#Im combative and an asshole when I need to be because if not then my friends get walked all over and Im not gonna let that happen?

[venusinverted]

from the perspective of someone who is not a people pleaser: it really bugs me how "people pleaser" is just a synonym for either "too scared to speak up for yourself" or "I will sacrifice my own health so you can be happy"

It's not fun to know someones just doing something because you want to and not because theyre excited to/actually want to

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

i knew that wkx is callous and cruel in guzhu mode but these past few days i spent time seeing it in slowmotion because im gathering material for my wip. combing through these scenes with wkx and the ghost valley women is really tough. hes so mean, hes such an asshole, hes such a jerk. and its so intriguing and gutpunching because these are moments when he starts out alone, drinking or being tended to by a servant, introspective. lqq or lfm or gu xiang join him, and theyre in an entirely different mood, and they need something from him in some way. theyre putting their own vulnerability on display, theyre reaching out a hand to him. and he ,, doesnt handle it well.

there is this scene with lfm when they share a moment of genuine connection and tell each other of their thoughts and intentions. and even though wkx is more open here, even though this is after he has been domesticated by being around his a-xu and looking after zcl, a ghost remembering being human, and even though hes telling lfm of his original plan for the jianghu in order to make her understand his growth, that he has seen the error of his ways, it still shakes her up, and his willingness to listen to her advise doesnt seem enough to smooth things over so fast.

i dont know where im going with this, just that wkx has this pattern in how he behaves around others who have the unfortunate luck to be listening to him, and it transitions from different shades of distrust and disbelief to open disgust and bitterness, and it always has him fall into cussing out the people in power who hurt him, and it never fails to take a toll on those listening. hes not emotionally available when like this, and you can see how hard it is for those around to reach him

[blighted-lights]

I feel like your approach to criticizing a certain fandom was the wrong way of doing it. Don't get me wrong, you are a hundred percent right about the lack of representation for certain characters. But you had to have known that you would've gotten backlash for insinuating that the only reason that content is being made is because people are... misogynistic? The characters are well-written; that's why they get attention. The women are also well-written, you're right! But instead of getting mad at the people who enjoy specific characters, you could contribute to what you want to see in the fandom. Make fanfiction, make art, talk about your favorite ships, talk about your favorite characters, talk about the head-canons you have for them, connect with other fans of those characters, make AUs with them, make the fandom you want to see! But I don't know what you were expecting when you come out and say in the tags "you must be misogynists for liking these characters and you must be awful people for playing around with AUs" even though every fandom on this website does that. That was hostile and was only going to get a hostile response in return especially when you specifically put it in the tags for fans of those characters to see. Because it reads as you insinuating that fans of these characters existing is why you don't get any representation of your favorite characters. Or, alternatively, that everyone only likes certain characters because they're misogynists who hate women characters. People make content of them because they like them and because they want to make content of them.

Want more content of the things you want to see? Pay or support the artists and writers who make that content or start making it yourself. Its not helpful to complain that some characters get more attention than others but then make no attempt to contribute to it in any meaningful way. You cannot just get mad at people for liking characters and expect the fandom to magically decide its going to give you the content you want.

This is a long-winded way of saying you are correct in that the fandom seems to hyper-focus on some characters over others. But the way you approached that discussion was combative, hostile, and unhelpful, and you're not going to motivate a community into making content by being passive-aggressive to the people making the content they want to make. Be the change you want to see in the fandom, or support the artists and writers who make the content you want to see.

Its like... You can't complain your garden isn't growing if you're not watering it and not adding seeds, and instead are blaming everyone else for having plants in their gardens that you don't like.

anon i dont know how to tell you this but if you felt the need to write a five-paragraph essay talking about how i need to be nicer to other people when i am pointing out misogyny in a fandom space then, well... actually, i dont know what to tell you other than the fact that i was trying to be aggressive and im not going to be civil about misogyny. my post wasn't made in the hopes of getting people to make more content of the women in borderlands because that would never in ten fucking million years work. it was not a constructive post. you are assuming i have some sort of goodwill about this and i don't. i wanted to be an asshole because, surprise, i am an asshole. funny how that works.

you are also pulling so much of this out of nowhere and putting so many words in my mouth that i dont even know where to begin with it?? i mean this in the kindest way possible nonnie but. this is a wild response to make when all i said was essentially "wow it sure is weird that the majority of content made for bl is focused on only three men when there's a full cast of amazing women to look at" and then "its also weird that people are making aus to erase the canon abuse and exploitation of a CHILD in order to make jack a good father". but thanks for the essay, nonnie. i guess.

[bonyassfish]

Why are you jumblr assholes so fucking obsessed with atheists? My guess is you found a group of people more despised than you and decided to join in on the atheist bashing. And you can hate on with impunity because no one else cares about us. And you have this build in defense where if anyone calls you on your bullshit you can just cry “antisemitism” and shut down the discussion. Because no matter what you’re always the victims. And then you wonder why we hate you!

the funniest thing about this to me personally is that I'm actually an atheist jew lmao

now im in a good mood so I'm going to try and take this question a little seriously even though you just seem angry and whiny and bitter and intent on bothering jewish people minding our business

in the real world, the biggest threat to jewish safety and security right now is, (at least in the us, canada, europe, australia, and aotearoa) is white supremacy and christo-fascism. but tumblr is not quite the real world

if you did a demographic study of tumblr, you would find that the majority of users (but not all of course) are probably left-leaning, from either the us or europe, white, and were either raised in christian home or grew up in a culturally christian place. this is obviously not all tumblr users, but it probably describes most Tumblr users. and if you did a survey of all tumblr users who were either raised christian and/or raised in a culturally christian place, you would probably find that most (though not all) do not currently practice christianity, and many might also say they suffered some religious trauma.

within this group (people raised christian/culturally christian who are now atheists), there is a lot of variety on how people see religion as a whole and interact with religious people. there is one particular subset of this group who I will generously refer to as the "somewhat ignorant but loud spoken atheists". it's the person who says that all religion is equally bad. it's the person who has unlearned the harm christianity has done to themselves, but not to other communities. it's the person who parrots the same islamaphobia and antisemitism as the church leaders they critique. it's bill maher. it's the person who sees religious and ethnic minorities being proud of their heritage and serious about their traditions and thinks it's the same as christians trying to rewrite laws in the us.

so when we talk about antisemitism on tumblr, because of tumblr demographics, those types of people will be the ones who espouse the most antisemitism here. it's similar to why tumblr users may be more combative with terfs than other transphobes, simply because you're much more likely to find a terf here than a conservative

I can't speak for all jews (we are a notoriously disagreeable people lol), but we really have no problems with atheism or atheists in general. hell, there are many jews (such as myself) who are atheists. we don't think everyone on earth needs to follow the same religious framework, so someone being an atheist is no problem. the issue is that you espouse antisemitism and refuse to apologize for it

[bitch-butter]

tagged by @im-chinese-believe-it-or-not for the WIP game, and I'm just manic enough rn that I Will share

(excerpt from pretty on the inside (pretty from the back) (au!web's grimdark origin story) below feat. my Contribution to Hot Roy Summer, ambiguously motivated sw, and implied sexual content).

thank you for the tag ~

tagging: @airsignss (post a letter from the alphabet postaletterfromTheAlphabet)

That got him through his first month of summer in Cambridge, providing nighttime distractions to the guys who didn’t go home for break, for the friends of those guys in Boston, for the friends of those friends and the acquaintances of those others. But it wasn’t until he fucked Roy Cobb that it was ever suggested he make a website to advertise his services.

“If you Harvard brats were as smart as you say you are you’d be doing more than getting passed around the same group of assholes all summer,” the other man had said, pulling up his sweatpants as David watched him with a raised brow, skin cooling down from its violent flush and ass as raw as ever. Cobb wasn’t a student at Harvard, but he knew guys who were, and as such knew that for the right price he could get David to come out to this moderately priced hotel room for a whirlwind Saturday night fuckfest. David had never been a working man himself, but he understood these were the kind of weekend getaways that needed actual saving up for, and as such he was obliged to let Cobb speak to him however he liked. Even if the guy hadn’t proved to be the most long lasting screw he’d ever had. 

“Is that so?” he’d drawled, wishing absently for a cigarette.

Cobb perched a pair of Unabomber-esque reading glasses over the bridge of his nose as he sat against the edge of the bed. “Do you want to be a big fish in a small pond?”

David smirked, easing himself across the mattress until he could lay his head against the other man’s clothed thigh. “What kind of fish do you want me to be?” he asked coyly, gazing up at the unamused man with lidded eyes.

“You’re worth more than $500 bucks a pop,” Cobb answered, undeterred by David’s antics, even as he reached to comb a hand through his mussed curls. “And I think you know it.”

Humming, David moved into the touch. “Even if I was, I don’t think I’m going to do much better than that given the current state of my clientele being college boys eating off daddy’s money.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Cobb said irritably, giving his hair a tug. “Do you know The Social Network?”

Rolling his eyes, David huffed. “I’m familiar with the work of David Fincher, yes.”

“Well, you know in that movie when they move Facebook to Stanford?” he prompted annoyingly, as though David hadn’t been made to watch the fucking movie by everyone he’d come across in the last few years who knew he was bound for Harvard. “That’s because they wanted to be seen by the right people.”

Breathing in a deep breath, David reached to brush an errant speck of dust from the other man’s cheek. “You’re saying I need to transfer to Stanford?”

“You need a website,” Cobb clarified, accepting the touch without a thought. “You should be seen by the right people.”

The laugh startled out of him as fast as anything, and he bent into it gratefully, finding it the most genuine expression he’d had in almost a month. “Oh, really?” he’d pressed, more curious than anything else at the way Cobb just looked unerringly down at him. “Are you going to make it for me?”

Cobb shrugged. “That’s what I do.”

“Really?”

“Development, design,” Cobb said easily, his face blank behind his glasses. “It’s my passion.”

David had been stunned by his generosity. “You’d do that for me?”

“Well,” he’d trailed off, using his grip on David’s hair to turn his face into the burgeoning bulge in his crotch. “For a price.”

It had ended up being a more productive weekend than he had expected, the two of them on the bed before Cobb’s laptop as he divulged more about his sexual proclivities than he’d ever shared with another person before. It would have honestly been halfway sexy if Cobb had not been as clinical with it as he would be speaking with any other potential client. By the end David had been presented with a discrete, classy looking interface describing him as every old, rich closet-case's wet dream, and after a quick hook-up with a reputable but moderately priced photographer he had a miniature faceless portfolio of risque pictures to match. 

David had the sense of a door opening, but what was behind it was something he really couldn’t guess. 

His first date with a man he officially considered to be a client had been with a man named Michael who ran a hedge fund. He had booked a room for them and paid for a long, long night with an envelope embossed with creamy, silvery initials stamped in the center. The sex itself was not anything particularly memorable, but David found the longer he did it the easier it became to do things he’d never done before, and for the very first time he’d been asked to get on top. Finding that he liked it just the same wasn’t even the wildest revelation of the night, as he found that Michael had perused his site carefully and had taken note of the things David would be willing to do, seeming to almost take it as a challenge to have him do nearly all of them.

If he hadn’t considered himself experienced before he certainly did in the light of the dawn: bruised, sore in good and bad ways, skin tacky with fluids. He had pressed his mouth to the seal on the envelope and thought of how his father would feel if he knew his son enjoyed being fucked, enjoyed being paid. 

He had sat at the desk in the room after Michael had left and wrote it all down on the notepad beside the phone, the hotels seal a blue ribbon over his words, feeling relaxed, sated even if that had barely been the point.

[lordrandreaming]

CW: Semi-harsh language, Mpreg, don't like don't read!

"Gaspard- We seriously need to talk. Now."

"Mon amour? Did i do something wrong today?"

"Save it! Im not playing around Gaspard.."

Lucio lowly hisses, Gaspard is struck in the heart with an ice cold twinge. He swallows nervously.

"Okay-.. Im serious. What is in dire need of discussion?"

Lucio frowns a bit and his arms are tightly folded against his chest. He looks away from Gaspard.

"Im pregnant."

Gaspard goes pale immidietly.

"You.. Your-.. P-P-Pregnant??"

Lucio's expression becomes one of annoyance.

"Yeah.. Explains why im so damn sick all the sudden.. We need to talk about.. This."

Gaspard sputters a moment, he shakes his head and blinks.

"Pregnant.. Your.. Pregnant.."

Gaspard nervously combs through his ponytail.

"Yes! How many times do you have to repeat it?!"

Lucio snaps, causing Gaspard to flinch.

"I don't know if i can commit to this, Lucio.."

Oh... That's not good.

Lucio snarls.

"What? What do you mean 'cant commit'?"

Lucio's eyes narrow and his tone becomes venomous. Gaspard swallows nervously.

"Luci-.. I.. I don't want any more kids.. It's bad enough i have you-"

Lucio's heart cracks in two at this very moment, Gaspard can see it in his eyes, and then a hellfire raises.

"Bad ENOUGH? Im BAD ENOUGH? Oh OH! So.. This whole time- I've been a fucking inconvenience to you?!"

Gaspard sighs, trying to explain himself in a panicky fashion.

"Non-Non-Non! Mon amour, im a wandering Magician! I can't settle anywhere and just make a family.. My purpose is to find Paradise! I can't have a baby and seek Paradise at once! My kids flew the coop, and i seriously hunted Paradise for years, i can't stop now-"

"Paradise this! Paradise that! Go FUCK yourself you- You SWINE!"

Tears are already racing down Lucio's face. He pivots on a foot and storms out.

Melchoir and Mercedes perk up as their master storms out of the shared hut and into the woods. Crying, and holding himself tight. The two albino familiars follow after him.

"I can't fucking believe you! Fucking.. Fucking ASSHOLE!"

He shouts at the hut, flipping Gaspard off as he comes into the doorway.

"Luci- Wait!"

Lucio doesn't even turn to him and storms off into the woods. Gaspard gives chase, trees morph into dark shapes, and sunlight becomes more sparse the thicker the leaves layer.

Lucio stops at a fallen tree, and collapses on his knees.

"Unfair-! Unfair!.."

He sobs, punching and hitting the ground. He sends an acidic glare to the sky, patchy yet visible from beyond the leaves of green.

"Why?! Everything was fine! And now- Now it's all ruined!"

His cries echo in the lonely woods Melchoir and Mercedes whine at him, Gaspard soon appears. He knows he messed up when the two white dogs that love to cuddle on him whenever possible, start growling at him.

Paradise was his answer for everything. It's been his whole life since Demyan appeared to him.. Paradise is where no one will suffer, no one will cry, no one will hate. Just.. Flowers and field as far as the eye can see.

Rolling hills, with dandelions ripe to be rolled through. Endless sunny days without a dark cloud in sight- literal perfection.

Just once again he'd like to find it- Once wasn't enough.. He needs to take all his loved ones and they all can live happy and carefree.. Not have to worry about pain, or money troubles, nothing.

But, this desire is a wild goose chase. The entire year he spent there, he forgot about his family. About Cornelius and Demyan, and Sasha.. And Montag.

There is no sun without the moon. There will be shadows to hide in from the light. There is no Paradise.. When you already have it.

Maybe he's come to realise his efforts are fruitless, there's no sign of paradise anywhere anymore..

Because it's Lucio-.. It's this little life they built for themselves. Inbetween adventuring and taking on beast contracts, it was just Gaspard, Lucio, Sasha, Mercedes, and Melchoir..

Getting to see Lucio's sweet, sleeping face every morning, bathed in soft daylight through the curtains was a blessing in of itself. But, what's better than that? Why, his laughter. Unrestrained joy, not having to pretend to be anyone but himself. That light flickering in his eyes- utter happiness.

Gaspard's search for Paradise has gotten desperate, more trips that end up being shorter and shorter. Before, it was uncertain when they would return home, but recently, he's been returning sooner than the last.. Especially since Lucio's been sick.

Gaspard's been pulling his hair out over it.. Lucio was all for finding paradise, but as time went on, their actions caught up with them- now they must pay the price and bear the burden.. Of a baby yet to even form a body.

He's softly panting, and Lucio notices his presence. He shoots Gaspard a venomous glare. Melchoir and Mercedes join him.

"Oh great, YOU! Gonna tell me more about how you don't want anything to do with me and our baby?!"

Our baby.

Gaspard holds out a hand, waiting a moment before speaking.

"No-.. No! Not what i followed you for! Lucio- Lucio my love, my beloved! Please, allow me to speak.."

"I don't want to hear it!"

Melchoir and Mercedes snap at Gaspard.

"Im not... I didn't want a baby because i would drag them into my paradise scramble-.. I dragged you into it didn't i? This is no life suited for a child- a baby even less so!"

A sharp laugh comes from Lucio.

"HAH! Dragged me into it?! Please! Gaspard, do you know who your talking to?! Now your just being pretentious!"

"Alright, alright-.. Lucio- please.. Please.. I'm. Im done hunting for Paradise."

"Your just saying that! Lying to me!"

Lucio yells, tears run down his cheeks and smear his eyeliner. Gaspard hangs his head in shame.

"Non- Mon amour-.. I.. I see it now. I.. I'll admit it. I've lost all traces of Paradise. There are no more hints for me to follow, no magic string tugging me along. It's just.. Silence. There's no calling anymore, almost as if it was made up.."

Gaspard takes his hat off and looks to Lucio with a solemn expression. He takes a careful step foreward, Lucio doesn't budge. Melchoir and Mercedes stand, ears back, but no longer snarling.

"I think.. Because I've found it with you."

Lucio's angry expression drops, and he lets himself fall into a small sobbing fit, arms tight against his chest, he looks away, his lower lip quivering.

"You make it so difficult to hate you.."

"I know, and I'm.. I'm sorry. For not being there for you when you needed me, for.. Ignoring what i had. Lucio, you are what I've needed for oh so long. You are my Paradise, my love.. My everything."

He gets closer and closer, until he finally embraces Lucio, who folds and wraps his arms around Gaspard's waist, nuzzling into his chest stifling sobs.

"I think I can commit.. No, I will commit. To you and.. Our child. Shall you see it through. I can't change what you want, but i promise.. To be by your side no matter how rough the water's get."

Lucio snuffles and wipes his face on Gaspard's shirt, clutching the fabric.

"Of course.. Of course i want to see this though.. I.. I always-.. I always wanted to have a baby of my own-.. I never.. Never thought I'd get the chance-.."

Gaspard rubs his back, and both dogs are nosing him, poking him with their snouts. Basically letting him off with a warning, as Sasha appears from her afternoon nap, lazily clambering up to Gaspard and Lucio.

"And yet- Here we are.. Your pregnant, and honestly.. I'm overjoyed."

Pulling back a bit, Gaspard looks down at Lucio, a hand coming to his as of yet still flat stomach.

"Lucio, I didn't think I'd ever have a child related by blood to me.. Due to who and what i am. I was fine with having Cornelius and Demyan keeping me busy busy busy.. But, after my little birds left the nest, i got lost in the sorrow i felt.. I've felt so lacking since then.."

Lucio's hands gently hold over Gaspard's, as the magician leans down to rest his forehead on Lucio's head.

"But- this book is far from coming to a close.. You, my love, so extraordinary and handsome, are starting a whole new chapter with me.. I must be blessed by the gods, or dreaming.. To be with you, right here, right now.."

Lucio can only handle so much sappiness.. He's still crying a bit, but he snorts and kneads into Gaspard's hand.

"Tch.. Need me to pinch ya? Or better yet.. Punch you in your stupid gorgeous face.."

Gaspard laughs and smooches Lucio's head.

"Gonna punch me with your lips?"

"More like my metal fist to your face.."

Sasha yawns, basically rolling her eyes. Gaspard sighs and pats her.

"Alright alright.. Would you like to go home now?"

Lucio nods his head.

"Yes.. After making me run away from you, i very much would just like to go home and have something tasty.."

Gaspard hums, and immidietly sweeps Lucio off the ground. Lucio laughs as he's twirled around, his arms wrap around Gaspard's neck, under his undone Blond waves.

"Mmh.. Im so sorry your in love with the greatest fool to ever exist.."

"Ah ah ah~ You aren't just a fool, Your my fool.."

Lucio hums back, twirling a golden sunshine lock of Gaspard's hair. The two share a small laugh before pecking on the lips.

Gaspard carries Lucio home bridal style, Melchoir, Mercedes, and Sasha trailing behind them.

[kusaka6e]

SOFTCORE

sanemi x fem!reader

implied/mentioned nsfw, 18+ !!

am i overdoing the butterfly mansion caregiver/slayer trope? maybe but idc i love it

insp by softcore by the neighbourhood

———

another night spent with you patching up his wounds, peppering him in kisses between applying bandages. another night of him insisting he was fine but the persistence in your voice turning him into putty in your hands.

for the past year, you and sanemi had seen each other sporadically when he needed treatment and rehab. and a lot of times, the only thing that kept sanemi alive during his harder missions was the thought of seeing you to treat his wounds.

you were one of the lead caregivers at the butterfly mansion, and began making it a point to take care of sanemi whenever he passed through since he had a habit of being a little too rough on his still-healing injuries. that, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way you couldn’t explain.

you two didn’t see each other outside of the butterfly mansion. but he didn’t care and neither did you.

“sanemi, you have got to be more careful. if you keep getting slashed like this you’ll bleed out before you can make it here.”

“i’d never let that happen, then i wouldn’t get to hear that pretty voice of yours rag on me about it, would i?”

and everytime you sent him away for another mission, it scared the shit out of you. he knew that a ‘next time’ seeing you wouldn’t be promised, so he did his best to shower you in affection before he left. you two spent endless nights in one of the more private rooms of the mansion (that you’d reserved just for him when he was there) talking, cuddling, doing just about anything other than sleeping.

he wanted so bad to make you his wife, to give the world in the way he knew you deserved, but his career kept him from doing so. he told himself he wasn’t going to get close to you at all because of this, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting you in. everyone saw how much softer he was around you. he still cursed like a sailor and kept his same crude humor, but he wasn’t nearly as loud or aggressive, or as combative towards the things you did and said.

you’d had a particularly difficult few weeks as far as taking care of complicated patients and losing a very young slayer to their injuries, which hurt you much more than you were willing to let on.

and the next day, genya and sanemi entered the yard of the mansion, bruised and busted up as ever. you wordlessly take sanemi’s hand, leading him into you two’s usual room. genya shoots his brother a look, earning a middle finger from sanemi before turning to face you.

“‘s the matter with you?”

“nothing.” he raises an eyebrow, reading you like a book.

he watches silently as you bring all your supplies into the room, nearly having your routine memorized by now. he shrugged out of his haroi, beginning to unbutton the top of his uniform as you soak a few cotton balls in a cleansing solution.

“you gonna just sulk, or actually tell me what’s fucking with you?” he looks you up and down, gently pulling you in by your waist as you clean a cut on his face.

“rough couple of weeks.” he looks at you expectantly, groaning when you don’t say anymore.

“jesus, doll, you gonna make me read your damn mind?”

“this is just… a lot, sanemi.”

“what is?” his voice is softer, running his hands down your sides.

“just, this. the way the corps is run, the way we do things, the fact that this is how i have to spend time with you, all of it.”

“you don’t enjoy getting to fix all my wounds while im half-naked?”

you shoot him a look, rolling your eyes.

“because i really enjoy fucking you after a mis-”

“sanemi! you know that's not what i meant, asshole!” you shove one of his shoulders, letting out an exasperated laugh.

he just wanted to see you smile. he knew exactly what you meant, because he was just as frustrated.

“it’s shitty, but that's just the way things are, (y/n).” you pause, just sighing before going back to tending to his wounds. he frowns, never having witnessed you so down before.

he gently takes a side of your face in his hand, bringing you to look at him.

“seriously, doll, what’s wrong?”

“i lost someone last week.” his eyes widen, face softening. while you never said it, it was evident to him how much pride you put into your job and how much it meant to you.

“i’m sorry.”

“and the week before that, we had to cut off a little girl’s leg. that was the only way she’d live. she was only six years old, and her entire life is changed because of that already.” you press your lips together, trying to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“that isn’t your fault, (y/n). what more could you have done?”

you shrug, staring at the floor as you will your tears away. he sighs heavily, wishing there was more he could do to ease your heartache. he wasn’t stupid, he knew the mental toll your job had to take on you. but, he’d never witnessed it firsthand, and it was breaking his heart to see you so down.

“it’s not fair, we shouldn’t have to worry about shit like this now, not so early.”

“early?”

“i just turned twenty, nemi. and you’re only twenty-one.”

“i’m not understanding.”

“don’t you think we’re too young for all this? you and the other hashira bare the weight of humanity on your shoulders, all under the radar. your entire life is in danger all the time, and you can’t even talk about it outside of the corps facilities. we should be worried about finding places to live, getting married, not about not getting eaten alive by fucking demons!”

he feels himself blush at your mention of marriage, but quickly brushes it off. he pulls you into him, unable to look at your trembling bottom lip and tearful eyes anymore. and when you finally break and let out a few muffled sobs, tears of his own begin to threaten to spill. because you were right.

“i-i’m sorry, (y/n).”

“it’s not fair, sanemi. i only get to see you when you’re injured and i might not ever see you again after that? children are responsible for keeping everyone else safe?! it’s bullshit!”

“it’s not fair but it’s the way things are, honey. i don’t like it any more than you do but that’s the horrible fuckin’ cards we were dealt.”

“you seem to be perfectly fine with it.” he raises an eyebrow at your change in tone, jaw clenching.

“excuse me?” he steps away, putting a few feet between the two of you.

“i said, you see-”

“you think i don’t wish shit was different? you think i want to have to be okay with losing my life to a demon at any given moment? knowing that i could very well outlive my baby brother? you think i want to have this long distance, inconsistent bullshit?! if it was up to me, i would marry you, (y/n), but it just doesn’t work like that for us! so don’t sit here and put words in my fucking mouth, when i’m just as miserable!”

your eyes widen as he speaks, slightly stepping towards him.

“y-you wanna marry me?”

“of course that’s all you fucking heard.” he rolls his eyes, turning to leave the room.

“sanemi!” you grab his wrist, making him stop as he inhales deeply.

“nemi, i-i’m sorry, i didn’t know.”

“you are all i want, (y/n). but i can’t live with the thought of starting a life with you, just to have it ruined in a second by a demon. i couldn’t leave you with that kind of heartache.” he squeezes his eyes shut as his voice cracks, refusing to turn around and look at you.

“look at me.” he shakes his head, unable to get a word out.

“sanemi, look at me.” after a few seconds he caves, hanging his head as he turns to face you.

“as fucked up, and unfair as all this is, there’s nobody i’d rather go through it with. even if ‘forever’ only means tomorrow, i want this, you, forever.” you cradle his face in your hands, watching his eyes shift as he processes your words.

“i-i can’t, (y/n), it’s too much of a risk.”

“more of a risk than you leaving here for a mission and not knowing if i’ll ever see you again? i’d rather risk losing my partner than just some stubborn slayer i have a crush on.” he lets out a quiet gasp, eyes finally meeting yours.

“marry me.”

“okay.” you’re barely able to get a word out, nodding before he pulls you in and kisses you roughly.

by now, he’s got your body memorized, knows all the little things to do to drive you crazy and to make you feel good. he keeps a firm grip on your hips as he rolls them against his own, the friction making both of you let out a moan.

“you’re mine now, you know that right?” he mumbles against your chest, taking his time covering you in lovebites.

“i’ve been yours for a long time now, nemi.”

[nctsworld]

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.”

[strangelysamantha]

hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!

so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.

john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!

the deep end ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.

words: 1,674.

summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.

request? yes!

a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)

my masterlist

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john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.

you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.

since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.

“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.

jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.

jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.

“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.

after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.

jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.

“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”

“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.

“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.

“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.

“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.

you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.

jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.

a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.

“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”

jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.

john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.

sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”

possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!

[binniedeactivated]

hi binnie i wanted to request a fem!reader x dom!yeonjun when she comes home late at night smelling like someone else’s cologne and he punishes her. (sorry this is very descriptive aha im no good at english ) :3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐖/𝐂 | 2.5k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱

“hyung, go to sleep”. soobin encourages over the video monitor.

“no we need to finish these lyrics”. yeonjun refuses. he was currently working from home in his home studio. it was more urgent to him than anyone else probably because of the real studio time he’s missed due to paternity leave. 

“hyung we can finish them tomorrow alright?”. soobin assures softly. he hated seeing the older stressing himself out. “how’s jayce? has he been sleeping okay?”. soobin asks.

yeonjun huffs and combs his hair back with his fingers in stress. he hasn’t been getting the sleep he wanted due to the six month old infant. especially since your boss needed you urgently, cutting your maternity leave and giving you later hours than usual. hence the reason why yeonjun has been practically banging his head over work. he palms his forehead in the video camera. soobin could see the weariness in his eyes.

“yeah I guess. I just put him down an hour ago. I hope he stays asleep”.

“good. you should use this time to get some sleep hyung”.

yeonjun huffs again, parting his lips to say something else before he heard the front door open and close softly. it was you trying to hurry and sneak in. maybe change your clothes and shower before yeonjun could suspect anything.

“fine I guess. I’ll get some sleep”.

“good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow hyung”.

“bye soobin”.

he waves before ending the call. he checks his watch. it was almost an hour later than when you normally came home. “babe is that you?”. he spoke.

you swiftly took your jacket off hanging it on the coat rack. you cursed under breath hating the fact that he even heard you arrive. “yes babe”. you call out from near the door.

“you know you’re like an hour late coming home. jayce was a handful today”.

you slip off your shoes. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now”. you tried to sound as sincere as possible. almost as if you weren’t fucking one of your best friends an hour prior.

yeonjun turns off his monitors and shuts off the equipment in his studio. he decided to check on the baby one last time before entering your shared bedroom. thank god he was still asleep.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole but baby I really need you here. why is your boss keeping you so late?”. yeonjun questions while you were digging into your closet. you were kind of glad he couldn’t see the guilty look on your face. but he definitely smelled the cologne each time you moved.

“I’m sorry it’s been really hectic at the company. I’ll talk to her to see if we can make some arrangements. why are you so upset junnie?”. you soft talked, hoping to butter him up. he sighs at the nickname, sneaking behind you to wrap his arms around your waist to smell you again on purpose.

you reeked of versace cologne. and yeonjun knew he never wore that kind.

“I’m not upset baby. I just miss you and jayce is always eating and crying”.

his lips sit at the coast of your collarbone. he peppers fluttering kisses until he reaches your neck. you breathed.

“isn’t that what you do too? eat and whine about things?” you accuse. yeonjun chuckles. “yes maybe”.

you wanted to shrug yeonjun off because honestly words couldn’t explain how fucked out you were. but you didn’t want him to think anything was up so you let his lips continue up your neck and finally to your jawline.

yeonjun could hear your breathing pattern shift due to his lips. but more than anything he saw how much you were trying to act like you wanted him, but really you wanted to tell him not tonight. that you didn’t feel like having sex because you already got your fix from someone else. and yeonjun knew it.

he pushes his bulge against your backside inching his lips to the corner of yours. you could feel him harden. “baby”. he hums. “baby please have sex with me”.

your heart raced at his words. you’ve never heard yeonjun beg in need before. you didn’t know how you were going to find the energy to oblige to his request. but he grips your waist tighter and you knew there was no letting go. he traces the outline of your breasts with his fingers, keeping note of the fact that your bra wasn’t on.

‘stupid’, yeonjun wanted to say. he knows you left the house with one on. yeonjun was furious.

“please? don’t you miss me?”. he whines again, sneaking a kiss to your lips. he glares into your eyes after he pulls away and you nod your head in counterfeit desperation. he grins into another kiss while his hand searched for the back of your thighs. while hoisting you up the both of you exchange sloppy kisses until you were being laid back onto the sheets.

he allows his tongue to roam your mouth once more before he pulls away with admiration glimmering in his eyes.

“I love you”.

you swallowed, the sheer happiness that overwhelmed him was enough to make you feel guilty about what you done. nevertheless you pout your lips and rub his cheek. “aw junnie. I love you too”.

he smiles and leans down to layer an abundance of kisses over your lips again. he  pins your wrists down gradually with his hands. “I know I haven’t been the best husband lately”. he complains in between kisses. “but I’ve been so tired and moody with the baby and you haven’t been here”. he raises your dress and pushes his bulge against the wetness of your panties. 

you pant feeling your breathing becoming shaky. “I’m sorry junnie. you’ve been the perfect husband okay? I don’t know what I was thinking working-- l-late like that”.

he tongue kisses your neck sliding your panties down your thighs in one quick movement. “you’re so pretty. I’ve been missing you”. slowly but surely he clutches your thighs and rocks down into your warmth. you wrap your arms around his neck with your gaspy moans driving straight into his ear.  your eyes roll up to the ceiling.

“godd---go a little softer junnie please”. you plead. and he follows your command slowly swaying his hips into you with care. he kisses your cheeks. “is this better baby?”. he pants into the small space between the both of your lips, satisfied with the way he was sheathed in your warmth. it felt so good and he hasn’t had it in so long.

“yes it’s perfect”. you mumble, grinding your hips against him at the same speed. it felt amazing. sex was always amazing with yeonjun. he leans down and plants another kiss on your lips. “so needy? what’s making my baby so needy? you missed me that much?”.

between your muffled cries you nodded. he was stretching you each time he inched deeper. he knew how much you loved him buried inside of you. enough to forget where you end and where he begins. “god yeonjun”. you whine against his neck. “i’ve missed you so much”. you whimper back. you felt so ashamed. you knew no one could ever fuck you like yeonjun could.

“I don’t want you to ever miss me baby. I want to always be here to love you and give what you want when you want it”.

you hold him against you, melting each time he bucks into you and feeling guilt eat you alive each time he spoke. “I’d love that so much”. you reply hazily glaring up into his eyes.

“and I love you-”. he cut himself off with a hard thrust jolting your body upwards. you gasp. he chuckles into your neck. “fuck--i hope you don’t think I’m a pervert. asking for sex as soon as you walk in the door”.

“mmmh no junnie-- you’re just as needy as I am”.

with his head buried into your neck he fucks into you a bit faster, groaning at the way you felt wrapped around his length. he got his desired effect though. you with parted lips clawing at his back. each time he rocked into you he heard you choke on your own moans and that’s exactly what he wanted. it turned him on.

“junnie I’m going to cum if you keep going like this---that’s why I want you to g-go slower”.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long I can’t control myself”. he tries his best to go at a slower pace but each time he tried he went back to the same pace he started with. you’re not far behind your orgasm and yeonjun knew just by the stutter in your hips.

“tell me when you’re about to cum baby”. he breathes.

“I’m a-about to ccum right now”. you were nearly shaking beneath him. and just as you felt like you were about release yeonjun stops his movements completely. you sank into confusion until you felt him roughly create a makeshift ponytail out of your hair and pin it against the bed above your head so you couldn’t move.

his facial expression immediately changed. instead he looked angry. his eyes were scary glaring down into yours.

“did you really think I’d let you cum you fucking cheater?”.

you glanced up at him with horror. “junnie--”.

“don’t fucking soft talk me“.

you crumbled at his tone of voice. he started pounding into you whilst biting his lips. you whimper in his hands.

“whose cologne is that hm?”.

if you weren’t choking to death on your moans before you were definitely were choking on them now. he was making you feel so good you could barely think of anything else while he was fucking you like this. you felt your orgasm build back up quickly.

“w-what cologne?”. he thrusts rough and sharp and stops just after he felt your hips stutter. you whine in desperation to cum just once. it felt like a punch in the gut.

“don’t play stupid. whose cologne are you wearing?”.

“it’s yyours”. you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide at the way he practically growled at you. he lowers his lips allowing them to overshadow yours.

“that’s not my fucking cologne and you know that. I don’t wear versace cologne. so how about you tell me who does?”.

and right there, he was filling you again. pushing his length into your depth just how you liked it, knowing it drove you insane. knowing it was just enough to make you want to cum again. his strokes were painfully slow, making your body wallow in a feeling of pleasure and anxiousness.  he bites his lips again.

“I think I like you like this. not being able to cum. you feel better around me”.

he’s groaning and you felt heat sit in your cheeks. your hips bucked up with need and he’s snapping his hips into you until he felt you stutter again. you pant heavily, grasping his shirt.

“yyeonjun please--pplease don’t stop I need to cum!”.

“tell me who wears versace cologne”. he snarls. in absolute desperation you answer, “a cclose friend of mine!”.

and just as you were about to finally cum his hips come to a halt once more.  you felt tears cascade down your cheeks. he chuckles in the midst of your pain.

“and you weren’t even smart enough to put your bra on before coming home to me. you’re pathetic as fuck. do you know that?”. he rocks his hips down again with brutal thrusts.

“jjunnie I’m sorry! it’s just I’ve been feeling so unsatisfied lately“.

yeonjun casts his eyes down on you with no remorse. he cared nothing about your explanation or your tears. you whimpered against his chest.

“how long have you been doing this? don’t lie to me”.

your needy cries were muffled into the material of his shirt. you decided to reply honestly. “s-since jayce was three months”. you sniffle.  “please let me cum yeonjun”.

for an affair that he thought was only just a few weeks ended up being months. yeonjun couldn’t believe you. he couldn’t believe you’d intentionally sabotage the family that the both of you started together. he knows he was stressed and moody lately but it was because he was taking care of jayce by himself. and you were no where to be found. tears rimmed his eyes.

his hips stop and he cums good and hard just how he hoped. except you didn’t. you were a tear stained mess beneath him shaking and crying. yet he didn’t care. he leaned off of you and started zipping up his pants. and almost as if he could sense that his father was near, jayce began to softly cry in the next room over.

yeonjun glares down at you in pure disgust.

“I want you to pack your stuff and get out of my house”.

[weeb-writor]

MHA boys dating an insecure quirkless reader

Heyo! Today I have request! Its is a lil sad but does have a happy ending as requested! It features two of my favorites Bakugou and Kirishima! And the reader is neutral as usual! I hope you all like it. 

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

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader  Kirishima Eijirou

Resquest: Bakugou and Kirishima with a quirkless reader who thinks they aren't good enough until Bakugou/Katsuki tell them they are good enough.

Words: 1442

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

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

The moment you set eyes on Bakugou you were in love. Did you believe in love at first before him, nah. What else could you call it except that. You were sure you could woo him though until 2 realities hit you straight in the face. 1. Your friend said he was a UA hero in training and 2. He was harsh and brash and would most likely hate you. So you gave up for the most part until one day while you were at a café you heard him and his loud friends come in and sit in the booth next you. They were studying, Bakugou was yelling at them, trying but failing to help them understand. You were just reading and kind of spaced out and yelled out the answer hoping they would quiet down. What you didn't account for was all their eyes suddenly on you.

“Woah how did you solve that so quickly!” A red head said with a cute grin. You were taken a back so you just blinked at the boy.

“You did that all in your head without scrap paper?” Bakugou said, eyebrows raised at you.

“Uhh yeah, it wasn't too hard!” You said turning away from their judgy glances.

“Huh well, im Bakugou Katsuki.” He said reaching his hand out to you with a blush. You hurried to shake it, astonished that he was letting you shake his hand. You don't know how it happened but shortly after that Bakugou claimed you were his person, his dumbass, and you of course let him. And when he had to rescue you from some of your constant bullies he told you it didn't matter you were quirkless. You were strong and perfect to him so fuck anyone who thought different. So how did you end up here, crying on the roof of an abandoned house? There were a few reasons why. One you felt hopeless Bakugou had just been in a fight nearly dying and you could do nothing but watch from home and two… well how could someone like you even stand near Bakugou let alone be good enough to date him. You in fact weren't not strong, or brave, or heroic. You are a quirkless kid who has nothing and nobody but yourself. Bakugou would realize it soon, that he was the star and you were just a kid wishing to be close to him. These are the awful thoughts that lead you here. Just gazing at the stars in the middle of the night. 

“You haven't called me in weeks, seen me in weeks, when I come to you, you avoid me and then no one hears from you in a week and I find you here?!” A voice yelled from behind you, you immediately knew it was Bakugou.

“Oh Bakugou….” You said turning to him shocked to say the least.

“God dammit, I keep telling you to call me Katsuki. What’s happening Y/n, why are you acting like this? I don't understand, is it me?” He said, his eyes watery. You imdeiatly were filled with regret. The boy blamed himself for everything that ever went wrong and the last thing you ever wanted to do was add to it.

“No! Nothing to do with you, promise.” You said taking his head in your hands, making him meet your eyes.

“It's got something to with me, cause if it didn't, cause if you trusted me and loved me like you say you would talk to me.” He yelled as quietly as he could.

“It’s me, okay?!” You yelled at him. This got his attention you never yelled.

“I am kidding myself in this relationship.” You paused to let out a sad and watery chuckle. “I’m not… I'm not good enough for you. You are so amazing and you are gonna be number one someday. Surrounded by other great heroes and people, but me. I am a quirkless idiot who fell in love with someone way out of my league.” 

“What a stubborn asshole you are. Maybe this is a punishment for bullying Deku all those years. I'm hopelessly in love with you, and you can't fathom that I love you. I don't know how many times I have to say I love you and I don't care that you’re quirkless. You are the only person good enough for me, the only person I’m not good enough for if anything. Okay? You are more than good enough for me.” He said eyes boring into yours. You felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest. And with teary eyes you nodded at him before you were engulfed in a hug. 

“Say that you're good enough.” He whispered to you.

“I am good enough for you… Katsuki.” You whispered back after a moment. Your head felt wet as he sniffled.

“Yeah you are dumbass.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

You and Kirishima’s meeting was a little odd. You were walking home when you heard a soft voice coming from an alley. Ignoring everything your parents taught you about stranger danger you followed the voice. It led you to a red head boy who was laying on the ground calling for a cat.

“Is it your cat?” You asked sitting down next to him. He jumped at your voice but turned to look at you with a smile. You immediately noticed this was Red Riot, an up and coming Hero.

“No, just a stray who’s in pretty rough shape, figured he needed a hero.” He said combing through his hair.

“Okay, then let me help.” You said as you took some food from your backpack and trailed a line of food from the dumpster to you guys. It didn’t take long for the cat to wander out and get the food. Took him a while to trust you guys enough to take food from your hands but he did and now he was loving head pats from Bakugou’s big hand.

“What a hero you are.” Kirishima said as both of you got up the cat in the carrier.

“Oh no, just a quirkless person who loves animals!” You said with a soft smile. He blinked at you before grinning.

“Still my hero but I was thinking I’m gonna keep him. We could co-parent if you want! I’m Kirishima Eijirou!” He said handing you a piece of paper. Before you could respond, he was gone. This was how your relationship began. Your relationship remained this fun and interesting for 2 years before the doubts hit you. That’s how you ended up here. Scrolling through all the posts and comments about you and Kirishima since you had become public. There were a lot and a lot of them were accepting and nice but the others were disgusting. All of them about how you weren’t good enough, how you stole him away from Mina, his childhood sweetheart and how deserving of him she was. You were in such a daze you didn’t even notice Kirishima come in to talk to you.

“Y/n!!” He yelled to you. You quickly blinked at him with tears in your eyes.

“Welcome home!” You tried your best to smile. He just stared at you for a second before he took your phone which you failed to hide. You didn’t even try to get it back, knowing his strength. His face dropped as he read the comments.

“Y/n why are you reading stuff like this?” He said as he broke your phone in anger.

“Because it’s true!” You yelled back at him. His mouth hung open at that.

“Because I’m not good enough for you, I’m a quirkless wannabe and Mina she’s perfect and strong and she has a quirk! She is deserving of you and I’m not!” You screamed trying to wipe away the cascade of tears running down your face.

“You’re right, Mina is strong and yeah, she does have a kickass quirk. She is also one of my best friends but do you know what she is not? She isn’t you. Y/n I fell in love with you! Whatever that means and anything that means. You are more than good enough for me! No matter what you do on tv or online. I love you y/n and you're amazing. Quirk or not okay?” He said, beginning to cry too.

“Don’t cry!” You said wiping the tears from his face.

“Then stop thinking weird things! You are enough! You’re better than enough.” 

“Okay I’ll work on it but stop crying.” You said laughing through your tears

“I can’t just stop crying on demand I’m not a robot y/n” He whined cutely at you.

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

Masterlist

[rrickgrrimes8]

Come Clean ~ Dylan x bi!reader

*homophobia is NOT tolerated here at all so piss off if you are thanks ☺️*

This is it.

Today is the day I finally come clean about who I am. Well not fully come clean I still have to tell my parents after this which I kid you not will be a shit show. Today is the day I come out to my boyfriend Dylan.

Now I can hear you guys confused thoughts through the screen. Yes I have a boyfriend. No I am not a lesbian. No I am not straight. Now for the grand reveal... I'm bisexual. I like boys and girls and I'm insanely proud of that. You probably wouldn't think that knowing I haven't told anyone for the first 24 years of my life but I can assure you I am. I've dated girls in the past and I've dated boys. Just because I'm not out to my family and friends doesn't make me ashamed of who I am and who I like.

And the reason that I'm so scared of telling people is because I don't want to lose them. Which I know is something one I can't control and two I should assume that I would lose them if I told them but I know for sure that telling my parents wouldn't end well because let's just say they are massive homophobic assholes and I know that because when I was a freshman in highschool my mom caught me kissing my best friend who is also a girl. My mom immediately kicked her out and called for my dad. She and him were screaming hestrically. Ranting and raving all sorts of bullshit. One being 'im never going to have grandkids. Oh my god I'm never going to be a grandma' but that doesn't beat the beautiful - note the sarcasm - words of my father 'I can't believe I've raised a dyke daughter oh what a disappointment she is'. So let's just say I had a traumatic childhood. As soon as they finished there screaming I just decided it was better to tell them that I was straight and she came onto me then the truth of that I had a massive crush on her. They soon got over that and we never spoke about.

But enough about my parents the real thing I wanted to say is that I'm terrified of losing Dylan. I don't know if Dylan is like my parents - god I hope not - or if he'll support me.

We've been together for almost 3 years and you know the story. Boy meets girl. Girl spills coffee all over him causing him to get severely burned and sent to the hospital prompting girl to be incredibly sorry but boy found her hot and asked her out. You know the usual stuff.

"Hey baby you okay?" Dylan asked snapping me out of the trance I had no clue I was in. I turned to him quickly and looked upon his concerned face. "U-uh fine j-just thinking" I mumbled adjusting my position in Dylan's arms. "Thinking bout what?" He said wearing his insanely adorable smile. "Umm nothing. No one. Nothing" I stumbled over my words causing Dylan to cock his eyebrow at me.

"You sure gorgeous?" I nodded but almost instantly stopped myself. "No actually I'm not okay" I said changing my mind and suddenly finding a rush of courage. "Okay baby what's wrong?" His hand ran through my hair gently combing out the knots in there.

"W-we need to talk" I hummed. Dylan immediately stopped what he was doing and pulled his hand away. His face contorted into a look of sadness and fear. He thinks I'm going to break up with him. "A-about what?" He stuttered clearly anxious to know what I was going to say. When I pulled out of his arms and positioned myself facing him his eyes started to build up small tears but he refused to let them fall.

"A-are you b-breaking up with m-me?" His voice cracked as he spoke and his tears fell freely. "Oh my god no Dylan I'm not breaking up with you." I assured him. "But you might after I tell you this." I whispered to myself sadly and his fearful look left his beautiful face and he whipped his tears away but his face soon turned into a look of concern and worry.

"What is it baby?" He said softly moving his hand to my cheek. "U-um well I need to tell you something." "You can tell me anything" Said the man.

"Uhh well let's see um how can I- Uh I don't know how to" I rambled but was cut off by Dylan's deep chuckle. "Spit it out baby" he teased stroking my check. "I LIKE GIRLS!" I bellowed. The words slipping away from my tongue without my consent. Dylan's hand left my cheek leaving behind a cold feeling and missing of his warmth.

"Y-you like girls?" He questioned more then stated and I nodded my head closing my eyes wanting this moment to be over. He cleared his throat causing my eyes to shoot open. "W-what about me?" Dylan's voice shook slightly his fear of me breaking up with him took control.

"Oh shit" I mumbled under my breath moving onto his lap and straddling him. "I like girls a-and guys Dyl" He furrowed his eyebrows at me inquisitively. "I-I'm bisexual. Bi. The big old bisex as no one calls it" He laughed at my stupidity and I felt myself untense. His laugh calmed by of the scale anxiety filled nerves and I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding.

"So what's the big deal baby? Why are you so nervous?" His hand gently rubbed my knee in a way to comfort me. "W-well I-I was kinda scared that maybe just maybe that you'd you know" I said attempting to draw away from the subject knowing he'd just get hurt by it.

"I'd what (y/n)?" "B-break up with me" I spoke shyly and I could see Dylan's face fall. His eyes were consumed by hurt and new formed tears found there way to his cheeks. "Y-you thought I'd break up with you because you're bisexual?" I nodded sadly looking away from him. "I'm sorry" I whispered feeling a pang of guilt in my gut.

"Hey baby there's nothing to be sorry for I-if anything I'm sorry" He reassured me moving closer towards me the process. "W-why would you be sorry?" I cried my head falling down to look at my shaky hands. "Because you're upset about this and that you'd think that my feelings towards you would change if you told me"

"you're feelings haven't changed?" I said a spark of hopefulness ignited inside of me. "No of course not (y/n) I do and always will love you till the day I die. I love every part of you. I love you voice. Your laugh. Your beautiful (y/e/c). Your lips. Your sexy little butt." He joked while moving his hands to my butt squeezing lightly causing me to giggle like a school girl. "I love everything including the fact you like girls. You're sexuality doesn't change anything and I'll love you no matter what." He added igniting a huge undying smile onto my face ignoring the tears that were plastered over my red raw cheeks.

"You mean that?" I asked just wanting to make sure. "More than anything. I've loved you since the first day I met you." "But the first day I met you I put you in the hospital." Dylan laughed while taking my cheeks into his hands lovingly.

"Yes you did but I still knew that one day I'm going to marry you." I was taken aback from his confession. We'd never spoken about marriage or anything a long those lines so him saying this now is quite the shocker.

"But at las that is for another day my love. I love you (y/n). I love you forever." Dylan mummered against my lips before kissing them lightly. "I love you forever and more" you confessed causing Dylan to grin into your passionate kiss.

He loves me no matter what. I thought to myself happily. And I love him too.

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), MILD SPOILERS, also this is a sequel, the first work is here. (I promise it’s good, the formatting of the origi post is just a little plain cause I hadn’t figured out what I liked yet). There’s some… stuff in this, idk, its nothing much but check the description or ao3 tags if you’re not sure of how you feel about dads who are Assholes, lots of angst because yours truly is a masochist :)

Description:

Levi returns from the war with a broken body only to have his heart broken as well when he finds (Y/N) has gone away from her father’s farm never to return or so much as remember his name- or so her father says. (Y/N), recently returned from a medical emergency in a neighboring village, is informed of her lover’s death, and the ensuing grief is almost too much to bear.

Months later, (Y/N) finds herself trapped in her father’s house, and Levi finds a very interesting ad in the personals column of the newspaper. Letter-writing shenanigans ensue, and Gabi and Falco get ideas.

Ao3 link here

Levi looked at himself in the mirror and neatly combed a stray hair back into place. He was wearing his military formals, complete with bolo tie and medals aplenty pinned on his breast, and if (Y/N) were with him, he knew that she would kiss him lightly over his scar and call him handsome. As it was, she had her own things to attend to before the ceremony, and Levi tried not to miss her even though he’d seen her the night before and knew he would see her again before the day was out.

A wedding and a funeral, all in one day, he mused, turning away from the mirror. And here I thought life would settle down after the war.

It was only a short ride out to the village where the funeral would be taking place, but Levi took pleasure in gazing out the window of the carriage as he rode anyway. True, he didn’t necessarily need to rent the carriage for this stretch of road, but he would need one to get to the wedding on time, and frankly, he felt that he would quite enjoy the stares he would get as he slammed the door of it at the gravesite.

As it turned out, he was right; he did enjoy those stares.

“Dearly beloved,” began the minister as everyone turned to stare at Levi, who stood at the back of the crowd. “We have gathered here to say our goodbyes… ”

(Y/N)’s father met Levi’s gaze, and Levi noticed that his face was red and raw and his eyes were bloodshot. Good. Levi enjoyed that too.

The service was lovely. There were so many flowers that the smell of them carried for a mile, and aside from Levi, there wasn’t a dry eye to be found. Words were spoken, eulogies were given, and friends and family gathered around to hug and share their grief— Levi alone remained untouched, and no one spoke to him until (Y/N)’s father approached him.

“Captain,” he addressed Levi with a deferential tilt of his head. “What brings you here?”

Levi thought back to the letter he’d written as the wealthy man from the countryside informing (Y/N)’s father of her death, and he restrained himself from a nasty smile.

“Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?” Levi asked as politely as he could manage. “I loved her, sir. I wanted her for a wife. Is it so strange that I should be here?”

The man looked away, pale and sick with grief, then looked back at Levi with a pitiable expression.

Funny— Levi felt no sympathy.

“Is this what she felt?” he asked, trembling. “Is this what my baby girl felt when I told her— when I led her to believe— ”

He couldn’t finish his sentence, and luckily for Levi, he didn’t need to.

“Most likely,” Levi replied lightly. “Grief is a heavy burden. With all due respect, it’s likely what killed your daughter, sir.”

Did it make Levi a bad person for feeling a bit smug as the man before him cowered even more?

“Truly? Can it be? Could I have—”

“It’s very likely,” Levi replied. “I’ve got to go now, sir. If I don’t, I’ll find myself late for the wedding of my dreams.”

“W-Wedding? You’re getting married? Why?”

The corner of Levi’s mouth ticked upward.

“Because the woman I love promised me she would marry me,” he said, “And I can’t keep her waiting any longer.”

***

“I’m gonna be sick again,” (Y/N) said, clutching the rim of the toilet in a white-knuckled grip.

Gabi rolled her eyes. “This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. Queen Historia herself is officiating the ceremony, and here you are on a filthy bathroom floor— ”

(Y/N) didn’t hear the rest. She was too busy dry-heaving.

“Come on,” Gabi groaned, “You don’t even have a fever and you ate breakfast this morning just fine— although I’ve never seen anyone eat pickles on peanut butter toast before… ”

At that, (Y/N) froze.

No, she thought, brushing the idea away. Levi and I haven’t been reunited long enough to… well, I suppose we have, but it would be too early for all that. I wouldn’t know until much later.

Right?

Another wave of nausea hit, but there was nothing left for (Y/N) to throw up.

“Please, God, let that be the last of it,” she groaned into porcelain. “I hate sicking up.”

“You had better hope it is,” Gabi fussed. “As it is, your dress needs to be steamed again and your hair could use some work now that I’ve held it back.”

Oh. Right. The wedding.

“Help me up,” said (Y/N), stretching out her hand. “I will not let this day be ruined."

I’m getting married today if they have to prop me up with sticks and the best man has to hold a bloody barf bag, she added silently, gritting her teeth against the threat of more heaving. Nothing short of a titan ambush could stop this wedding, and even then I’m not sure I would leave until I was properly hitched!

“Gabi! (Y/N)!” Faclco called from outside the bathroom. “Hurry up! Levi’s here!”

“Don’t let him see me yet!” (Y/N) called back. “It’s bad luck, you know!”

“Not sure it could get much worse,” Gabi grumbled, but (Y/N) ignored her. Today was going to be perfect. It had to be, for Levi’s sake. He deserved one perfect day for the hundreds of horrible ones he’d had, and she meant to give it to him even if it killed her.

And, at this rate, it just might.

***

Levi wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking before he saw (Y/N), or if he would ever be capable of thinking again once he had seen her, but there was one thing that he was absolutely sure of:

Walking down the center of that ballroom right by herself, gently gliding past stained glass windows and rows of loved ones to give herself to him and take him in return, she had never, ever been more beautiful.

Of course, she also looked a bit like shit, if Levi was honest with himself, which was why he wasn't quite as worried as he probably should have been when (Y/N) kicked off her heels and broke out into a dead sprint right in the middle of their vows.

Oh dear, he thought, watching her go. This should be interesting.

Slowly, calmly, he followed her out, ignoring the gasps and worried looks shared by the other guests— Levi had made the mistake of doubting his lover once, but he would never make it again— and he found Gabi staring awkwardly at him before deciding to follow him out.

"Where is she?" he asked her, knowing he would get a straight answer.

"Bathroom." The girl made a face. "She was sick earlier, and, well—"

A horrific retching noise sounded from the bathroom, and Levi allowed himself a rueful grin before he made his way to where he knew he would find (Y/N) bent over the rim of a toilet. As he rounded the corner into the bathroom, (Y/N) retched again, and he found her lovely white gown trailing outside the closest stall to the entrance.

"That bad, huh?" he asked as she moaned miserably into the toilet, and the poor dear nearly gave herself whiplash as she turned to look at him.

"Go away," she croaked, looking quite green in the face. "You can't see me like this, I'm disgusting and—"

She made a face then, and before she could finish her sentence, she turned back to the toilet and heaved once more. Heedless to her protest, Levi eased himself to the ground and placed a hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles as she quivered, clearly trying to fend off her nausea.

"I'm sorry," she said once she'd composed herself enough to speak, and Levi could hear the tears in her voice. "I've embarrassed us in front of our friends and— oh my God, the queen—"

"The queen is fine, and you haven't embarrassed anyone," he said, and though (Y/N) turned to glare weakly at him, he smiled ever-so-slightly. "Well, I might be a bit embarrassed if I'm found on the floor of the women's bathroom, but I think I'm dressed well enough to make up for my questionable placement, don't you?"

(Y/N) didn't think Levi was nearly as funny as he himself did.

"It was supposed to be perfect," she told him, her shoulders slumped. "I wanted today to be perfect because you deserve perfect and of all the horrible things that have happened to you, I— I wanted this to be the thing that actually worked out and now—"

"(Y/N)."

His interruption was quiet, but firm, and (Y/N) turned to look at him with tears in her eyes.

"Today is perfect," he told her, brushing hair out of her face. "Today, you love me. Today, I get to promise to love you for the rest of my life— in sickness and in health, I might add— and today you get to promise me the same. There can be no better day than this, bright-eyes."

(Y/N) tried for a smile, and even though it came out a bit watery, he still loved her all the more for it.

"That's my girl," he murmured. "Always so good, always so sweet. I'm tempted to fetch Historia and have her officiate right here over this filthy toilet seat."

"Levi!"

He grinned— Levi could never recall a time when he was this carefree. "I mean it, bright-eyes. I'll take you to wed in a pigsty if I have to, but I mean to have you for a wife today no matter what we have to make do with. After all, making do is what we do best— right?"

When (Y/N) smiled again, there was real warmth to it, and she gripped his hand with the same confidence and surety that he had fallen in love with from the beginning.

"Right."

***

“You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your kneesfor a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your bodylove what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -over and over announcing your place in the family of things.”

~Mary Oliver (“Wild Geese”)

[violetnotez]

HC: BNHA Boys x Reader who is Going Through a Break Up

@Dekulover555: Hey can I get a request so my boyfriend has just broken up with me randomly could you do head cons or a story of the bhna boys as the best freind who was there when he broke up with her and the best freind ends up kissing them and the boys have had a crush on this girl for a long time?

Omg babes Im sorry you had to deal with that, that just sucks I’m so so sorry! I hope these make you feel better in some way- I wrote these as HC and 4 of the BNHA boys for ya! And um kinda forgot to put the kissing part in- but i hope you like these regardless!

 Also- that is literally such a crappy thing to do… me and Bakugo gonna beat him up for ya dont you worry! >:(

(RULES | MASTERLIST| REQUESTS OPEN!!! :))

-----------------------------

IZUKU

You and Deku were having a quick study session in his room, him quizzing you on hero terms as you racked your brain to remember the definitions

Your phone suddenly buzzed- making him jump: he was so focused on just you, and how adorable you looked when you were concentrating hard, and the fact he had a girl in his room-kinda startled him out of his over reactive thoughts

You gave him a swift sorry, laughing softly because it was literally written on his face that he was freaked out by the sound, making him blush- he loved your laugh so much

The instant you read the message on your phone, your face just dropped in horror

“Hey I know this is a shitty thing to do but I think we need to break up”

You kept staring at the screen, feeling the world around you crumple- what did you even do? Why was he breaking up with you so suddenly?

Your hand was covered around your mouth, trying to choke back the tears

“Y/n…..y/n!” Izuku asked in a panic, freaking out inside- what happened to you to change your demeanor that fast

 “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Please talk to me!”

“He...he...he broke up with me, Izuku,” you sniffled, the tears flowing down your cheeks 

Izuku stared at you, completely stunned and full of anger. He was just disgusted he wouldn’t even give you the decency to do it in person, let alone just leave you confused on why.

 how could your boyfriend do that to you! You were so kind, and sweet, and so lovable....in his eyes, you were the most perfectly imperfect person and he had fallen for you hard.

 “I dont even know what I did-” you cried in confusion, “Did I do something wrong? I-”

He immediately wrapped you in a hug, his warm embrace making you feel more vulnerable (which is good- feelings are valid and Broccoli Boi will take care of u!)

“This isn’t your fault y/n-none of this is. You’re amazing just as you are-he just cant seem to see that.”

-----------------------------

BAKUGO

OH HELL NO BAKUGO GONNA KILL SOMEONE

You and Bakugo were having a sparring session when your phone went off

“You cant turn that damn thing off?” Bakugo grunted out, hating that your attention was being taken away from him

“Sorry Katsu, gotta answer- its my boyfriend,” you smiled, downing a gulpful of water before your answered the phone

All Bakugo did was grunt in distaste- he hated your boyfriend! He found him so annoying

all he ever did was take up his time with you-it seemed like whenever Bakugo wanted to hang out, he was there, ruining the moment

or even worse- you would go out and hang out with your dumb boyfriend instead of him

He always denied having any feelings for you, but he noticed now he couldnt seem to help it- he found you attractive, physically and personalty wise, but also- you dealt with his crap. He knew he was a hand full, but you still kept him in check and were even brave enough to mess around with him, even if he did yell at you.

 He just didnt like how much control you had over him, making him flustered and blushing like a damn school girl- and the fact that you didnt even know you had this secret power drove him crazy

“Wait-youre breaking up with me?” you asked in disbelief, your eyes prickling with tears

Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Bakugo picked up his head so quick hearing your voice break, as if your whole body was just crumpling. He had to admit, he was kinda happy to hear it- now he’d finally have his chance to ask you out! But hearing you sound so defeated made his heart race faster and the anger erupt in his chest. How dare he make you feel that way!

Bakugo stomped towards you, snatching your phone out of your hands

“I dont know what your deal is, you asshole, but y/n is one of the most amazing people I know, so dont you ever call her number again unless you want your ass blown out of the damn country!”

-----------------------------

TODOROKI

Todoroki was sitting on the couch,drinking tea and reading a book

He had found one of your notebooks left on the floor, and he of course, instantly wanted to give it back to you

Unknowing to him, you were currently up in your room, Facetiming your boyfriend

Shouto didnt really care for your boyfriend- and for the longest time he couldnt understand why he didnt like him

but then he realized some things- whenever he was around you, he would get blushy and extremely quiet and just seemed incapable of acting normal. He found you attractive and exceptionally kind, catching himself staring at you whenever he could and feeling strange about it, causing a soft blush to form on his pale skin

 Thats when he realized he didnt like your boyfriend because he liked you, and he despised the fact that someone had already taken your heart

He knocked on your door, hearing the voices on the other side get more and more frustrated

He heard a slight sob come out of your mouth, and he instantly got panicked

What was wrong?

He knocked on the door again, unsure of what to do- does he barge in there? Does he leave you alone? Does he wait?

In mid knock, you opened the door, your eyes puffy and red

“Y/n-are you alright?” he asked, his face in complete shock and confusion

You shook your head, unable to talk due to the heavy sometimes growing inside you

“Its okay, Shouto,” you practically whispered, “just this isnt the best time-”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, looking at you with those deep, mismatched eyes that made you shiver- they were so easy to get lost in

“Please, y/n, tell me whats wrong.”

He hated seeing you upset- it made him upset, and he wanted to know who did this to you. He wasn't one to act out irrationally, but when it came to you, he would do anything to protect you.

“Its- its my boyfriend. He’s breaking up with me-”

“Hey y/n, where you at?” he heard from the phone, registering the voice as your boyfriend. Immediately, fury formed in his stomach-if he could see him right now- he would have to do everything in his power to hold his powers back from obliterating your boyfriend-

 he strided over, picking up the phone, meeting the shocked eyes of your boyfriend, expecting you to come on the screen

“Please refrain from ever calling y/n again- you make her upset and you clearly cannot understand how much of a wonderful person she truly is. If you ever come to try and hurt her again, I wont hesitate to make sure you dont ever do this to her again.”

-----------------------------

KIRISHIMA

Kirishima was walking out of his room, the rest of the class outside as he was the last one to change out of his PE uniform and into his lounge clothes

“Kirishima!”

He turned around, hearing your cry

Confusion was written on his face- you were running up to him, desperate to reach him

Your face was strewn with tears, sobs crying out of your mouth as you called out his name again

“Kirishima!”

Those sobs were destroying him- what was wrong? Who hurt you? Why were you so upset- he had never seen you like this! 

He had had the biggest crush on you for the longest time, and seeing you sad made him just wanted to fix everything and make you feel better, because when you were upset, he couldnt help but feel upset too!

You wrapped your arms around him, your chest colliding with his as you sobbed onto your best friend

He instantly shielded you in a warm hug, combing your hair with his palm, letting you get all your emotions out

“Hey-” he asked softly, gently raising you chin with the tips of your fingers, “what’s the matter?”

You sniffled, your face splotchy and pink, “My boyfriend-he-he-broke up with me.”

Kirishima clenched his jaw, feeling anger bubble in his stomach. So that’s the reason your so heartbroken, over that idiot? He was completely dumbfounded on why he would ever break up with you- how could someone ever just reject his amazing y/n?

He wrapped you in a hug again, placing a firm kiss on top your head

“Your okay y/n, dont worry about him. Your an amazing person and he just cant seem to see that. I got you, I promise.”

-----------------------------

Requests open!

[clumsyclifford]

“i just lost the Celebrity X Lookalike Contest (I AM Celebrity X) and threw a tantrum about it, you’re the security guard who escorted me out and doesn’t believe me” au OR “i was scratching my nose, not bidding on the charity auction, but i won a date with you anyway and i don’t have the money but i’m not giving it up” au take your pick

ffghfgjdgsgldja sorry it took me FIVE HUNDRED YEARS and that you actually wrote the entire beginning of this but anyway here is it....three thousand words later. im gonna exhaust my supply of fics to dedicate to you today and then i won’t have any saved for the future when i want to win your favor but alas. such is life (i did the second one since i already did hthe first one i’m too lazy to link it but it exists....u read it....yeah)

“It’s six,” Calum feels the need to remind Luke, for the tenth time. “In the morning.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Luke says. “It’s literally an opportunity to meet Green Day. If you were awake enough to process that, you’d be the one dragging me out of the house to get it. Anyway, it’s for a good cause.”

“That made no sense,” Calum says, probably because he’s tired and sluggish and it is six. “You know it’s six in the morning, right?”

Luke mutters something irritated and points to two seats next to each other. “We’re here,” he says. “Just sit down and shut up.”

“If all you wanted was for me to sit down and shut up, why the fuck did you make me come?”

“Because,” Luke says, looking like he’s about to whine. He better fucking not. If anyone’s going to whine, it will be Calum, because it is six in the morning. He scans the room, which looks roughly like he’d imagine an auction room to look like. Unsurprisingly, this quickly becomes boring, and when Luke sits down, Calum leans on Luke’s shoulder, yawning.

“So how do you win?” he asks. He’s a good friend, and Luke’s clearly excited. Calum can pretend to be excited, too, for twenty seconds.

“You don’t win,” Luke says. “The auction guy calls out a number, and people raise their hands, and then he keeps calling out numbers until only one person’s got their hand up.”

“Hm,” Calum says, because he doesn’t care. “How much are you spending on this, again?”

“Enough,” Luke says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You drag me out of bed at six in the morning and now you won’t even tell me how much of a bad life decision you’re making,” Calum grumbles. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Luke doesn’t dignify this with an answer, just pats his hair and opens up Twitter on his phone.

Calum zones out for awhile after that. He registers the auction starting (mostly because Luke’s put his phone away), and from the angle his head is at, he can just see the front, where they’re displaying each item as it’s auctioned off. Time passes. Calum tries not to flat-out fall asleep, because it would be rude, but he’s really tired and has only gotten about four hours of sleep, and his head hurts. He tries to train his eyes solely on the front, to laser focus on whatever item’s being auctioned. Somebody’s socks, maybe? Some concert tickets? They put up a photo of someone, and Calum squints. He doesn’t recognize the guy, but he must be famous, because his picture’s up there. It’s a shame; the guy in the photo is hot, hot enough that it breaks through Calum’s sleep-deprived haze.

He rubs his hand against his forehead, trying to massage away some of the ache that’s building up. Fuck Luke for dragging him out to this, honestly. As he rakes a hand through his unkempt hair, he vaguely registers somebody going, “SOLD to the gentlemen in the Rolling Stones shirt!”

I’m wearing a Rolling Stones shirt, Calum thinks distantly, and then Luke’s shaking him. “Calum, what the fuck?”

“What?” Calum whispers.

“You — you just bid $2000 on a date with Michael Clifford.”

Calum blinks, a lot, and picks his head up off Luke’s shoulder. “Who the fuck is Michael Clifford?”

Luke points, and Calum looks up at the podium, and of course Michael Clifford is the super hot guy in the photo.

“I can’t have won that,” Calum says. “I don’t have two thousand dollars.”

“Well, you did,” Luke says, sounding like he’s moments from tearing his hair out because of Calum. “So you’ll just have to back out after the auction.”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t have two thousand dollars,” Calum says, beginning to panic. “Luke, what the fuck? I don’t even have two hundred dollars.”

“Okay, relax,” Luke says. “You’ll just tell the auctioneer after. You can forfeit the item to the next highest bidder.”

Calum is tempted to ask how the fuck do you know so much about auctions, but instead he says, “This is your fault for fucking dragging me here.”

Luke shushes him. Apparently the Green Day thing he’d come for is next up. Luke’s a terrible friend and an absolute menace to society.

The auction continues, and Calum keeps his hands tensely folded in his lap, terrified to even move in case this poor excuse for an auctioneer randomly decides to make his life hell again. He spends about an hour trying to work up the nerve to tell the man that he hadn’t intended to bid, he hadn’t even wanted to come to this, and he hasn’t got two thousand dollars anyway, so thanks but no thanks, you can give this particular victory to someone else.

But every time he does, his eyes land on the photo of the alleged Michael Clifford. Calum’s not, like, a shallow guy, but there is something to be said for a man that attractive. Namely that if you get a chance to go on a date with him, even if it costs two thousand dollars, you’d have to be not only stupid but fucking blind to turn it down.

You don’t have two thousand dollars, he firmly reminds himself. And you don’t know this Michael chump at all. He might be a total asshole.

(If someone that hot is an asshole, Calum will lose all faith in humanity, but whatever. It’s fine.)

He manages to steel his resolve enough to turn down the date, but when the auction ends everything is all hustle and bustle. Apparently Luke’s won his thing, which is cool for him. Calum goes up to the line with the auction winners and prepares to tell the lady (assistant?) that there’s been a mistake, but the lady just hands him a piece of paper and says, “Next.”

“No, sorry, there’s —” Calum says, trying to return the paper, and the lady gives him a chilling stare.

“Next,” she repeats. Luke looks desperately between Calum and the lady and then takes what she’s handing him and hurries them off.

“Luke,” Calum hisses.

“Okay, I know, but did you see her face? It’s fine. You can just email the auction company.”

“Just because you’re afraid of social confrontation,” Calum gripes, but it’s far too late. They’re already outside the building. “I hope you’re happy.”

“I am,” Luke says. “Calm down, Cal. Literally just send them an email. They’ll figure out you don’t have two thousand dollars soon enough anyway.”

Calum stares down at the paper in his hand, which has all the details on how to contact this Michael Clifford figure. It’s fine. He can email the auction company, and everything will be fine.

-

Everything is not fine. Calum typed michael clifford into his browser three hours ago, and now he’s fucked. Utterly, irreparably fucked.

He shouldn’t have checked. He shouldn’t have even bothered. If he’d operated under the assumption that Michael Clifford was a jackass who wasn’t worth a second of Calum’s time, much less a cent of his money, everything would have worked out wonderfully. Calum could have sent the email to the auctioneers, subject line: GRAVE MISTAKE, and sorted it out.

Instead he’s an hour deep into Michael Clifford interviews on YouTube, and he’s listened to the man’s entire discography (two albums and an EP). Calum has gone over everything with a fine-toothed comb, but there’s no two ways about it: Michael Clifford is dead sexy and that’s not even the best thing about him. How can someone be this witty and charming and beautiful and sort of awkward and gorgeous all at once and not, like, spontaneously combust?

It doesn’t help that he’s been steadily drinking tequila for the last two hours, also.

(He will easily blame the tequila for what he does next.)

He’d have to be an idiot to let this chance slip through his fingers. A total and complete fucking dumbass. Calum’s a lot of things, but he knows when God is giving him a chance. This is a miracle. An opportunity, Luke had called it. Calum’s not stupid, okay? He’s not.

TO: michaelclifford@hiorheyrecords.co.au 

FROM: calpal1996@gmail.com

SUBJECT: I won something with your guy

Hello,

I’m the winner of the charity auction date thing? With Michael Clifford? So that’s exciting. Write back with the details, I guess.

Calum Hood

-

Calum doesn’t tell Luke when he wakes up, mostly because for a couple hours he himself can’t believe he’s done it, and Luke will just voice every terrible thing Calum is thinking, beginning and ending with you don’t have, have never had, and will probably never have $2000. And Calum already knows that. He knows, okay?

But when he gets a response email, he can’t help but be excited, a little bit. If he’s going to go down (and he definitely is, for this), he may as well go down on a date with a man who looks like a fierce cuddler and a sex god rolled in one.

TO: calpal1996@gmail.com

FROM: michaelclifford@hiorheyrecords.co.au

SUBJECT: Re: I won something with your guy

Hello,

Michael will be in Sydney this weekend. Attached is his availability. Please reply at earliest convenience regarding which time suits you best.

Congratulations,

Michael Clifford's Management (Hi Or Hey Records)

Calum has no plans, ever, and would also easily cancel anything to speak with the absolute treasure that is Michael Clifford, so he replies that any time works for him. He hopes Michael himself isn't as stiff and formal as his management's emails, but Calum's coming off an interview binge, so he wouldn't believe that anyway. He's aware of the disparity between what the public sees of a celebrity and who the celebrity actually is, but a public persona has to be based on something.

Plus, Michael plays Fifa, so he can't be that bad.

He resolutely does not text Luke, and instead spends the day under his duvet, watching more interviews of Michael Clifford and listening to his music on repeat. It's kind of like studying, except the test is a date with a really hot famous bloke. But fuck if Calum's not going to ace it.

-

They decide on Friday night, because that's the universally accepted prime date night, or something, so on Friday night at 7pm, Calum is shifting nervously on his feet and waiting by his door. A car will pick him up, apparently. He just has to sit and wait.

(He's still deliberately not thinking about how this will cost him two thousand dollars. Which he doesn't have.)

Calum's phone buzzes with an email. It's from Michael Clifford's management, but all it says is, I'm outside :D. Tonally, Calum is pretty sure that one wasn't sent by the management.

He takes a deep breath and leaves his house.

The car out front is not a limo, like Calum would have expected. It's a nice Tesla, though, still clearly too expensive for Calum's street and gleaming in the little remaining daylight. Calum makes for it, feeling nervous and excited and mostly just terrified that this is the worst idea he's ever had.

He pulls open the passenger door and slides into the car.

"Hi," says Michael Clifford. Calum fights not to lose his breath. He's prettier in person, so much so that Calum can't actually believe the injustice that pictures and videos do to him. "Calum?"

Oh, that's Calum's name. "Hi, yeah," Calum says. "I'm Calum." He holds out the paper given to him at the auction, just like the management email had instructed him to do.

Michael takes it, looking sheepish. "Cool," he says. Calum can't feel any of his limbs. "Um, get in, I suppose? I know we didn't really decide where we're going, but I figured I'd let you choose."

Calum thinks about everything he's learned about Michael over the past two and a half days of intense studying. Then he checks it against his own appetite. "Pizza?"

Michael's face splits with relief. "Oh, thank fucking God. I've been craving pizza for like a week."

Calum grins in what he hopes is a charming and not-at-all-creepy way. And then he feels creepy anyway.

“So, uh,” Michael continues. “Tell me about yourself.”

Calum drums his fingers against his thigh. “About myself? Okay. Sure. My name’s Calum Hood, I’m on a football scholarship at uni — when I’m at school — and I like long walks on the beach.”

“Oh, we won’t get along,” Michael says. “I hate long walks on the beach. Bad start, Calum.”

“What? How can you hate walking on the beach?”

“The sand,” Michael says defensively. “It gets everywhere, it’s horrible.”

“Alright,” Calum says. “Anakin.”

“I know you did not just call me Anakin.”

“The sand,” Calum mimics. “It’s horrible.”

“I’ll stop this car.” 

“I think you’re contractually not allowed to,” Calum says. “Tell me about you, now.”

Michael looks pleased. Calum tries not to stare. “Alright,” Michael says, smiling crookedly. “Name’s Michael, and I like video games, and I like watching films in the darkness and I hate the beach.”

“Wow,” Calum says. He suddenly thinks that watching films in the darkness wouldn’t be too bad, with the right company. “You’re a right charmer, you are.”

“I’m an introvert,” Michael protests. “Don’t judge me.”

“You’re an introvert? Who auctioned off a date?”

“It wasn’t up to me,” Michael says. He sounds like he’s trying not to be bitter about it, and failing. “It was, like, my management and the auction company conspired against me. But it’s for charity, anyway.” He shoots a look at Calum. “Actually, I think it could’ve gone much worse.”

Calum feels terribly, all of a sudden. He’s lying to Michael, sitting here pretending like he actively chose to come on this auction-mandated date. 

“So, not to be, like, self-obsessed, but I have to ask,” Michael says. “Do you like the new record?”

“Yes,” Calum says immediately, which is true, at least. “Yes, I love it. I’ve listened to it a million times.” In the last three days.

Michael grins happily. “Really?”

Calum nods. “Uh. Yeah. Really.” He wavers, mouth dry. Michael looks delighted, and Calum would be an asshole to let him sit there feeling oblivious about Calum’s whole situation. He sighs. "Um, for the record, I feel like you should know that — well. This is a misunderstanding, kind of."

Michael briefly shoots him a puzzled look before bringing his eyes back to the road. "What is?"

"Well, ah, me, being here." Calum rubs the back of his neck. "I won this by accident. I don't have two thousand dollars — yet, I mean, I promise I'll pay, I just...I honestly didn't know who you were until about three days ago."

Michael snorts, clearly amused. He laughs  "That's great," he says. "Did you look me up?"

"Yes," Calum says. "A bit." He pauses, embarrassed. "Okay, a lot. There's a lot of information about you on the internet, if you were wondering. And I'm sure most of it isn't true, but I didn't want to, like, offend you? But I meant it about the album, it’s really really good, exactly the kind of music I love, and — yeah. So."

Michael still looks amused when Calum finishes word-vomiting all over him. Small mercies. "I'm glad," he says, looking sidelong at Calum for a moment. "Well, I'm sorry you ended up on a date you can't afford with a guy you don't care about."

"No, no," Calum says. "I could have forfeited it, I think? But, well." Whatever, Michael probably gets this all the time, and after all this is a date, so what the fuck does he have to lose? "I thought you were hot, and I was pretty drunk, so I figured, fuck it."

Michael snorts another laugh. "Really," he says. "Well, that's pretty lucky for me."

Calum frowns. "Lucky?"

"Yeah, I mean." Michael gestures. "Sorry if this is forward, but you're pretty good-looking yourself."

Calum has absolutely no idea what to say to that. "Um, thank you? That's — is this, like, scripted? Are there things you have to say to me in some contract? Because I promise not to be offended if you just don't say them."

"There's no contract," Michael says, with an easy smile. "I just think you're kinda hot. Is that allowed?"

"Allowed?" Calum repeats, incredulous. "No, it's not allowed. You need to be checked for delusion. You can't call me hot when I'm in a car with you."

"Well, I am," Michael says. "It's done. Deal with it."

"I want the record to reflect that that compliment was nonconsensual," Calum says. You're kinda hot you're kinda hot you're kinda hot you're kinda hot, his mind sings.

"Should I take it back?" Michael asks, arching a brow. He looks like a fucking sculpture. Calum finally understands why museums exist.

"No," he says. "I took a voice note of you saying it, and I'm going to sell it on eBay. For two thousand dollars. Which I will then use to pay for this date."

Michael shakes his head and pulls into a parking lot. "How about this: you pay for the pizza, and I'll pay the two thousand dollars?"

Calum's heart stops, maybe. He's pretty sure he's supposed to have a heartbeat, but he can't locate it in his body. "What? No."

"Why not?" Michael turns to him in the passenger seat. "I'm having a good time, and a gentleman ought to pay for his date's meal, or some bullshit like that, right? So if you buy me pizza, I'll pay off the auction, and then I can ask you on a real date, and I'll buy you pizza, and we'll be even."

Calum stares, unable to process any of that. "I don't think that math checks out," he says. "What do you mean, a real date?"

Michael chuckles, and sounds a little shy. "One where neither of us is financially obliged to attend. You know. Like a normal one."

"Oh," is what Calum eloquently comes up with. "Uh, you want to do that with me?"

Michael shrugs. "Yes? You kept me smiling for the whole drive, and you called me hot. I'm very insecure, so that's important. Plus, as previously mentioned, you're also hot, so I think we'd make a very attractive pair."

"Maybe I'll say no," Calum says, blood roaring in his ears because there is literally no way this is happening, this is not his real life. This is a dream and he's very witty in his dreams. "Don't push your luck, Clifford."

Michael laughs. "Touché."

"That was a joke," Calum says. "Just like yours was a joke."

"I wasn't joking," Michael says. "But you can say no. We're both still on this date, we may as well enjoy it."

"Pizza," Calum helpfully remembers.

Michael nods in agreement. "Pizza."

"Ask me again at the end of our auction-mandated charity date," Calum says. "If you're charming enough, I might just let you take me out again."

"Challenge accepted." Michael gets out of the car, and so does Calum, and he gives himself another this isn't real life, for good luck, before coming around the car. Michael holds out an arm, and Calum takes it.

Calum's never had better pizza, or a better date. (Michael asks him again at the end, and Calum says yes, because he's no fucking idiot.)