’s closet and picked out a leather jacket with spikes on it and borrowed Yachi’s choker. He’s wearing a t-shirt that he owns and skinny jeans.

“Terushima! You look good.”

“I thought you were going to call me Yuuji. And you look good too.” He holds out a helmet for Tadashi to wear.

“Only if you call me Tadashi.”

“Okay, Tadashi, hop on.”

Yuuji clearly has a need for speed. Tadashi thinks it's a ploy to get him to hold onto the alpha’s waist tightly. It works.

The wind also blows Yuuji’s pheromones right into his face. It’s a bit intoxicating, he hasn’t been in such close parameters with an alpha before.

Yuuji pays for everything, of course Tadashi offers to pay but it's an empty offer. There is nothing sexier than a capable alpha, it makes him feel like he would be well taken care of.

The movie bores Tadashi out of his mind so he leans into Yuuji. Nuzzles his face into Yuuji’s scent glands. He likes how Yuuji smells. He smells so sweet, a bit sugary like Tadashi could eat the alpha up. It’s a fun thought.

His preheat was making him just a bit more horny than usual. After a few minutes of nuzzling, Yuuji looks him in the eye.

“You smell spicy, it’s rare.” Yuuji sucks at the skin of his neck.

“I’m half indian.” Tadashi is pretty sure what someone smells like depends on the food they ate as a child. Huh, maybe Yuuji ate a lot of vanilla ice cream as a child.

He bites the sensitive skin of Tadashi’s scent glands, sucking on it and Tadashi can’t suppress the moan.

“Be quiet, omega.” Tadashi knows that Yuuji knows that the two of them are probably the only two left in the movie theatre.

“Make me, alpha.” Yuuji’s eyes almost seem to glow as he immediately closes the gap between their lips. He pushes Tadashi onto his back, who promptly wraps his legs around the alpha’s waist. His lips are rough, a bit dry. He tastes like the cheap, buttery popcorn they had earlier. Tadashi’s tongue runs along Yuuji’s tongue piercing, it doesn’t taste like anything really.

His hands are on Tadashi’s back, but one is creeping up his shirt. They stop making out for a moment and Tadashi takes off Yuuji’s shirt. Meanwhile, Yuuji pushes up Tadashi’s shirt, tongue dragging along his chest, sucking on the nipples. The metal feels cool against his skin.

Meanwhile, Tadashi feels up Yuuji’s muscular arms. He’s so strong...

“Fuck, you smell so fuckable.” He’s back to nosing at his scent glands and sucking on that skin. Tadashi lifts his hips up, gyrating against Yuuji’s crotch. They’re both hard, Tadashi notices with satisfaction.

Yuuji stops for a moment and Tadashi whines.

“Your heat’s starting soon, let’s leave.” Ugh. It would only start tomorrow so why couldn’t he enjoy his time with Yuuji?

“Yuuji, I don’t want to…” He leans away, getting up. Deep down, Tadashi knows he’s right. He pulls Tadashi up by the arm.

Yuuji leads them out and Tadashi follows, clinging onto his arm. Tadashi does feel slightly light headed now that he thinks about it. Yuuji is awfully quiet and Tadashi’s pretty sure they’re speeding. It must take a lot of focus to deny an omega almost in heat. At least, wrapping his arms around Yuuji is nice.

When they arrive, Yuuji pushes his shirt into Tadashi’s arms.

“For your heat.” Tadashi plants a very chaste kiss on Yuuji’s lips.

“Thanks for today, Yuuji.”

He hears the motorcycle rev off, once he’s closed the door behind him. He’s sweet and respectful, isn’t he?

“I’m home!” He says to no one in particular, his mum must have picked up an extra shift at the bar again.

He’s alone again. Yuuji just left and he misses him terribly. There’s probably an hour left until his heat actually hits.

Tadashi: thanks for today

Tadashi: drive safe

teruteru <3: :D

He had already built his nest and stocked his room with water in advance. Or maybe his mum had put the water bottles in? He doesn’t remember.

Tadashi: tsukkkiiiiiii

Tadashi: he has a motorcycle! a motorcycle!!

Tadashi: the movie we watched was super boring but

Tadashi: yuuji was really sweet i think i could fall for him

Tadashi: but hes not looking for anyth too serious

The messages show up as read but Tsukki doesn’t reply because when does he ever. There’s a meal in the fridge, some take out his mum probably got from work. He climbs into his nest on his bed, after dinner. AC on blast, heats could get so hot and so sticky.

During his heat, Tadashi imagines not just Tsukki’s long fingers but also Yuuji’s firm but gentle touches and his playful bites.

It’s Thursday afternoon and Tadashi’s heat is mostly gone. It’s just a dull ache in his bones now. Yuuji’s poor sheer shirt has been desecrated. Tadashi handwashes it, and then sends a pic of him wearing it with nothing below to Yuuji. Also, Yuuji’s hickies hadn’t faded in the 4 days since then.

Tadashi: (*^^*) the hickies still havent fadedddd

teruteru <3: I like to show off my work~

teruteru <3: Besides, I didn’t hear complaints at the time~~

Tadashi: (*^^*)

He definitely had been in pre heat then because he hadn’t noticed how aggressive Yuuji was. The hickeys hurt if he touches them. Yuuji’s aggressiveness was sexy actually.

He’ll probably have to put makeup on them when he goes to school. But it's only Thursday and he’d probably ditch on Friday anyway so hopefully, it would fade before next Monday.

Tomorrow, he has a morning shift at the convenient store nearby and then an afternoon shift at Shimada mart.

tsukki <3: is ur heat over?

Tadashi: mostly but ill be working tmro, keep taking notes tsukki!

He’s been leeching on Tsukki a lot actually, from notes to food.

Tadashi: u wanna practise volleyball with me tmro? ill teach u the jump float serve

teruteru <3: YESSSS

He takes the rare opportunity to cook himself and his mum a meal. She usually leaves in the late afternoon for work and arrives in the wee hours of the morning. But the upside to those working hours was that Tadashi got to spend time with her during the day. If she had the typical working hours, the both of them would be too tired to talk.

He just makes omelette rice. It’s simple and he’s still worn out from his heat. After dinner, he studies the school work he had missed. He knows Yuuji isn’t looking for a serious relationship but he can’t get past the what if. But he knows that's unfair to Yuuji since he still likes Tsukki. Tsukki with his golden hair and golden eyes and kind words reserved only for Tadashi, makes him feel special. They’ve been friends for years, Tsukki knows him like the back of his hand. It’s comfortable and he knows Tsukki will always be there for him but with Yuuji it’s different. It’s new and exciting and so great to finally be with someone who would do something about their feelings instead of just having Tadashi on the hook. But, part of him can’t shake the fact that somehow, deep inside him, he feels like he’s cheating on Tsukki. It’s ridiculous, really.

He’s just lucky his omega hadn’t decided that Tsukki was his alpha. Then, he would have been in a world of suffering by constantly pining. Actually, Tadashi does pine. He just knows he deserves better than that. In fact, he thinks his omega likes Yuuji more. That whore. Why else would his heat start early?

(He knows he’s calling himself a whore, shut up.)

The next day, work goes by slowly. So few people come in so Tadashi gets to play on his phone and text Yachi. He knows, knows, that Yachi has been dying to hear about his date. The only reason she hadn’t called was because she thought he was still in his heat. He calls her during lunch. He tells her all about how he’d been so respectful despite his heat starting early. Respectful alphas were so hard to come by. God. Yachi gushes how if he doesn’t end up being with Yuuji, he better give Yachi, Yuuji’s number. Pffttt. He’s excited to see Yuuji later.

His shift finally finishes, and he heads home to change into a t-shirt and gym shorts before meeting Yuuji. He’s in and out before he knows it. When he gets to the court, Yuuji is already there. Wearing a tank top again. Show off, he knows he looks good in tank tops doesn’t he?

“Yuuji.”

“Dashi.” He smiles, the instant he looks at Tadashi. He’s so cute. They play one on one volleyball for a while before he teaches Yuuji how to do the jump float serve.

By the time they're done, Tadashi is soaked in sweat. They are sitting next to each other, taking sips of water and Yuuji just seems to glisten under the yellow street lights.

“You know, I never did thank you properly the other day.” Yuuji’s eyebrows quirk upwards, smiles growing wider.

“Oh? How would you like to thank me?” He brings his face closer to Tadashi’s.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and find out?” He whispers into Yuuji’s ear. Immediately Yuuji takes the opportunity to bite his neck. What was with him and Tadashi’s neck?

“Not here, Yuu-” He licks Tadashi’s scent glands before stopping.

They get up and Yuuji looks like the cat that got the cream.

They get on his bike and Tadashi manages to persuade him to forego the helmet. His place is only a few minutes away anyway.

He loves how the wind runs through his hair and he loves how he gets to hold Yuuji, basically feeling him up. He hooks his head on the side of Yuuji’s neck, getting a full blast of Yuuji’s pheromones. It’s heady and lustful, he’s clearly horny. Though Tadashi doubts he himself smells any different.

They get there in record time. Tadashi doesn’t know how they make it up to his room.

Yuuji is aggressive as usual but Tadashi stops him.

“It’s my treat, Yuuji. You can just enjoy.” Yuuji sits on the edge of his bed and Tadashi unzips his pants, pulling off his boxers. He begins by licking the dick from the base to the tip, taking his time to go slow, just to tease Yuuji. He then licks the tip repeatedly and hears Yuuji groan.

“Faster,” He moans. His hand grabs onto Tadashi’s hair, pushing his head forward. Tadashi swallows his dick whole. Head bobbing as Yuuji pants. Precum begins dripping from it and Tadashi laps it up, tongue swirling around the dick.

“No... you don’t have to,” Yuuji breathes out. Tadashi ignores him, moving faster and swallowing the cum when Yuuji comes.

Yuuji looks at him through hooded eyes and says, “Now it’s my turn to treat you.” He picks up Tadashi from the floor, placing him on the bed. And as usual, he begins by biting at Tadashi’s neck who was beginning to think that the alpha had a thing for Tadashi’s neck. Frickin’ vampire.

He begins to unzip Tadashi’s pants and he has the realisation that he doesn’t want this, not yet anyway.

“No, Yuuji, stop.” And immediately, Yuuji stops and lets Tadashi sit up.

“I’m sorry, I thought I wanted it but I don't. Not yet, anyway.” He plays with his hands not looking directly at Yuuji.

“You don’t have to apologise, as long as we are both comfortable. You wanna cuddle?”

And that’s how Tadashi ends up in Yuuji’s arms, although he’s taller and once again, Yuuji is nosing at Tadashi’s neck.

“What’s with you and my neck? You’re like a vampire.”

“I just love how you smell, it’s sexy. You mind if I scentmark you? ”

“No, go ahead.” And, Yuuji rubs his scent glands all over his neck and head and face. Possessive much?

“I know we said we won’t get too serious but I like you and I don’t want other alphas after you.”

“I like you too, Yuuji. Besides, there’s no one after plain old me.”

“What about blondie, you still like him, don’t you?” Tadashi stiffens.

“Yea maybe but I’m here with you not him, that counts for something right?” He hears Yuuji sigh, he feels sorry. He hasn’t completely moved on from Tsukki. Not yet, anyway.

“You wanna stay the night? It’s too dark for you to be driving out there… But you might have to deal with my mum in the morning.”

“I’ll stay, I get to hold a pretty thing all night anyway.”

When Tadashi wakes up the next morning, Yuuji isn’t in bed. But then, he hears laughter coming from downstairs. No, this is bad.

When he walks down after washing up, both Yuuji and his mom are laughing together.

“Mommmmm.” God, she had probably spilled all of his secrets already.

“Tadashi! You didn’t tell me that Terushima was so charming.” He narrows his eyes at her, shouldn’t she be asleep?

“I’m just heating up leftovers for the both of you and then I’ll go, I promise.” And to his horror, Tadashi finds a photo album of his baby pictures on the table. Nooooo.

“Mom, why’d you show this? I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, you looked very cute.” He punches Yuuji on the arm.

“Of course, you’re going to say that now and tease me about it later.”

“I won’t, I promise. I promise.” He says between laughter. God, he’ll never recover from the teasing will he?

True to her word, his mother disappears and they both sit down for breakfast.

“I’m sorry about my mum.”

“Hey, why are you saying that? She was really nice.”

They talk about nothing important, mainly volleyball during breakfast and also about how Yuuji was in the college prep class? What a contrast to his punk vibes.

Yuuji prepares to leave after breakfast, and Tadashi hands him back the sheer shirt he had lent for his heat.

“Yuuji, can I scent mark you?” Yuuji’s eyes light up, grin bright as the sun.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

“You sure it’s not going to affect the fake punk image you have going on? To smell like an omega?”

“It’s not fake, I am a punk!”

“A punk who is in college prep class.”

Tadashi stands in front of Yuuji who stands ever so still, waiting. He doesn’t move as Tadashi rubs his glands on the alpha’s face and neck.

“Done! Goodbye, Yuuji.”

“What? I don’t get a goodbye kiss?”

Tadashi shakes his head, he’s so stupid, and pulls Yuuji in for a kiss. Their lips part and Yuuji steps away.

“I’ll get going then.”

Tadashi holds onto his arm, “Do you have to?”, and pulls him into another kiss.

“I have to, I told my sister I’d help her with her homework.”

“Aww, the punk who wears leather and rides a motorbike helps his sister with her homework.”

“Hey! Besides, if I wasn’t leaving you wouldn’t kiss me so much.”

“One last kiss.”

Just then, there’s a knock on the door. It’s too early for deliveries, Tadashi thinks as Yuuji opens the door.

It’s Tsukki.

#Tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukkiyama #terushima yuuji #teruyama #haikyuu #fanfics #ao3 #alpha tsukishima #omega yamaguchi #alpha / beta / omega dynamics #ABO #alpha terushima

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Oh God

TimeTraveler!Son x Haikyuu!! Part 2

a/n: hehe i wouldnt put ‘x haikyuu’ if manager y/n ends up with that certain character. youll just have to,,,, wait for the end 😏

he didnt want to lie but he had to so he could survive

hinata offered his hand to help him up and natsu winced at the scratches and the slight headache as he stood on his two feet

‘you okay?’

hinata asked and natsu nodded

‘yea, just a headache’

natsu tried to play it off as cooly as he could bc this must’ve been from the car hit before and he couldnt just say he got ran over by a damn car

‘where do you live? i can go and treat your wounds there’

natsu was about to respond but he remembers hes not in tokyo anymore and he cant just spout out his address

so he did the thing his mom told him to do whenever it was necessary

he lied

‘i-um,,,’

he fumbled for an excuse but he sighed to maintain the act

‘i got kicked out’

he mumbled and hinata had to make him repeat it twice because he said it so quietly

the tangerine boy gasped and held his arms

‘what?! why?!’

natsu sniffled

‘my dad,,,, he just,,, doesnt want me’

well, that was actually true

so a true statement could equal that lie, right?

thankfully, hinata bought it and he grabbed his arm to walk forward while his other was pushing his bike

‘i hit you with my bike so the least i could do is take you to my house and treat you!’

and that was what they did

natsu’s phone was dead even though he was sure he charged it from denki’s powerbank during practice but it remained its black screen no matter how many times he hit the power button

his surroundings was also something unfamiliar

his mother only kept him in tokyo and never took him to go visit her family because she was kicked out and had to go live with her auntie when she found out about him and his father refused to help her

‘so, sendai, huh?’

he mumbled and hinata looked at him confused

‘sounds like youre not from around here. where you from?’

‘t-tokyo’

he replied and saw hinata’s eyes brighten

‘oh?! you look like youre my age so you must have been in a high school in tokyo, right? what school?’

‘yuuei’

‘hah?! yuuei?! what is that?!’

natsu rolled his eyes and shrugged

‘a school’

hinata persisted though

‘do you know other schools?! any other school friends?! like nekoma?! or fukurodani?!’

natsu shook his head and he was supposed to be happy that he got to meet, even talk, to his idol yet his younger self was much more hyper than his mellowed out behavior on tv

‘i stick to my friends from yuuei’

‘but what are you doing all the way here?’

natsu’s throat dried up and he watched his feet kick the pebbles to distract him of his urge to just whine and throw a tantrum with the confusion from this mess

‘i dont know’

he choked out and he was so tired and confused and all he wants to do is cry in his mother’s arms like he used to but she doesnt even know he exists

hinata sensed the tension and sadness from the boy beside him and tried his best to stay quiet until they get home

to say his mom was angry was an understatement

‘SHOYO, DONT YOU KNOW TO WATCH WHERE YOURE GOING?!’

‘kaa-san i was so angry and bakageyama was yelling at me and hit me and-’

‘THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU AN EXCUSE TO RUN SOMEONE OVER!’

natsu sat there on their couch awkwardly watching the black-haired woman yell at the human tangerine

he coughed in impulse and she turned away from her son and went to sit next to the h/c boy

‘dear, im so sorry for my son and his terrible biking. i didnt catch your name when you entered, what is it?’

even hinata forgot to ask his name but thats such a hinata thing to do though

natsu froze

if he was to say his mother’s last name, it would raise suspicion that he might know her in this time period and izuku has shown him enough doctor who to show him what happens when he messes up in time

again, he lied

‘kiri,,,shima,,, natsu. kirishima natsu’

he inwardly apologized to eijirou for using his last name

mrs. hinata raised a hand to her mouth with a surprised gasp

‘oh! my daughter’s name is also natsu! natsu, dear! can you come here for a second?’

natsu heard soft sounds from the stairs and she shyly walked down

‘come say hi’

she softly urged her daughter to come closer and the little girl ran to hide behind her older brother who gently smiled and held her hand

‘well, thats her. she just turned 10 a few days ago. look dear, kirishima-kun has the same name as you!’

she waved slightly and natsu felt his heart swell at the sight of the adorable little girl

his mother never really had time for relationships so he was an only child and never got to experience a sibling, only hearing the experience of having siblings from his friend, shouto

mrs. hinata placed a gentle hand on his arm to revert his attention back to her

‘shoyo told me what happened and im sorry that this is all happening to you’

he felt guilty at the sight of her sad eyes because this was all a lie but he knew if he told them the real reason, they wouldnt believe him

so he had to continue with the lie

‘everything was falling apart and i wanted to leave everything behind. so i just took the shinkansen to nowhere and ended up here’

mrs. hinata felt her heart tug because he was just a little boy and he was too young to experience this so she offered him something he shouldnt have agreed to but again, survival

‘you can stay with us in the mean time. our guest room has been collecting dust so you can live here’

‘what? no! i can’t!’

natsu instinctually turned it down because he hated people giving him charity

but the woman squeezed his arm to give him a smile

‘i will not allow a child to live in the streets because of something he couldnt help’

‘arent you worried youre inviting a total stranger in your home?’

but she gave him a knowing smile

‘im a mother. i can trust you, boy’

in exchange for board and food, he promised to get a part time job so he could pay her back and get out of their house as quickly as he could

shoyo led him to the bathroom upstairs so he could treat the wounds from the ground

natsu sat on the closed toilet seat while his literal idol was putting cream on his boo-boos

he still cant wrap his head with everything

maybe it was because he was so busy trying to come up with lies that he wasnt able to fully sit down and think about the fact that he just TRAVELED BACK IN TIME and could accidentally change it

‘shoyo, what year is it?’

he mumbled

‘2012′

he answered and natsu sighed but his head perked up

oh god

2012

thats a year away from 2013

the year he was born

that meant shoyo’s team manager was going to give birth to him next year

‘why? did you hit your head so far that you forgot?’

hinata joked but he paled when natsu didnt laugh

‘OH GOD DID YOU?!’

‘NO! AND STOP YELLING!’

natsu shouted, equally surprised

‘whew, thank god. again, im so sorry i hit you’

‘shoyo, dont worry about it, okay? im fine, i swear’

during dinner, mrs. hinata told him about his school situation

‘you can go to karasuno with shoyo. what year were you in?’

‘first’

‘perfect! shoyo is too so he could easily help you around the school!’

natsu nodded quietly, still out of it and his brain finally starting to accept this impossible reality

‘but i dont think i could help you with the entrance exams. im not the most-um-smartest, per se’

shoyo apologized but natsu already knew that

he was no extreme fanatic but he knew quite a lot about hinata shoyo, the player he watched during the 2021 olympics and the reason he started playing volleyball

natsu dreamed to join the msby jackals just like his idol did and eventually reach the national team like hinata did

it was during the olympics of 2021, he knew he wanted to be like him

this boy who sat next to him was the reason he came to love volleyball along with his other idol, oikawa tooru, from the argentina volleyball team after seeing that legendary match

when oikawa hit that service ace, natsu wanted to be able to receive that

he was merely 8 and his neighbor, midoriya inko, was babysitting him and she placed him and her son who was his friend, izuku, in front of the tv where they watched the olympics match

‘someday, ill be someone great. ill be great like him’

he promised and from then on, he worked to achieve that goal

‘natsu? hello?’

he was shaken from his thoughts as shoyo nudged him back to reality

mrs. hinata laughed

‘maybe you should head to bed early, dear. you must be tired after having a hard journey’

he nodded and was about to go and wash his dishes when she stopped him

‘no. go and sleep, ill take care of this’

‘i have to do my part in here, hinata-san. please, let me do this’

she finally agreed and he was scrubbing the plates when his mind wandered over to possible solutions on how he could go back

there was an episode that he watched with izuku that the character had to do something to go back

and he had a feeling that he would have to do the same thing

but what would that something be?

there had to be a reason he was thrown all the way in this time and it couldnt just be a coincidence that supposedly, this would be around the same time his mother would get pregnant

but who would it be?

he finished putting the plates on the drying rack and he felt really thirsty suddenly

opening the fridge, he found no water bottles and natsu had a very sensitive stomach so he couldnt drink tap water

his next favorite beverage was there and he pulled a glass from the cabinet

‘hinata-san, is it okay if i can have some milk?’

he called out and she shouted that it was okay

natsu poured the drink on his glass and started drinking it when hinata entered the kitchen and snickered at him

‘yknow, you remind me of my idiot teammate. none of my other friends drink straight milk except for him’

natsu placed the glass down and wiped his lips

‘chocolate milk make me sick and i hate the taste of flavoring in milk. but i just hate flavoring in general. except for gari gari popsicles, those are good’

natsu reasoned, watching hinata move across the room to get an apple

‘still ew. but come on! lets go to bed so i can show you around school early before practice tomorrow!’

natsu noticed his excitement by the way he bounced in place and he chuckled

it reminded him of his friends mina and denki

hinata led them both to his room so he could check his wounds again just to make sure

then something caught his eye

‘kirishima-kun you like volleyball?!’

that threw him off

partly because he wasnt used to being called by his friend’s last name

but also because of the question

‘huh? how do you know that?’

natsu asked, almost defensively

hinata shrugged

‘i saw your volleyball shoes in your bag’

hinata reasoned and excitedly pointed at them

‘you should play for us! im part of the team too! oh oh! what position do you play?!’

‘l-libero’

natsu stuttered out, slightly overwhelmed by hinata’s energy

hinata started circling him, inspecting his height and looking at him up and down

‘yanno, kirishima-kun, youre really tall. like much taller than the rest of my club. maybe not saltyshima but really!! youre so tall!!’

hinata whined in envy and natsu laughed

‘blame it on the paternal side of the family. my ma isnt really tall’

he laughs but then memories of his mother resurfaced and he suddenly felt gloomy, guilty, even, bc he doesnt know if time stopped there or it kept going and if so, shes probably worried sick

and he knew she was always one who blamed herself

hinata noticed his downcast expression and thought he probably remembers his dad and got sad since he got kicked out

so our baby sunshine freaked out and he frantically waved his hands around

‘oh no! gomen kiri-kun! gomen! i really didnt mean to make you think about him! gomen!!!’

he even bowed which surprised the h/c boy and made him stand back up

‘o-oi shoyo! dont! you didnt because i wasnt thinking about him!’

he fussed and patted hinata’s hair

‘i dont care about him. to be honest, there isnt much to think about’

he didnt think about what he said until he heard himself

natsu’s eyes widened, fearful of how hinata could take it but he flinched when the orange-haired boy’s eyes were filled with his own tears

‘OH NO!! KIRI-KUN!!!’

then launched another series of apologies and natsu had to calm him down

oh dear

it was early in the morning like 5 when hinata bursted into natsu’s room

the loud shout of shoyo made his eyes blink open and he groaned before turning to the side

‘come on, kiri-kun! we need to go to take your exam!’

‘nooooooooo’

‘yeeessssssss’

it was quite a battle for hinata to even just get natsu out of bed but he managed to bribe the latter with some milk bread from the bakery down the street

‘2′

natsu showed his two fingers and hinata sighed before nodding

‘yes. now go hurry so we can leave!’

dressed in his grey sweatpants and a yuuei sweatshirt, natsu cursed as he only has clothes good for 2 days and he didnt want to bother the hinatas so he was at a loss

mrs hinata bid the two boys good bye and natsu was yawning and dragging his body to walk while hinata was skipping over to his bike

then he finally realized the problem

he nervously looked at natsu and the taller boy didnt understand why he was looking at him that way

‘what?’

shoyo pointed at the bike and awkwardly smiled

‘uh,,, you see,,, i dont think youd,,, fit,,, at the back seat’

natsu shrugged

‘then ill bike. ive done it before’

he sauntered over to the bike and swiftly lifted his leg before testing out the brake handles

‘its good and better than mine back home’

‘a-are you-’

‘sit down, sho’

hinata gripped on to the back of natsu’s sweatshirt as he told him the directions to how to get to the school

natsu remembered watching an interview of hinata talking about his high-school life and he remembered the star player talking about his dedication to go to karasuno everyday for volleyball

and the boy couldn’t believe hes doing that right now, with his idol literally behind him, and driving to the legendary karasuno high school

from the jackals to the adlers and even some other teams like the frogs, natsu cheered for them

there was a memory of his mother sitting with him on their couch during one of her rare day offs as they rewatched the recorded copy of the olympics

it has become natsu’s favorite thing to watch

‘with great talent comes great hardships. people don’t become good overnight and i watched those people suffer through it all but look where they are now’

‘KIRISHIMA, WATCH OUT! COWS CROSSING!’

natsu was snapped out of his thoughts at hinata’s shout

then it morphed into pure and utter confusion

‘cows?’

shoyo laughed

‘since youre from the city, this must be a weird sight for you, huh? well, in the countryside, this happens a lot!’

but natsu didnt mind

in fact, he loved cows

he loved any farm animal in general

maybe it was his upbringing in the hustle and bustle of the city that he grew to love the countryside

shoto took him with his family to a trip to the country once and he remembered loving the smell of grass

they were able to do an activity in a farm where they worked in a rice farm and the peace and serenity was something he will always remember

his mother was lucky she grew up in a place like this

‘kiri-kun, ive been wanting to ask, how is your volleyball team in the city? are you a powerhouse?’

natsu felt pride bubble up in his chest

‘of course! we got second place in nationals!’

he boasted and blurted out before he could stop himself

then he felt fear

he shouldnt have said that because for all he knows, yuuei probably doesn’t exist at this time period

hinata had a different reaction and his eyes shone

‘WHAT?! WOAH! SO COOL! I HAVE TO TELL OUR CAPTAIN THAT WE’RE GETTING A POWERHOUSE STUDENT!’

‘uh-i-uh-’

natsu didnt know what to say because he had a feeling he definitely just did an oopsie

so he switched topics really quick to divert the attention away from his past

‘o-oi sho, once youre done being a pro volleyball player and stuff, we should have our own rice farm’

of course it was such a random idea but it distracted the orange boy

hinata shrugged

‘i mean,,, i have to be a pro first but i guess we can!’

‘hmm,,,, i dont think you have to worry about that’

.................................................

taglist:

@hartbeat-art @yakus-yakult @nerdyphantomlady @jollycowboysaladhero @cynicallychaotic

a/n: oh god this sat in my drafts for so long and i really dont know what im doing like i kinda have a rough outline of what im doing but im just going with the flow but i dont think the flow is quite flowy

145 notes · View notes

hyunjinssmile · 4 years

Note

Hi I love your writing so much! Can you please do a cockwarming with Chan when he’s playing games?

I got a little carried away.

——

With the introduction of new quarantine rules, Chris had alot more free time, and often swapped his work computer for his gaming PC, soft LED lights changing colours every now and again.

‘No no no- Felix- right, theyre rushing right-!’

He sounded stressed, his arms flexed as his fingers moved over the keys, his shoulders tensed as he leant toward his computer.

You couldnt help but watch his figure from the bed, your phone quickly becoming less interesting as he groans out in annoyance, something that turned you on way more than it should have.

‘Fuck!’ He groaned again, causing a pout to fall onto your lips. His shirt that you had been wearing all day rose up on your thighs as you tried to move around, panties now wet.

It was getting rather uncomfortable where you sat, heat spreading through you as you imagined those groans again.

You couldnt help yourself as you made your way off the bed, your sock clad feet near silent as you snuck up behind his chair, his attention completely on the game. This was going to be a perfect time to make your usually quite soft- dom boyfriend, a whiney mess.

When you came into his view, a smile broke out onto his face, one hand coming around your waist to pull you into a soft kiss, before he looked back on the screen.

He muted his mic for a moment, wondering what you were doing, before his question was stuck in his throat, as you dropped to your knees.

‘Baby?’ One of his hands came to cup the side of your cheek, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

‘Just wanna feel you’ you replied, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

He couldnt help but to groan at that, shifting in his seat so his legs were wider, allowing you to shift in closer to him, your hand palming over his growing bulge.

You unzipped his jeans, taking him out of his boxers before his cock was hard before you, your hand rubbing it slowly before you pressed a kiss to the tip, recieving a hiss from the male above you.

He looked distraught as you rose to your feet again, but quickly went to take his headset off as you dropped your panties from below your shirt, one of your hands pulling his headset back over his ears as you kissed his neck softly, straddling his hips on his gaming chair before letting him slide one headphone off.

You pressed your wet core to his member, making him groan softly before you whispered into his ear,

‘I want you to keep playing baby’

The boy smirked, his face tinged pink, however he was glad you couldnt see it due to the LED’s.

You swivelled your hips, grinding down on him as you watched him bite his lip, you heard the gunshots and his teammates voices through his headphones, however you noted he was still muted.

As you lined him up with your entrance, a flash of concern filled his face, his tip catching your entrance,

‘Baby- let me finger you first- or something-‘

You pressed your lips to his, shushing him as you sunk yourself down onto his member, fully sheathing him within you as he let out a loud whine, his hips jerking up as he felt your tightness around him, his breath laboured as he wanted to thrust up into you.

‘So fucking tight for me- fuck’ he groaned, before you pressed a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet as you pressed unmute for him.

He glared up at you, but chuckled lowly as he watched your lusted expression, he felt you clench around him, you were just as much, if not more turned on than he was.

You placed your face into the crook of his neck as you stayed still with him fully inside you, and he kept playing the game, talking to his teammates through the mic.

——

Half an hour, half an hour and he hadnt tried to thrust up into you yet, it was backfiring on you, in this sense.

You saw the current match end, him going into the waiting lobby for the next, a countdown of two minutes appearing,

You quickly muted him, leaning back from him before pressing your lips to him again, slowly lifting your hips and sliding back down onto him, repeating it over and over.

He groaned out loudly, his hands quickly coming down to your hips to pull you down roughly.

You gasped out as he giggled, his eyes full of love and a playful glint.

‘Trying to make me moan infront of my teammates? Hm?’

You shook your head no, making him chuckle again.

‘Well youd better keep quiet then baby’

He unmuted his mic, making you gasp, his hands lifting your hips up onto his desk, pushing his own keyboard out of the way, water bottles hitting the ground as he quickly pushed himself back inside your tight heat, one of his hands pushing the shirt you wore all the way up, his large hand cupping your chest as he pinned you down.

‘You good there chris?’ You heard felix’s voice, a red blush on your face as you realised hed never be able to look you in the eye if he knew what was happening.

‘Im fine, i thought i saw a spider’ chan laughed as he pushed into you again, hard.

You bit the inside of your palm, eyes squeezing shut as he pounded into you, you were lucky his mic’s sensitivity was so low, otherwise you were sure felix would have heard the way chans cock thrust into your wet hole.

You felt your high approaching, and it was growing hard for the both of you to stay quiet.

‘I gotta go guys, sorry’ chan quickly said before leaving the call, throwing his headset off, pulling you off the desk,

He sat back down in the chair and kept thrusting up into you one of his hands finding your throat as you came suddenly, his own high raking down on him as he let himself fill you up.

‘Fuck, fuck baby’ his usual, soft voice was back as he whined into your neck, softly riding out both of your highs.

‘That was so, unfair-‘ he panted, making you giggle,

‘Youve ruined that gaming chair for me’ he smirked, making you confused.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Now whenever i sit down to play, ill just think about this tight little pussy clenching around me’

You whined at his words, and he laughed, kissing your cheek,

‘Did you just get wetter??’

‘Shut upp’ you whined,

‘That means round twooo’

#straykids #skz #kpop writings #straykids writings #kpop #kpop smut #straykids smut #chan #chan smut #chris smut #bang chan #bang chan smut

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simpsiren · 3 years

Text

rooftop star.

jung jaehyun x reader

Every time I look up in the sky. There's not a single star. It's alright, you're my universe, shine bright for me

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description: you realised that love can bloom basically anywhere when you met a guy who entered your comfort space of the rooftop one day.

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers au

warnings: none

word count: 3,744

a/n: this idea just came to my mind while listening to rooftop by n.flying so i hope you guys will enjoy! if you guys have any requests or feedback please let me know :D

for a long time, you and your two close friends, Alex and James, wanted to go away from your home country. some place new and fresh, to start a better live. now you guys are finally living in your dreams of wanting to move to london, it didnt exactly turn out the way you wanted to, well it did. at least for a year.

now, you are just laying down on the long and wide wooden bench at your apartment's rooftop, looking at the sky like what you would do any other night, with your unfinished assignment scattered beside you along with your opened laptop with a blank screen. you would come to visit the rooftop every night, unless you had plans with Alex and James or errands to run of course.

no matter the weather, no matter the situation, you would always head there. in your opinion, you fet that you spent more time up at the rooftop than in your own apartment. its just something about the atmosphere of the place. no one ever came to the rooftop when you were there, the clear plastic that covers the entire rooftop to protect you when it rains, and the sky. you loved looking at the sky. whether there were shining starts filling up the sky or a black void of nothingness, you felt comfort in just looking at it. you felt as though.. it filled your loneliness since you werent able to meet your friends as often anymore as they were too preoccupied with their separate lives. you didnt have any other friends, nor did you bother to find some. you were fine with being alone, only because the sky was able to accompany you 24/7.

it was currently 1am, you sighed and you continued to lay down on the wooden bench with your forearms below your head. you tilted your head. you noticed here were stars. although it wasnt shining brightly, you were still able to see them. you turned your head sideways to face the papers that were all over the place besde you. you graoned as you forced yourself to sit up, gathering all the strength and brain power you had to complete the one assignment that your lecturer gave you for the week. you were already almost done so you might as well finish it by tonight so that you coukd have a break for the rest of the week. you pulled your computer towards you and took a deep breathe before getting back to work after a 30 minute rest from looking at the sky.

you were blasting out music while you were doing your work sincd you left your earpiece at your apartment. the music you listened to had you bobbing your head slolwy to the beat, the calming rhythm pushing you to do your work. just before the next song was about to play, you flinched at a voice that sounded like there was someone standing at the enterance of the rooftop.

"paris in the rain by lauv."

you tilted your head to the direction of the voice, shocked to see a man standing there. you couldnt see him clearly due to the darkness but you could make out that he was a tall man. "im sorry?" you questioned, gaping your mouth open slightly and raising an eyebrow. this was the first ever time you have seen someone coming up to the rooftop. you kept silent as you watched the unknown man walking towards you, his appearence becomig more clear as he stepped out of the darkness and entered the light of the rooftop. "the song you played. it was nice." the man said in a polite and slightly cheerful tone as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and placed his weight on his right leg. you looked at him up and down skeptically. he had light brown hair. he was wearing a plain dark blue hoodie and jeans.

"what are you doing here?" you asked him again, still stunned by how even a radom person showed up here. "you mean i cant enter?" he casually asked you back as he sat down on the floor. you wondered why till you noticed that the whole wooden bench you were sitting on was filled with your papers laying around.you closed your laptop and shook your head slightly. "no i mean i literaly locked the door. how did you-"

"i guess me being a locksmith has come in handy for once in my life." you heard him chuckle softly as he looked down on the floor before looking up at you. "please leave." you murmured softly as you grabbed a piece of paper near you and started writing something on it for your assignment. "this is a public place, you know? but it looks like youve made it your own." you glanced up from the paper to him, noticing that he was looking around the rooftop and looking at the decorations you put up such as fairy lights and lanterns.

“who are you?” another question pops out of your mouth. “you have way too many questions now dont you? alright im jung jaehyun, 23 years old.” the man now you know as jaehyun grins widely as he put his hand out to offer a handshake. “olivier rings.” you simply replied, not even bothering to shake his hand. jaehyun clicks his tongue and puts his hand back down to his lap. “nice name. so, why are you here at this ho-“

you immediately cut him off. “why dont you tell me why are you here? i am aware this is a public space but no one has ever came here till you showed up and i am very uncomfortable with talking to strangers. please leave.” you watched as his face grow dark and emotionless. you clearly made him upset, but he was quick to force a soft smile. “im staying here. you seem like someone i can vibe with.” jaehyun shrugged and lifted his head up to look at the sky through the plastic dome. you laughed softly. “you sure you can vibe with someone like me?” you whispered under your breathe and you lay down on the wooden bench once again, looking up at the sky just like how jaehyun was.

the both of you were silent for at least 20 minutes, not interacting, just admiring the sky with full focus. “i think i should get going. i have a lecture tomorrow.” you sat up straight and yawned, waiting for jaehyun to respond. jaehyun tilted his head back down to face you and nodded in approval.

you stood up from the wooden bench and began packing up, picking up every piece of paper on the bench and placing them in your tote bag. you felt jaehyun’s presence beside you as he assisted you in gathering up your papers and handing them to you. you let out a soft ‘thank you’ before carrying your tote bag over your shoulder and holding the laptop in your arms. “i have the keys to lock the rooftop but i certain someone apparently got through it.” you rolled your eyes as you walked over to the exit of the rooftop that leads to a flight of stairs. you heard jaehyun chuckled as he followed behind you. “ill come by to fix the lock tomorrow, dont worry.”

jaehyun was quick to open the door before you do and turn to you to give you one last smile before going down the stairs and disappearing into the darkness. you stood at the exit for awhile, thinkig over what you have just encountered with a stranger named jaehyun. you sighed, hoping to not see him again as you turned off the switches to the fairy lights at the bottom right of the exit door and left.

the next day, you had just got home from your morning lecture. luckily for you, the major you took only had a fews days of the week when you had to attend for lectures. other than that, you would just complete your assigned work at home, giving you the opportunity to work in your comfort space aka the rooftop.

it was a nice day today since that after the lecture, you did not have much work to do and decided to take the day off. you went to the donut shop nearby your apartment to get your favourite donut, one that you would buy at least once every two weeks when you are free. today is your lucky day.

you head straight to the rooftop with your donut in hand. you figured that you didnt have to vsit your apartment since you have everything you need up at the rooftop. you have a place where you can lay down comfortably, you have all your necessities im your bag such as a portable, your laptop and the whole rooftop just felt like your second home. you opened the door, knowing that there was no lock anymore due to the man named jaehyun who broke it and entered the rooftop.

you released a deep long sigh of relief as you bask in the light coming from the sun, closing your eyes for a moment as your head tilts up to the sky. you stayed there for a moment before walking towards the large wooden plank that you call your bench and bed area and instantly lay down on it. well, it had a thin white mattress over it, with a huge furry yellow pillow. while decorating the rooftop, you really wanted to make it as comfortable as possible, and for the purpose of in case you sleep through the night on top there, which you have done several times.

you placed your bag beside the so called bed and looked at your phone. it was evening at this point and the sunset was just about to come. you sat up straight and took a bite of your donut before reaching to the small area that is between the bench and the edge of the rooftop to take out your portable speaker. you kept it hidden in case anyone comes into the rooftop but you have it charge in your apartment once in awhile. you connected your phone to the speaker with bluetooth and blasted music from your ‘chill playlist’ on spotify. the first song playing was by pink sweats. you hummed the lyrics and bobbed your head as you took another bite of the donut in one hand and look through your social media with your phone on the other. you instantly look up from your phone from you heard the door open.

you see a tall man. this time you were fully able to know who he was in broad daylight. “jung jaehyun.” you looked down beside him to see him carrying what looked like bubble tea, for two? “i knew you’d be here.” you licked your dry lips as you folded your arms and watch him walk over to the bench, placing the drinks on your foldable dining table beside it and took a seat next to you. you moved to the side a little to make a small gap between you two, still unsure if you could event trust him just yet. “how’d you know i would be here?” you asked him as you folded your legs.

“judging from the rooftop thing you have going on, it looked like you come here often. most people like to come up to rooftops to look at the scenery. sunsets, night skies and such.” jaehyun shrugged calmingly, extending his arm over you, to which you backed your body away a little, noticing that he was reaching for the bubble tea. he grabbed it and took a sip. “so i made an intelligent guess that you would be here to watch that.” you heard jaehyun chewing on the drink’s pearls in his mouth as he pointed his drink.

you looked towards the direction he was pointing at the see a beautiful sunset arising. you gaped your mouth in awe, the song in the background making the whole atmosphere more fitting. you softly smiled and chuckled, grabbing the other bobble tea on the table and poking a straw into it before taking a sip. “im guessing this is for me?” jaehyun turns to you when he heard the noise of the straw poking through. he nodded his head as he swallowed the last pearl that was in his mouth. “for breaking your lock.” you hummed as you watched the sunset.

“it looks so beautiful.” you whispered, just loud enough for jaehyun to hear. you heard jaehyun sigh in satisfaction. “definitely.” you and jaehyun took a sip of your bubble tea drinks.

“get me brown sugar milk tea next time.” you told jaehyun. your turned towards him when you heard him scoff with a smile. “what?” you asked in annoyance. “you want me to come back here again? says the one that told me to leave yesterday.” jaehyun rolled his eyes. you let out a ‘tsk’ in response. “well of course i told you to leave. i didn’t know you at all yesterday.” you argued back.

the sun has now set completely and the sky became dark. “so you assume you know me now?” jaehyun raised an eyebrow with a smirk appearing on his lips. “that’s wasnt what i meant- jeez you’re so hard to talk to.” you huffed and ran your hand through your hair as you admitted defeat, too tired to even argue with a man you just met.

“mind if i stay here till midnight or something? i have no other plans tonight, i have to fix that lock of yours, and this place really is a nice spot to look at the stars.” you stared at him as you hard what he said. does he like to look at the stars like you do? maybe he wouldn’t be so hard to vibe with after all.

that night, you and jaehyun talked for hours while looking at the night sky. you found that that he recently moved into the apartment next to yours and he was working a bookstore nearby. the habit that you and jaehyun share of looking at the sky was what started your whole friendship. little by little, the two of your grew closer and closer together. you two carried on with your separate lives of course, but you and him will always spend time together, even if it meant one minute, to meet at your rooftop and admire the scenery of your town, counting every star you see in the sky together, and even looking down, observing the people that walked by, making intelligent guesses on what they work as based on what they were wearing or how their lives looked liked.

by 6 months of being friends with jaehyun, the friendship became more intense, in the physical way. one day, jaehyun caught you crying as he entered the rooftop. you later told him that Alex got into an accident and was badly injured. jaehyun hugged you close to him to comfort you. of course, that is what anyone would have done if they seen you crying, screaming, and balling your eyes out. but with jaehyun, you felt safe and secured in his hug. just the way he hugged your body, gently brushing his hand through your hair as he talked about the stars and came up with goofy stories as to how each star came to be. you laughed with the way he comfort you as he looked down to stare at your eyes, fully immersed into you.

“if you need me, ill be here. ill be like the rooftop, your very own comfort space.” a single tear rolled down your cheek as your bit your lip, fully aware that your eyes are red and sore from crying too much. jaehyun brings his thumb up to get rid of the tear before pulling you in once more, your face landing on his shoulder as you were finally able to calm your body and let it rest against his, melting away at his warm touch.

“jaehyun?” you looked at jaehyun, who you have been cuddling with since 8pm. “what is it, oli?” jaehyun asked back, patting your head as his grip around your waist got tighter to bring your closer to him. “i dont see any stars out tonight. why did you keep talking about them?” you questioned jaehyun. the whole time you were together with him today, he talked as if there were millions of stars in the sky, but every time you look up, you dont see a single one. you just saw a blank black sky.

jaehyun chuckled as the brushed a few strands of hair behind your back. “ever since i met you, no matter what the sky looked like every night, i still see stars. not the ones in the sky, but the ones in your eyes.” jaehyun sighed as he brought his hand to cup your cheek. you stared at him, your eyes froze as you made eye contact with him, not fully aware of what he was talking about. “im aware there isnt a single star out tonight, but its alright. you’re my universe, so shine bright for me.” you blinked at him. he has always said flowery words to you for fun, but the look in his eyes felt like he meant those words seriously. you hummed, out of not exactly knowing what to reply. “you’ll find out what i mean.” was all jaehyun said as he suddenly noticed you falling asleep in his arms.

the next day, you woke up, you winced at the sun shining brightly as it blinded your eyes. you rubbed your eyes before sitting up straight. you realised jaehyun was gone. that’s weird to be frank, normally if you fell asleep, he would be there for you the moment you wake up. whether he was cuddling you close, or brought out to buy you breakfast. you shrugged and moved on with your day, thinking that he would be back by tonight.

wrong, he didn’t show up. every night, you waited and waited mindlessly, thinking that he would pop up at the door of the rooftop. you didn’t know where he went or what he was doing during the time he was gone and it made you worried sick. it felt as though he left you for no reason. your comfort space left, and you didn’t know what to do without it. the rooftop doesn’t feel the same without the presence of jaehyun. as time went on, you still carried on with your routine of sitting by the rooftop, but you felt an aching in your heart every time you step into it. “this used to be my comfort space, along with you. so why did you have to go?” you questioned yourself, one year after his disappearance.

one day, you were hugging your knees close to your chest as you cradled yourself slowly, while looking up at the stars. “its alright. you’re my universe, so shine bright for me.” the last important words that jaehyun said kept replaying in your head, still wondering what he meant by that. you took a quick look around your rooftop. “fuck.” you whispered as you broke down in tears, noticing how much you miss jaehyun. the feelings of your love for him only grew as time went on and you couldn’t hold it in no more. you needed him here, right now.

“oli.” you heard your name being called at the entrance of the rooftop. you immediately jolted your head towards the door. you see someone standing there, and you know exactly who it was. “jaehyun..” you whispered as you watched jaehyun emerge from the shadows, revealing himself after being missing for over a year. you broke down even more, letting your eyes run dry as you cried out loudly, screaming jaehyun name. jaehyun instantly ran towards you and hugged you, a feeling that you longed for too long. “sh sh oli. its okay, im finally back.” jaehyun lightly kisses your ear as he ducks his head into your neck. you cried into his chest as his shirts started to soak in your tears.

“where.. where did you go? i fucking missed you.” you murmured as you looked up at jaehyun, who’s eyes immediately softened as he looked at your crying face. he wipes the excess tears on your cheeks dry with the end of his sweater and sighed. “i had to move out of the country to visit my sick mother. since she was feeling better after a year, i headed back here.” you felt his hand on your head as soothing his hand over your hair like the good old days. you really missed him. his presence, his touch. everything. “you didn’t tell me you were leaving.”

you looked down as you played with his sweater, fiddling your fingers with it. however, jaehyun brings his hand to connect with your interlocking the fingers of both of your hands with his. he brought your interlocking hands up in front of you. “princess, i hinted at you, didnt i?” you blinked at him as you tilted his head, the last words that he gave before he went away popped in your head. “what do you mean by shine bright for you?” you asked jaehyun as you frowned. jaehyun dropped his hands, along with yours to your lap, his face moving closer in your lips were just inches apart.

“it meant that no matter where you are, if i look at the most brightest star in the sky, ill be reminded of you. it also meant that you should have faith that ill come back to you, since you’re my universe, and my only brightest star.” with that jaehyun pulled you in by your waist, brushing his lips against yours before bringing you into a soft and gentle kiss. you kissed him back as you melted into him, fully letting him deepen the kiss. you closed your eyes in satisfaction as you smiled into the kiss. you leaned in closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. you pulled away for a moment as you stared at his face. “then shine bright for me as well, jung jaehyun.”

“as i will.” you pulled him in for another kiss. who knew that a love like this can be made from meeting at a rooftop?

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